to love for the hope of it all

i’d like it to be over. i’d like to be able to just accept the embarassment i’ve faced over this last year and be done with it.

it’s a lot more difficult to convince myself it is all worth it when i’m away from london and by proxy, him, and he doesn’t make an effort to ask about me. proclamations of “i don’t think i’m going to change” only do so much to soothe my worries. i can pretend to be laidback and open to uncertainty temporarily, but it is not a constant. echoes of “i care about you, i want you in my life” do not erase the times he was unable to tell me that, especially told under (almost) duress. or the actions of last new years. i still cannot listen to any holiday music without feeling the pang in my chest i felt the week i started this blog. the uncertainty, the anxiety, the worry.

whilst away i’ve started growing small baby hair again. i’ve been sleeping slightly better, not having to pretend my bed isn’t empty. i’ve been welcoming the time alone, feeling motivated for my return to london. it’s hard to be as worried about everything as i usually am in this environment.

— — — — — —

i’m unsure why the holidays plague me today. i haven’t been able to get out of my head the fact that he did in fact leave for another country on his time off, during a holiday season i believed we’d spend together. i suppose it started with looking forward to it this year? although i’m not sure what i have to look forward to at all sometimes. making my own memories the way i see fit is the only solution i have left as i can no longer rely on other people to do so. my heart feels heavy today. like i haven’t realised how tiring this entire ordeal has been until today. like i can no longer pretend the things i tell myself to be able to have him in my life are true. i don’t want to lie to myself any longer. lie and embarrass myself in front of everyone i know.

i can no longer talk about him to anyone but him. nobody wants to hear anything i have to say anymore, and actively encourage me to avoid him and cut him out of my life. i can’t say i’m easily influenceable, but at some point i do start to wonder what the purpose of all of this is. what the end goal is. what the end result will be. most likely? heartbroken and feeling abandoned again. a repeat of the holidays. wondering what i could have possibly done wrong to deserve what i’ve been put through.

i still wonder sometimes. “even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe / all the the hell you gave me?” (my tears richocet, taylor swift).

the song makes me think about actually leaving him behind, and what i believe the aftermath would be. the personality death i’d incur and that he would miss me. i’ve been trying to avoid finding out but it gets too tiring to fight common sense. to ignore the reality that i’m holding on to something for dear life that doesn’t even want me to.

— — — —

i could attribute nonsensical signs for the universe to give me, like him reaching out today, but they never really serve a purpose. they just highlight how little he does care. maybe it truly is time to let his actions speak for themselves instead of coming up with excuses. that is, after all, what he initially suggested when comfronted with how he was acting – that i should take how he acts as a reflection of his feelings – if he acts like he doesn’t care, then maybe it means he doesn’t.

i don’t think i ever realise the impact his harsher words have on me until i’m reflecting back on them. i wonder if he reflects on things that he or i have said and ponders their reality – i somehow doubt it. asking for his honesty usually means accepting his cruelty as well.

time spent away from him only highlights the later. brings to the foreground that he doesn’t reach out, and thus, wonder about me. he doesn’t miss me to the point of wanting to talk. (he admitted that my voice was only tolerable and he didn’t like it in the same way he liked other girls’ in the past – nothing about me quite seems to compare to anyone from his past.) he doesn’t think about me.

— — — — — — —

for the sake of being honest and authentically myself, i keep putting myself out there, knowing that the sentiment will be rejected. and yet, apparently keep doing it.

it begs the question of whether i put msyelf through this because i somehow enjoy the torture, or think i deserve it, something i often ponder. i don’t think i have an answer. subsconscious leftover guilt that makes me feel like i deserve to suffer? i truly have no clue.

all i know is how tiring it all feels. i try not to think about it as much and enjoy my day, but when it weighs heavy on my head and heart all i can do is focus on how exhausted it is to constantly defend to myself that i’m worthy of something good, even though i actively chase something that is comfortable hurting me. that’s the wicked reality of it – i accept and pursue a.b.s. knowing that he’s going to hurt me. i wish he wouldn’t, but he’s proven time and time again that he will find some way, some caveat, some harsh words, some way to use me for my body and friendship when he wants it, and actively push it, and me, away when he no longer does.

asking him not to anymore, and wishing it, does no good; brings about no change. he doesn’t know how to hold something good without hurting it. i don’t know how to walk away from someone without letting them destroy me first. a match made in hellish heaven.

— — — — —

12:57: early afternoon:

i’m completely right in everything i said. i know this to be true. i also know how much i care about him as a person. i also know how lovely of a man he actually is, despite his cruelty, despite how he treats me. he’s a human being, same as anyone else, managing his way through life. still holding on to things from his past that he cannot have an affect on anymore, and by default, can’t ruin or hurt.

it’s not fair to me that he’s holding on so tightly to the point where he can’t realise what is in front of him. it’s entirely my choice whether i see him and the potential we could have as worth the amount of effort it is currently taking.

i keep thinking it’s going to lead somewhere. i know that he does care about me. it’s up to me to decide if it’s enough. i know he wants me in his life. it’s up to me to decide if i want to be in it anymore if this is how he treats me.

clearly, i go back and forth between whether or not it is worth it, and more explicitly, whether or not he is worth it. it’s interesting how this has started to mirror his uncertainty about whether or not i’m worth the effort to him. he’s already expressed he doesn’t think i am, so i suppose the decision is mine to make.

i’m unsure about how i feel. i’m torn between what i genuinely believe and what i feel i should believe. how i feel versus how i’m meant to be. i’ve never been very good at using logic to overrule my feelings. i treat common sense as a suggestion to accompany my emotions rather than a rule. the exact opposite of what he does.

i’m sure if expressed he would say that it’s normal as a woman to do so, but that he must remain the logical of us two. he isn’t the more logical. he’s impulsive, brash, go-with-the-flow to counter my calculated, polite, obsessive.

my actions align with my intentions and words, his never do. that doesn’t make me want him any less. his ability to mix the more wild approach to life, the ‘head-in-the-clouds’, relaxed outlook with a life of responsibility, duty and dependability is exactly what drew me to him. we’re much more alike than people give us credit for.

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6:55 pm:

i feel really alone and yet have no one to reach out to or talk to. attempting to talk to any member of my family about anything is never productive, and i’m not sure who to even consider my friend at the moment. it’s one of those days where the thoughts just don’t stop and don’t let me breathe for even a second without a reminder of something negative. nothing feels right and everything is off and i feel alone. i have no one to share my thoughts with and work through, and journaling like this only helps so much.

i keep filling that pit in my stomach and chest, that tightness and discomfort that overwhelms me. i miss when things were easier. when having a good relationship with my mom wasn’t the most complex thing in the universe. when i could reach out to a.b.s. without thinking of a thousand different ways it could go wrong and worrying i’m just making things worse. when i could message a friend and know that they care about me for me and are not just interested sexually or financially. i miss not feeling alone. i think that’s a big reason i keep chasing a relationship – a companion, a friend.

i’m left with a thousand thoughts and no way to express them or even release the frustration of them – swimming didn’t help, distraction hasn’t, journaling isn’t. everything just feels bad today.