Broken Up

This is going to be one of those sappy, pathetic posts, largely because that's what I am right now, sappy and pathetic. And incredibly sad.

I'm sure you've all noticed that the last little while has been quite the up and down for me; September and October were mostly happy months punctuated with unhappy fights between Jason and I. And I'll admit it, we were fighting so much I felt like I was in high school again, where couples break up and get back together faster than you can say not doing your homework. But the entire time I stuck it out and honestly believed that everything would get better and that we would be able to work things out and be happy again. And then we didn't, at least not for more than a week at a time, max.

So finally, he called it quits.

And if you had listened really carefully, you could've heard the exact moment when my heart broke. It was when I said, "Okay."

I should have said, "NO. God, no, please! Don't leave me, I'll whither and die!!" But I didn't, and it was only after a couple days that I started fighting for us, but it seems that I may have been a little too late. I know that we've been having problems, and if he doesn't want in this relationship, I'm not going to make him, but I will do everything I can to prove to him that this will work again. I said okay because it's what he wanted. I would give him anything.

So apparently we're friends now, because there were so many things that were just fundamentally wrong in our relationship that he can't see it getting any better. We were going along that downward spiral, bad patterns, recurring problems. This is news to me. I can see that we've fallen into bad habits, have taken each other for granted, but I can't for the life of me ever see us...not working. I'm telling you, we were happy and so very in love. For a really long time. And I honestly believe that we could always be. This could be my naive optimism that everything in the world is just dandy, but it's not. I trusted us, I had faith in us, and I always will.

I'm not going to sugercoat it. Without him, I am miserable. Even though he lives down the street and we go to the same school and work on the same councils, and are technically Still Friends. I think that's what makes it harder. I look at him, and see the man that I adore more than anything in my life, the person I could give up anything for, and I see the man that doesn't want me back.

And I can't escape thinking about him, my room is filled with his things, little notes, a poster he scrawled on, gifts, he even helped me paint these walls a bright, retina-burning green. I know I need to get out of here, to clear my mind, find some friends and have some fun. And I will fight the urge to call and beg him to take me back, because if this goes on for long enough, I might just do that. I will fight, for me, for us, for a second chance.

So yes, there have been the crying until 5am nights, there have been the staying in my room all day days, and there has definitely been little eating and productiveness in general. Even spontaneous tears while boiling pasta. I'm falling behind on my life because I don't know how to live anymore. I pace my room because I want so badly to pick up the phone and call him because he's not calling me, I sit here at the computer staring at his MSN name hoping that he'll message me, I lie on my bed missing him beside me. I cry and sob and choke, burying my face in a blanket so my roomates don't hear, remembering us as we were, two happy people who learned and loved, missing the way we were, our beautiful past, and so very sorrowful for the future that we might never have.

8:12 pm