The stuffed animals and clothes are put in bags and are in my trunk. I’m procrastinating...finding excuses to not donate them.
The painting...it’s still in my room. I’m thinking of trashing it. I mean you left yours in the living room, collecting dust, not even worthy of being in your room.
Why doesn’t this hurt or affect you like it does to me? Did you really not love me the way I thought? Did I really love you more than you did with me?
I find myself missing you. I shouldn’t. It’s not as much as I used to miss you, because I need to detach slowly. But it hurts and it sucks.
I’m trying to move towards forgiveness, which is accepting that maybe this is who you really are and that you really hurt me this badly.
I’m scared of what the future holds and moving on without you there. I guess you’ve always been my crutch.
I’ll miss you so much. You don’t even know. I pray for you everyday. Whether you did get kulam or this is who you are now, I think prayers are helpful. It gives me peace knowing God is watching out for you and wants the best for the both of us.
I’ll forgive you one day. I know it. You have John to thank for that. He convinced me that forgiveness is the only way to go, even if he did call you a fucker.
I always imagined telling John one day that you make me happy and that I’d be ok because everything I went through with him led me to you. It wasn’t like that. He sounded sad and concerned.
I really wished it was you. I really wished it was us. My heart couldn’t take anymore. It didn’t want to look anymore. At first, I thought it was because I settled and was just content. I later realized that I was happy and actively chose you.
It’s a shame that you didn’t choose me back.