Wednesday, May 8, 2013–
I got up every morning feeling like crude, dirt, shit the first few mornings after our breakup. I would sulk and not be into working at my dream job– the magazine. I wouldn’t talk much to the editors because I wasn’t all “there.” I was somewhere else. I was in an unforgotten world. I was trapped with nowhere to go.
Then, I became stronger. I conquered the breakup. It wasn’t easy because I really care about this guy, but the doubts were too much to bear. It wasn’t fair and I had to end it. It certainly wasn’t easy. I struggled. I cried. I wept. I felt bad. Everything.
I was strong. I knew I could do it on my own. I could survive. After all, it was only 6 months, right? Can you imagine if it was a year? I would have been hurting worse than I am.
I was done. I was out. I was living. I wasn’t as sad. I was pretty good.
BUT… then… it came ‘the letter’ from… him. From my ex.
It all came back. Temple. Our classes. The hand holding. The kissing. The hugging. Peanut butter crackers.
“The letter.” No, I’m not going back, but damn, why would you do that when I moved forward a little? I was ahead. Man, what do I do, dude? Boy oh boy. It’s a toughy.
WHY THE F*** WOULD YOU WRITE ME A LETTER WHEN I WAS DOING “OKAY?” Why now? The pain & hurt are still there. I still feel it. It still lingers and won’t go away. It sits there like a piece of cake in a resting body. But, why now? Why did you feel the need to write it & confuse the hell out of me? Why would you do that? You know how vulnerable I am at the moment. I could crack at ANY given moment. Literally, I could break in half. I have. I am. I won’t. I can’t.
Why would you write me such an elaborate letter? No fair! That’s NOT fair. It’s bullshit. Strike you. I’m so vulnerable right now and I’ve got so many thoughts running through my mind.
I’m in a fragile state right now and this letter caused a ruckus. It caused a ripple in the waves. No. Don’t do this to me. It’s over. I can’t. The memories though. They’re still there. Like, they’re looming over me. They are still present. I know. I know. Dude, it sucks. I’m sorry. It hurts like hell. No, I didn’t forget about him.
I can’t stop reading it. I read it over & over & over & think, what am I going to write to him? I have lots to sort out before I write him back. Man. It came out of no where.
One day we weren’t talking at all because we needed to move forward without speaking, but then boom….’the letter.’ That letter came & shook everything.