I put off going to the grocery store all damn day. And then it started pouring. I had been thinking of you. The show I went to last night, dragging a girlfriend with me for the “free” ticket. It was your birthday gift. . . but you left me.
I had fun. I laughed. I drank a Lemon Drop. . . I pushed the pain down.
And today I worked steady and hard all day. If I thought of you, I pushed it out until around five. I just started crying. Over a commercial I saw with your former bank advertised for a concert.
Just when I start building strength I crumble. I just told my friend last night what I needed after months of this empty, painful gut wrenching void where you once were was some new love interest. That I thought it was the only thing that could break this for me. . . at least enough to get my mind off of you, us, the depression you faced, the worry, the pain, the what ifs, the constant rejection, the feeling of never being loved, etc.
I walked out of the grocery store. . .
And there he was… a casual friend I have known for some time. We talked, laughed for forty minutes in that parking lot before he asked for my number and if I’d go out with him.
I said yes. He texted me ten minutes later and I have a date with him tomorrow.
Funny how good that makes me feel. Perhaps it’s the wanting, the small valuing, that I haven’t felt in some time. Perhaps it’s the chemistry I have always had with him I can now explore. Perhaps it means I am going to be able to move on. . . I am so scared once I do, you’ll come back and it will be too late. Perhaps I am glad that although you assume I am at home pining over you and writing love sonnets, I will actually be moving on with my life–without you.
My fight for you is over. I fought nine rounds too long as it was. You are a damn liar and a fool..and a coward to bat.
Perhaps our love story was meant to be a tragedy. It seems to be the case so far.
And perhaps tomorrow wont be a great date or perhaps it will–either way, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m giving up on you. . . and although it hurts, it means I am facing the fact that it really is over…it’s also a relief. . . you treated me like shit for two years and you never valued me enough to hold onto me.
You ruin everything beautiful…like crazy, and I am not sure you give a flying fuck or ever did.
One day I wont give a flying fuck either.