I feel like anger is an easier emotion to feel than all the others.
I suspect because often anger is directed at someone or something.
The blame for this emotion lays outside of yourself, making it tolerable.
Yes, I’m angry.
Did I want to go all in only to get heartbroken?
I am a smart person.
I would never dedicate myself to someone without a good amount of reassurance first.
I was sure and he was sure.
That’s what I saw, felt, and heard.
This is what he told me and only after that did I feel safe enough to completely jump in head first.
I cannot be blamed for trusting this.
So, yes, there is a certain amount of anger I feel towards him.
But I don’t blame him entirely.
Because I knew there was a chance that this would happen.
I knew what I was getting into.
Sure, falling in love isn’t a choice.
I didn’t choose to fall in love with him.
I’m sure he didn’t feel like it was a choice to fall in love with me.
It just happened.
I don’t know if I will ever understand how or why, but it doesn’t change that fact.
So loving him was not a choice, but engaging it was.
I could have stayed away.
He could have stayed away too.
But we didn’t.
And we bonded, falling deeper in love than I think we both expected or imagined.
So I cannot blame him for my heartache.
Because I played a part in it too.
I never needed him.
I don’t need him.
I want him, that’s the difference.
I miss him and what he brought to my life in that brief amount of time.
I am plenty self-sufficient.
I know how to survive.
But I’m trying to live.
I was learning to live by myself and I was fine.
I had thought I needed my ex before I left that relationship in order to fill this void I felt I had inside, but I found out that was not true.
I fill my own void.
I love myself and who I’ve become.
That’s the truth.
But I got a taste of what life would be like with him in it.
And it was amazing.
So it was devastating to have that taken away, without having any say.
I feel helpless.
And that makes me angry.
But it mostly makes me sad.
It makes me sad because I love him, in an embarrassingly intense teenage way.
Even with this heartache, I love him.
It’s supposed to be getting easier with time, so why does it feel more painful with each passing day?
I know he loves me just as much and just as intensely.
I have enough confidence in my ability to hear, read, and see to know this for absolute truth.
Still, he has his process he needs to go through to figure out what he really wants and what he’s willing to do about it.
And that’s why I have to let go.
Not that he gave me much of a choice.
I’m not fond of tragic love stories.
They frustrate the hell out of me.
I don’t understand why anyone would choose to not be with someone they love and are happy with.
That’s the simple logic in me talking.
The reckless, I don’t give a fuck version of me.
I feel like life is short and love is rare so why not spend every moment you have enjoying this gift you have been given.
Especially when it just falls in your lap.
But life is complicated and there are reasons to be accounted for.
Still, this is torture.
I miss him.
I miss you.