Every day I force myself to keep on moving even though I feel pretty dead inside. I can find small joy in things, and I have moments of rational thinking in which I am able to identify what might really be the best things for me rn.
I've been indulging in unhealthy behaviours. Messaging Johnathan too much. Relying on him for help and support. Going to him for answers but he's slowly starting to pull back.
He was the one who always told me to be safe. Drive safe. Take my pills. Take my pills on time. Eat. Wear a seatbelt. Don't text and drive. Don't go to Jamie's house because he isn't responding. Don't go inside if he doesn't answer.
Then he would screen everything for me. Any media - TV or movie - was vetted by him first to make sure there was no mention or depiction of suicide. He wouldn't even let me see it. He protected me.
Perhaps most of what I'm missing/ or what I'm seeking (from a partner) is security and guaranteed protection. One person who HAS to be there for me "no matter what".
Johnathan and I always had rules regarding this. He would BE there for me, but he wouldn't tolerate disrespect. If I was unwell, it didn't excuse me for treating him poorly. And I would try, time and time again, to treat him with respect regardless of my mental state. Regardless of if I was off my meds, manic, exasperated, or just overstimulated.
Parenting does that to you, there were so many times I just wanted to lean on him as a secondary parental figure. And I did, when I could. When he was available. Over time he became less and less available for us.
It's so hard to manage our lives and schedules.
The relationship failed when we stopped prioritizing it. We were "together" but the relationship had plateau'd and my unconditional love and willingness to try harder, do more, do anything - none of that mattered anymore. Something had switched in his brain, maybe his heart too, something changed and I no longer felt any love when we were together. I desperately tried to seek it out, doing many things to try to get him to show me he still cared. The harder I tried, the worse things got. Because I wanted my time with him so badly, I wanted all his time, and the more I held on the harder he pulled away. He said he did love me. I tried to believe I could adjust my needs in order to make him happy, thinking if he had what made him happy then surely he would make time for me and all would be right again. It didn't happen. No matter how much time and space I gave him, it didn't make him miss me or want to come back to me for some quality time. I began to accept less and less. It started to feel like he didn't need me, our relationship, and prioritizing it was no longer an option in his mind.
I truly cannot fathom how someone could really love another but give up this way. HE believes we tried for some time. I believe we were disconnected for a long time, and there were reasons that we couldn't make time for repair, and a couple stand alone incidents that did serious damage to our relationship. One being my friendship ending with Eva. And now her and Johnathan are still friends, possibly closer than ever, and of course it hurts me because now I've lost both of them.
And I miss both of them so much.
And it hurts me to see him move on.
And it hurts that I'm not by his side.
And I'm no longer your muse
I'm no longer every second photo on your camera roll.
You took my drill but left this big amp.
I'm still in love with my ex.
I only just began to say it out loud, I still haven't changed his name in my phone. His name is actually still everywhere. It's his birthday soon. He made his Instagram private so I can't get upset by his posts, and I'm still finding his earplugs all over the house.
And I'm still finding his razors.
And I'm still wondering if it was the experimental drugs that led him to initially stop feeling anything for me and making him so depressed.
He told me a few days ago that he still loves me and always will.
I don't know how he really feels and I never really did. I believe the words he says, I always believed him. I just think there's more going on inside his head that he won't dare speak aloud and I partly see the proof in that based on how he is about his mom. In our 4.5 years together he opened up to me about her *maybe* three times. He barely spoke of her. I think he holds a lot of deep pain inside and locks it up and swallows it down deep and I think he struggles with feeling things.
I wish he had agreed to go to therapy with me. I think he needs it, I think everyone needs it. I know I do, I wish I could afford to see someone again, if only to help me navigate this break-up and help me to understand WHY I think this loss is so important and WHAT I really want and need from this life because I cannot and will not enter another relationship until I really know why I'm doing that.
And I just mean other than wanting attention, physical affection, and someone to spend time with. I can get a lot of my basic needs met by either validating/celebrating myself, and surrounding myself with my friends. But I do crave intimacy, especially physical affection, preferably from a hot guy. Because it's been a hot minute.
I have a need to be constantly productive, and lately I'm at odds with the house feeling messy/cluttered, all the laundry I have to do because of Delilah, and the empty spaces that still make no sense since Johnathan has left. I'd love a roomate in theory but it would have to be JUST the right person.
I still feel alone here. The house isn't that big, but without him it feels huge.
I still want to make it a happy cozy space while we are here.
I don't know what the rest of the summer holds, let alone the rest of the year - but I know things have to change. Sometimes they stay the same for such a long time, but now it's one of those times when it all gets shook up and I'm thrown for a loop.
Last Summer everything changed.
Things I couldn't imagine happen, happened.
I'm still here, I still feel the warmth of sunshine on my skin, I can take a picture of a rose, I can watch my dog sleep.
I can still love and I will learn to love better, I will never stop trying to mend my broken relationships (unless specifically asked not to cross a boundary)
I don't want to live a life of regret and I don't want to believe that I'm a bad person who cannot be forgiven.
I love you, (Johnathan, Eva, Jamie, Linnea,)
But more importantly, I still love myself, enough to try again and try again.
And maybe I won't make the same mistakes again and again.
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