Remember.

I wrote this about a week and a half after T came to visit me for the last time... Thought I would put it up for a read.

I don't remember. I don't remember.
Feeling like this.
I don't remember feeling like this.
So fucked over.
So distraught.
So hating someone, but loving them inexplicably.

I don't remember the unsettled feeling.
The sick in the gut.
The pressure.
The angst.
The afraid of the unknown.

I don't remember crawling into my bed, crying my eyes out and being too exausted and embarrassed to see anyone.

I don't remember being so out of it.
I don't remember when my heart was last in shreads.
I don't remember hating myself for the decisions I've made
I don't remember hating someone, when it's my fault they're angry.
I don't remember the last time i didn't have a plan.
I don't remember.
I don't remember.
I don't remember.
The last time I was this lost.

But;
I know.
I know what you did.
Why you did it.
And: How it killed me.

I know, I know, I know I don't want to be like this.
I know I don't want to know.
I know I don't want to stop.
I know I don't want to sleep,
eat,
love,
fuck,
share,
live,
die,
hate,
care,
lie,
wonder,
accuse,
drink,
be here.

I know I don't want to feel this way,
I know we're unlogical,
unsuited,
unready.

I know it would be unrealistic to have you again.
But, I know, I can't help wanting you still.




From reading that now, it sounds as if it's from the perspective of someone who was the "breakupee", but I guess it's hard when you split for the best but there is still love present.

Weekend coming up, I feel delicious updates in my waters.

x.