So I had a great day today. This weekend, I got my dress, I got over being sick, I deleted that player of a man from facebook and my phonebook…but when I saw you, I still felt it.
Actually, no, I didn’t. I DIDN’T! Wow, I didn’t feel the tug in my heart, the knots in my stomach-there weren’t any problems with my voice. I held my conversations. I watched you laugh today in our conversation. Hell, I laughed with you at one point when we were all together.
I don’t miss him, I don’t miss you, but he was never the kind of guy you were. It’s funny, because here I was, thinking he was the asshole all along. I mean, he was, “being friends” with nearly 13 girls and counting…yeah friends, my ass. But you? You made it seem so perfect. You did it so well. And the worst part is, I wish I still wanted you, that’s how good you are.
But today was the happiest day of my life. Nothing in particular happened, but I was happy. I had no secrets. I had no worries. I had no shadows other than the one cast by the sun.
And boy, did the sun shine on me.
So I guess I’m writing this half because it further prevents me from reading about the French Revolution, but also because I’ve written so much, in my diary, all about you. Wanting you, wishing the other guy wanted me more…but he’ll never want me. And you’ve given me up.
Maybe now is how it feels to be entirely content with yourself. I hope and pray that you are just as happy with that girl you’re with tomorrow as I will be with my friends. Because in the end, who do I have? It’s definitely not you, or him, or even most of my family. It’s me.