Go away, already.

I’m recovering from an emotionally awful weekend.

I don’t know how it started, but for whatever reason, I thought of my ex all weekend. And I teared up. And I was mad at myself. And I lost sleep, because, for what feels like the millionth time, he was in my nightmares.

And you know what? I know everyone is sick of it. My parents are. Gizzy is. You are. And frankly, so am I. After 7 months of not seeing the bastard, and 2 months of no communication, I’m still clearly struggling. And I don’t know why.

Going to therapy has helped me, tremendously. In fact, I can’t tell you how pumped I am to cry to Lopez tonight over it. Because I still need help. Clearly.

However, I still struggle with lots of things. I still think that he’s off having this amazing life, while I’m still hating mine. He’s smiling, while I’m crying. He’s drinking while I’m in therapy.

I hate that I still have baggage. I hate that I’ve only been on one date in the last year and he turned out to be an ass. I hate that the last person I slept with couldn’t get it up. I hate that my ex was trying to fuck me while he had a girlfriend.

All I am banking on is time. I hope, and am close to actually praying to God, that in time, this will get better. Because we’re approaching year five, folks. And I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.

After all, I’ve thrown out everything that reminds me of him. Sold his gifts on ebay. I’ve moved apartments because my old one reminded me of him. I’ve changed my route to work as to not drive by his street. I’ve deleted his number and blocked him from my chat list. I quit watching Sex and the City because the thought of sleeping with someone makes me sick.

But my mind, my memory, my nightmares…all things that I just can’t wipe clean, are torturing me.

To top it off, I drug myself out of bed Sunday afternoon to go to the writer’s meeting. I showed up obviously pissed at the new editor. Upon arrival I found out she gave the cover to another story, after she said she would consider mine. The story that won? Oh, one that hadn’t even be turned in yet. Typical.

I wanted to clear the air, so I asked her when deadline was. At first, she said Monday, then Sunday, then she said Saturday, then Friday…and then said turn it in whenever. Of course, I snapped and said “Look, I need a day and a time so I can get my shit in.”

Saturday at 5 pm is deadline.

If I don’t post on Wednesday, it’s because I’ve checked myself into a padded room, complete with straight jacket and bars over the windows.

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6 thoughts on “Go away, already.

  1. Dennis Hong says:

    Ugh, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, when my first serious girlfriend and I broke up, it took me over a year to get over her–that is, get to the point where, if I was given the chance to get back together, I wouldn’t immediately jump at the opportunity.

    I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do or say that will make it all better. This shit takes time, yo. So yeah, you just have to give yourself time to get over this.

    And Vegas. Vegas helps. I, too, attempted the Vegas solution. Oh yes, it was definitely therapeutic.

  2. Aww Lucky šŸ˜¦ I hate the lying cheating bastard for what he’s done to you but you know I’m always here to listen. Lovie you!

  3. I know there’s not much I can say to help, but I’m rooting for you. It will get better in time, which is the good and the bad news.

    Try remembering how awesome you are in the meantime, and if that doesn’t work, listen to Dennis and meditate on Vegas! (Go ahead and do that anyway, actually.)

    Sending you love,

  4. Aw thanks guys!

    Damn 32 ounces of jack makes my stomach church just thinking about it!


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