FML

Somehow I’m going to try and pretend that I haven’t been up for several hours already, doing nothing. I hate wasting time like this. I hate the way the boy wastes my time.

All this fighting… we never even get to fuck. I think I might be ovulating, it’s for the best. I must be ovulating, that would explain the constant nosebleeds yesterday, the day before and today. Of course, it could be my side dude. I’m still a little shaken by the awkwardness of our time together, but I know that’s me, not him.

And the boy. I have to stop calling him that, but whatever. I’m devastated, I think we’re breaking up. I should be happy, I don’t need him, I barely even want him in the rational sense. But I do want him badly, and I have never been able to explain to myself why. I know that he feels doubt about the situation, I would too.

My mind wanders back to the last ex, and yeah, maybe even onto the one before. The last ex, it took him a long time to believe that I loved him… did I though? And then the infamous ex, he was always convinced that I was leaving at any minute, because honestly who would not leave an asshole like that. And then my mind turns and honestly why would I bother treating any of these men better than they are.

And back to the boy. I have treated him well, I have treated him better than he is. However, I treat myself well, and he just happens to be there. He should really stop being so defensive about it. I think he’s expecting me to be more than I am. I don’t know if I want to indulge that fantasy further. It’s exhausting.

I told him that we should meet later to talk about “us”. As if there’s an us. As if it’s not just him, and me seeing how much of him that I can stand, and having him still urge me to get more down my throat.

I should have never told him about this, my recordings. Now he urges me to go back through the logs, and check, as if I don’t know that it was November (I think the 14th) of last year that I finally realized that I loved him, and have regretted it so strongly ever since.

I treat myself better than I am, too. I know that. It’s aspirational.

I stumbled on my affirmations this morning, words just didn’t come together, they didn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense. Why do I want to fuck the boy so badly right now. And how does he continually grab time away from all these other things that should mean more. As a matter of fact, coffee or no I’m going to bail on this post to go handle some things…

Or at least that was my plan.

Instead I just sat down on the couch and cried.

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