December 11, 2008|
I feel okay when I see her, maybe slightly annoyed. It's afterward when everything begins to hurt and a sadness consumes me for the rest of the day.
I keep looking for her, driving places, wanting to see her, thinking of going back to her, telling her I would prefer to have a monogamous relationship instead of this. But the realization that I come to repeatedly assures me that it is too late for that. The idea in my head is that she will tell me nothing has happened between them, and I can re-enter life with her as if it's all cool. When I find information that conflicts with that, the hatred burns within me again. Last night I inadvertently saw her away message that talked about how she is out with this new guy, and how they are watching movies in his car, as we once did. So I drove to her house, and threw away the last thing she gave me, onto her front lawn.
To my relief, she called, and asked why I did that. And I didn't answer. But I felt relieved, cared about, for that night. In truth, I was also relieved that she got it back, not just because of my need for revenge, but also for a stupid, misguided sense of sentimentality. I didn't want anyone else to have it.
The thought that she has never truly felt anything for me, but rather a selfish need to fulfill her borderline desires, has been plaguing me as well. It scares me, like the past year has been a lie, like Alfred has been deceiving Batman all along. It scares me. There is no comfort to be found among that. But her behavior seems to reflect that, putting up that away message knowing that I could see it, calling once when I upset her, but never calling back again, as if to indicate that she feels an obligation to fulfill as a human, but can't be bothered to keep up the charade.
Hell, she's never even read this, even though I use it as an outlet for almost everything that's on my mind.
Being alone again is scary and strange, and I can't call friends nearly as much as I'd like to, because my time is limited.