bitterdiva

January 17th, 2002

Darkness, repetitive humming, soft platform underneath me, I was awake in my own bed. The nightmare was over but my heart was still racing and my breath was still short, it was not too far off that my body was responding to the stimulus – never mind the pictures left in my mind.

I was at college amongst all my good friends, word had gotten back to me that my recent ex had gone to see the woman for whom he left me. I had snapped, in midst of a nervous breakdown all my friends were there to watch over me. They had sent word off to the asshole of what happened. He made an appearance, only to drive me further into a state of rage and hopelessness that I kept trying to commit suicide.

The storyline had change and new scenes and plots appeared, an 8 month pregnant woman and her boyfriend along with her children stole my van as a means to get away from his breaking out of jail. I kept running and searching for my car but to no use. Then I sought refuge in a house, which in the dream was familiar, but in reality was some concoction of my creative mind. The only thing that brought me peace and tranquility was my ex-boyfriend/roommate/love interest. As he has done so in real life, trying to comfort me in my current time of anger and sorrow.

Last night I actually did receive word that the asshole had in fact gone to see the woman he met at the nye party and her boyfriend is good friends with my roommate. It sorrows me to know that I could be forgotten so quickly, it pains me to feel that in the same day of this heart shattering (although not foreseen) news I had e-mailed the asshole wondering what he was doing and to check on his current status as a living person. Last night I was angry and bitter, my feelings this morning have not changed.

There are many questions to which I was seeking answers, but I guess I no longer have to go far to seek. They’re basically answered in a simple action. It hurts nonetheless. It hurts immensely. I never did anything wrong, I was always sympathetic, understanding, and loving. And patient, can’t forget that one, it was the main theme of the relationship.

This is the second time that I had an ex at a party who hooked up with someone else there/introduced/knew. Somehow during a discussion with the asshole he remarked that I should have expected what happened. That I had pushed him away for too long that he finally gave up on me when I decided that we should be friends. I had not wanted to be friends with him, I loved him, and there’s apart of me that still does (or else this wouldn’t hurt as torturous as it does).

To think that in the e-mail I was going to send him, I was going to ask if we could perhaps have a second/third chance. I gave him a chance after he stabbed my heart saying he only wanted to be friends, but the damage had been done and the relationship suffered. I will give you a piece of advice, free, if you don’t know what you want out of a relationship, for fuck’s sake, keep your mouth shut until you do. You’ll do less damage that way.

I’m off to shower, hopefully easing my mind and heart a little before I wander off to work. Before I go, I just have one wish, that the fucking asshole better learn in life you can’t burn your fucking bridges and expect to not incur enemies. I at least have friends, I at least never did a fucking thing wrong, I at least am not the asshole. And although I really want to eviscerate some pigs, I’d rather take the high road and eat peanut butter and jelly.

04:13 AM

Comments

Posted by: jill at June 20, 2002 02:22 PM

Posted by: bitterdiva at June 21, 2002 08:34 AM

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