...and for fucks-sake, have some self respect. This has been my internal monologue for the past few days.
Where did my common sense go? Out in the trash, along with the snotty tissues, filled with the tears wept over John. Something clicks and I'm right back where I was - that vicious cycle all over again:
this might be it, this is my time > he's just messed up > he IS attentive > he's distant > he's gone > he, doesn't want me? > he's got someone else > he does NOT want me > why doesn't he want me? > hate me > hate him > hate me > acceptance > [insert incident] > here we go again....
Recycling the old stuff. Is it me? Is it him? Does he know? Does he care?
They got that saying about love and loss all wrong. True - I guess it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all - but what they've forgotten about is the poor souls who want someone they can't have and won't ever have. Now that's a soul crushing curse.