mermaidblue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mermaidblue) wrote2012-02-21 03:24 am
mermaidblue) wrote2012-02-21 03:24 am
(no subject)
I'm fairly sure some of you are pretty sick of me and my whinging. But there too much floaty in my head, too may quiet hours in my night shift, and too many questions left unanswered. And I have no where else to put it without annoying people with phone calls or cracking. So it goes here.
I fecking hate this. How can the person who knows you best out of anyone in the world and loves you anyway still be not the right person? How can we have survived so many traumas only to fail now? Why? I feel cursed. All I want right now is to go back 6 or so years to a cold October morning when J and I were both sleeping in a town bed at my sisters place. It was a horrible time in my life but at least I believed in love, and in us. At least I was warm, and safe, and loved instead of cold and tired and alone.
It was not a perfect relationship and he was far from a perfect man...and I know I did the right thing. I don't miss going home and wondering what I might find. I don't miss his drinking or yelling or withdrawing. But I do miss him. Maybe I wouldn't if he'd left the dogs. Maybe it's just that I need physical comfort so much and I don't have anyone here I can turn to for more than a hug. Maybe it's all the dreams I'm having to let go. And maybe that I have very little fuckin faith left after all the losses in the last 8 years.
It almost doesn't matter. He's gone, the dogs are gone...and I have no faith that there will ever be a replacement. I'm done.
I fecking hate this. How can the person who knows you best out of anyone in the world and loves you anyway still be not the right person? How can we have survived so many traumas only to fail now? Why? I feel cursed. All I want right now is to go back 6 or so years to a cold October morning when J and I were both sleeping in a town bed at my sisters place. It was a horrible time in my life but at least I believed in love, and in us. At least I was warm, and safe, and loved instead of cold and tired and alone.
It was not a perfect relationship and he was far from a perfect man...and I know I did the right thing. I don't miss going home and wondering what I might find. I don't miss his drinking or yelling or withdrawing. But I do miss him. Maybe I wouldn't if he'd left the dogs. Maybe it's just that I need physical comfort so much and I don't have anyone here I can turn to for more than a hug. Maybe it's all the dreams I'm having to let go. And maybe that I have very little fuckin faith left after all the losses in the last 8 years.
It almost doesn't matter. He's gone, the dogs are gone...and I have no faith that there will ever be a replacement. I'm done.