Thursday, October 20, 2011


Here I am again, sitting alone at my fucking computer spinning the same damn wheels I have spun for the past month.  You'd think that sooner or later I would get sick of writing about you, but since you're all I fucking think about...well.

I honestly wish that I could just hate you.  I tried really hard to convince myself that I did, even wrote it down a few times.  They feel fake and that pisses me off.  If I could just hate you this would be so much easier, but I don't.  No matter how much I want to curse you I cannot. 

I can't tell if you have so much control over me still because I let you or because I am just that broken.  I guess it really doesn't matter, pretty soon I'll have written about this enough that the few readers I have will give up and it will just be me talking to myself like it was in the beginning.  Maybe it would be better that way, maybe not.

Now I don't mean to let you slide on how badly you hurt me, but I know why you did it.  At least I think I do.  You sure did open my eyes to everything I was doing wrong, I just wish you could have done it in a way that didn't completely destroy my life.  Oh well I guess.  It's funny because normally I would just run into the arms of someone else, but this time I can't.  Or maybe it is that I won't.  In some sick way I feel like I deserve this pain, like it is my punishment for hurting you by not giving my all to battling my illnesses.  I guess that is why I can't hate you; I know how much pain I have caused you.

I know how you operate, when things are over you would just prefer to go about life as if I had never existed.  That really hurts because you know I am the exact opposite.  I think the lack of closure is eating away at me even worse than it did before.  Maybe I'm just not in shock anymore or maybe the cloud of pot smoke has finally cleared from my head and I can finally feel pain the way it was meant to be felt.  One way or another I cannot describe to you the pain I feel when I find myself thinking about you even when I try so hard not to.  It is slowly eating my soul.  I know that if I do relapse that the pain of losing you will be the reason.

I guess for that reason I wish that I could hate you, so that I could propel my recovery forward out of spite but that just isn't me.  I love you too much and I would prefer that the fading memory I have of you be a good one. 

They tell me that this stage of grief is one of the most painful.  Depression.  I should really stop writing about this, I really should.  I honestly wish that I could, but I write what I am thinking and feeling.  It hurts but I don't know what else to say.  I don't know if I actually have anything left to say.  I guess it strikes me as odd that I met you because of this blog.  This blog that made me so happy and now completely depresses the fuck out of me. 

I wish I would have never started it but unfortunately there is nothing I can do about the past anymore. 

The damage is done.  I'll just be here spinning my wheels, trying to heal and wondering if I will ever love like this again.  I almost hope I never do.  Such great love has brought me such great pain.  I don't know if I ever want either again.


Anonymous said...

"Such great love has brought me such great pain." I wonder about those relationships of mine that were so "loving" at the time and then endend in anger and tears...there is no peace in that.

I believe love shouldn't be painful. Once I realized that others can bring me pleasure but never happiness, things got a whole lot easier.

Maybe the two of you attracted each other because of the broken bits. I wonder if your choices will be different as you get stronger and clearer.

I hope she reads these posts. She has set you up for success even though you hate her..odd, isn't it?

Anonymous said...

Cheese, do you think addicts love addictively?

ez cheese said...

I do agree. She has set me up for success and that is precisely the reason I do not hate her.

And I'm not sure if addicts love addictively, I don't know if I did. All I know is that someday I will come to terms with it and realize it was three of the best years of my life. I hope at least because being bitter blows.