And Look She's Back

I can't believe that I am blogging my whole sad sorry life at the moment for my friends and any lurkers *hi there - say hi back, god knows I need it*. But you know what? I need to let this out. I have cried my heart and eyes out to my parents and friends, I just sound like a broken record. But to write it and not care who sees it is also so therapeutic. I could do it privately, but no, I'm OK giving the 'world' my life story. To know some people there care even just a little makes me feel a touch better. I repeat - you don't have to read it.

Last time I looked at the clock last night was 2.30am-ish. I woke up at 3.45am-ish - you know when you wake up and that split second you have no idea what day it is yet, or what you need to do, or no idea on anything. Well in that split second, I forgot. I totally forgot. If I could bottle up that feeling and swig it all day that would be the best thing in the world right now. Until the realisation hits - and I started bawling. Gee that doesn't sound like me now does it? My contacts won't even fit in my eyes today - I've turned Japanese overnight. I cried and settled myself repeatedly for an hour.

At 4.45am I got up, dressed and went for a walk. Except I wouldn't even call it that. It was a dawdle. I didn't know I could walk so slow - I hate to think what I looked like. Girl walking at snail's pace, in the dark, bawling her eyes out in hysterics, to the point where she cannot breathe. Finds park bench and sits and is a mess.

You know what the worst part is - I was drawn like a magnet to his house. I passed it. I bawled. I'm not going to become a pathetic stalking ex-gf, but on the same token, that fuckhead is not going to make me change the path I walk and run on. (Quick run-down - mum and dad's house and his house he part-owns are in the same suburb - like 4 blocks - since he moved to town 14 months ago. I didn't officially live with him, it was easy enough having home home just round the corner. I spent 80% of my time there and stayed home when he worked out of town).

On the way back I almost went through the side gate to his room at the back and bashed down his door to let me in. I had no idea what for. What I would say. It was the magnetism. Even to just punch the shit out of him, it would have made me feel better. The 2% sensible part of me made me keep walking. I may have felt better momentarily, but I can't let him have the satisfaction of seeing me in the mess I'm in.

My record now is about 4 hours without breaking down. I hope to beat that today. It's all so fresh and raw still, in fact, I know I'm in denial.

I cannot believe that that sentence he said yesterday can erase 4 years of history and promise.

Don't worry, I'm not delusional - I get it, but actually grasping it and coming to full terms with it is something entirely different.

Does anyone know how to make voodoo dolls?

(And I repeat - if you the fuckhead happens to read this, go to fucking hell. I. HATE. YOU. You are a pathetic, lying, cheating, piece of shit who will end up all alone. You will NEVER bring me down with you. And get the FUCK off my blog.)

Would you believe I rarely swore?