8th
pink moon.
it’s funny because i thought seeing my ex …ex-boyfriend/ex-conquest/ex-whatever really, would be worse than this. it should be, shouldn’t it? there’s no doubt in my mind that seeing your first of many things buying pre-natal vitamins with his girlfriend/fiance/whatever is a pretty scarring scene to witness - considering the abrupt nature of his departure and the way in which he left me laying there completely naked, in every sense of the word. and while it hurt, maybe even still stings a little, there are things that are taking precedence right now and it’s all stupid, petty, out of proportion bullshit. i hate that my priorities are more messed up than me. i hate that i still think about him, i hate that i caved on saturday and that i was the first one to back down. i hate that i swallowed, and still continue to swallow. my pride, that is, whenever he’s around. i hate that i dreamed about him twice last week, and in my mind’s eye we were happy. the kind of disgustingly happy that makes my stomach churn when i think about it now. i hate that i check my phone almost religiously (sacreligiously?) to see if he’s left a message or i’ve missed a call - maybe he’s changed his mind, maybe i’m what he wants now. maybe he’s realized he needs me like i’ve always needed him.
the weekend was a disaster, the days leading up should have been a pre-cursor. this weekend i’m writing myself off.
o and his girlfriend broke up, for good and for real this time. not sure how that makes me feel or what that makes me, but i’m certain neither are good. t is still on my mind.
