The End.

Well I’m jumping ahead here about one thousand pages but um. I sorta have to.

 

I didn’t cry.

 

I thought of as many reasons as I could, of how mean you were to me. How I’d never been treated so poorly in any relationship in all my time.
Till the very last drop I let myself believe I deserved it. That because I screwed up, it was okay. I have never been in an emotional abusive relationship. I never even understood them. But now? I have as much experience as a 400 acre hay field has hay.

Even after all my positive explaining. The reality in my soul of how I wanted us to work together and BELIEVED we could and laid out a plan and format we could use. The time it would take . ‘You can’t expect to trust me overnight, and I can’t expect you to. ‘

‘I’m not capable of being with you’, you said, ‘ I just wanted you around so that noone else could have you’.
For six months.

Six months.

 

I still love you. I’m not over any of this. I will profusely be shoving out any thoughts of you, of any of our existence. Until I can do so without sobbing. I still love you.
You don’t deserve me. ¬†And I will say that over and over in my head each day for however long it takes.

I haven’t cried.

I still love you.
I am not weak. I am strong and fighting. Tomorrow I will be out running my legs, crunching my stomach,  pushing pushing pushing.

I will get through this, and so will you best friend, so will you.