The last thing I thought that would happen upon my move to
North Carolina is to be completely obsessed with things that I can do nothing
about or change. I wanted to move
away from the problems at home, and I wanted to move away from him. HIM. (Said with anguish and disgust). However, I have been here for a month I
can do nothing but think of him and everything that happened in February and
frankly it’s consuming my every waking moment. Now, isn’t that god damn pathetic?
I
don’t know what happened or why it happened but I went out for drinks the other
night and came home semi-sober (which in itself is interesting and a feat) and
I broke. Just completely broke
down.
For
those of you that are new to the Naked Nap lets recap the first blog:
My
boyfriend of almost 6 years dumped me at one of my best friends funerals. In a note. (I love telling this story to new friends and people that
don’t know him or us because their reaction is priceless). So, clearly, upon my being dumped I
didn’t take the time to mourn my friend.
And it was recently that I have come to terms with his dying. And really come to terms with the fact
that my relationship is over. More
than over… I have moved onto hate.
I don’t typically hate people, and I didn’t think I could hate him, but
I don’t hate anything more than him right now. I hate snakes for example, oddly enough, you hate something
and the one thing you love turns into what you hate. A fucking snake.
“Sleep
with a snake and you’re going to get bit.”
So,
I get home from the bar in my semi-drunk stupor and just sit on my bed and
think. I think about all kinds of
things when I am in that state. I
was thinking about my life in New York. I was thinking about the last 6 years of my life and how I planned
things and wanted things, and how it was taken away in the blink of an
eye. I was thinking about my
friend and how much I wanted to talk to him about everything and nothing. I thought about the day he died and the
day before when I was going to text him and see if he wanted to get a
drink. I was thinking about how
much I regret not texting him. I
think about Guy #1 and why I threw all my rage for The Ex onto him. (In a self-diagnosis I discovered
that’s exactly what I did.
Transferred all my wants and needs to him and he wanted nothing to do
with it, which is fine, but I wound up hurting myself more). I thought about The Ex over and over
and tried to sleep but I find I can’t sleep here alone. I don’t like sleeping alone.
I
know that the whole “sleeping alone” thing is a frame of mind to some. But once you sleep alone for the first
time in a long time and you know that your never going to fall asleep the same
way again is fucking painful and it fucking sucks. I am so pathetic that I lay awake at night staring at the
fan as it spins and let my brain stop thinking. Whats more pathetic is looking to my right and seeing the
silhouette of him and trying to come to grips with the fact that he will never
be laying on my right again.
Well,
needless to say, since the night I got home I cant think of anything more than
him and why and what the fuck happened.
I can’t think of anything fun, and I don’t remember the last time I
laughed and really feeling happy.
I mean genuinely felt happy.
Don’t
get me wrong, I am not one for rash (poor) decisions, but I will say that being
here, away from everyone, is so much harder than I thought it was going to
be. I need something more in my
life than pining for someone who doesn’t love me. I need something more than wishing the dark silhouette lying
next to me was him. I need to
forget the last few years of my life and move on. But how can I move on when I am caught in the shit that is
the aftermath of the relationship?
I need answers and I don’t know where to find them.
I
have heard it all before. Time
will heal all wounds and patience is a virtue, and ‘you don’t need him’ and
‘your better than him.’ This can
be beaten into my head for the next six years and I honestly don’t know if I
can stop thinking about it or him, and I don’t know how to move on.
If
I have one more sleepless night I might start throwing punches. Haymakers. I need to throw something or hit something and the stress
buildup is unreal! My next big
investment will be a punching bag.
In my room… over my bed.
Who needs sex swings and a trapeze when you would have a punching bag
there ready to take a beating? I don’t
think I could want anything more than that.
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