I’m so much better when I have it. Not knowing things is the hardest part.
At least now I know.
At least now I know for sure I should move on.
He likes someone else. He probably hasn’t ever not liked her. And I knew that from the beginning. And I did it anyway.
I’m glad we did it.
I’m glad because I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I can be sacrificing. That I can put people before myself and that’s not exactly alwaya healthy. That I need to make sure I check in about how someone feels before I go into problem solver mode.
I learned that I’m growing up.
I learned how to suck someone’s dick and I learned what it feels like to be liked back, even if they didnt actually love me.
It’s still nice to be liked. But it would have been better to be loved.
I don’t know how to move on completely.
I don’t know that I believe its possible to really move on from someone you love or loved.
I don’t know. I just know I feel calmer.
Sad because it ended so soon.
Sad because at the end of the day how I feel doesn’t matter much. (Though maybe that’s as it should be).
Sad because I don’t know what to do with the memories. Or with the what if’s. Or with myself.
Onwards and upwards.
To bigger things.
To better things.
At least he helped learn how feeling things is again. I’d forgotten it was possible to feel more than numb or anxious for a while.
I guess that’s