Tear Stained

Remember the first day of this blog? How I said I didn't cry anymore? And then I did? I feel that way again, and for some reason I hope that after I post this I can find it in me to cry my eyes out.

I think worse than feeling bad is knowing you have all the strength to get over it but you just can't. And knowing it's just an old issue of growing thicker skin and dealing. I jump to conclusions and act like a brat. I put on an air of false confidence but just a layer beneath is a shaking pale girl frightened to death of taking a step, fearful that it will be in the wrong direction. I take everything too seriously and think selfishly that it all has to do with me.

On that note- P won't call me back or answer my emails. When I finally got a hold of him on facebook He told me that he'd call me that night. In a classically sad fashion I sat staring at the phone begging it to ring for hours but it never did. Then on facebook today (isn't it tragic how much that dumb website impacts my life?) he told S that they needed to do a skype date tonight. The conversation included a bit about her being his little sister. I really wish I could cry because in this instance I think it would help quite a bit.

Normally I call until they answer and try beyond hope to get them to notice me and want me. That's my M.O. But you can't force someone to love you. 569 and 10 money can't buy you back the love you had then.

(And I ramble on...) but I guess the part that hurts most is that he said always and forever. He told me he loved me. And I loved him for real. Time is supposed to heal all wounds but I know that isn't true. Sometimes I feel with fresh hurt the emptiness of being without my mother. That's been nine years and I still feel it. I wasn't supposed to be wounded by him anyway. He was my person, my support. I could call him in the middle of the night when E had said something particularly nasty. But now he doesn't want me anymore.

I'm over reacting. I know. But whatever. Fuck controlling your emotions. That's not who I am. If I do the whole waiting to see how things turn out and not jumping to conclusions thing I end up assuming it's my fault and swallowing too many asprin. I'm glad I have you, dear universe, because I feel like a total asshole when I tell other people about this. Self centered and over dramatic. Only trouble is, the universe never has a comforting arm to put around me and tell me in the calmest voice that "it's okay".