Owning It Makes It Worse in meh...

Last night I couldn’t sleep.
I eventually did fall asleep, but not before I listened to sad love songs. What was worse is the songs that I use to identify with, well, I was the “villan” in them. I was the one who went away. All this heartbreak I’m experiencing is by my hand and my desire to control how hurt I get.

I’m always so gungho about love. Love this, love that and, as messed up as the situation was, I had it and I pushed it away. I pushed him away. I try to justify it by asking what if I did wait and win him by default? Would that make me stupid? Or I say if he ever asked me to move to where he is, I wouldn’t have gone anyway. But he never asked. Not outright.

But should I have waited? “I never wanted to walk away. I know you know.” And now, on a Saturday morning, I’m lying in bed curled up crying, thinking about how I screwed this up. I found him. I found the one and I pushed him away. Now he’s married. He still wants me, but he’s married and I paved the way for that to happen.

This pill is hard to swallow even with all the water in the world.

I am so stupid.