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These are the records of certain occurrences and musings in my life. It is probably not of much importance to you, unless you enjoy being a sleuth or have some vague interest in listening to me prattle about my flavour-of-the-month.
Sigh
You know how that saying is... what goes around comes around? That's a mantra I'm becoming rapidly acquainted with lately. The actions you make in the past may have a huge impact on your future. What you do to others, you might have to endure... all that nonsense. So it shows that the callous actions I have committed have led to my current situation.

When I go back and read all my entries in the past, my heart hurts. I'm not even sure why I do it. I broke up with you four years ago, and when I did, I was relieved. I won't say I made a mistake, because I know I didn't. Our relationship had hit a plateau, and you weren't mature enough for what I wanted. I knew that. Hell, I still know that. But why did all the negative feelings dry up like a puddle under the sun, only leaving me with a slew of heart-rending, tender memories I can't shake? Everything that those past entries encapsulated? All the moments with you I cherished and swore by and stick to the insides of my eyeballs like a chained phantom? Why after four goddamned years do I want you back so badly my emotional state is regressing to that from my teenage years, making me relive the sort of pining I thought I was long past?

Is this some kind of sick joke? All it took was one dream to make me go against all my common sense and reach out to you. And you responded without telling me to ******** myself, like I would have deserved. You actually tried to amend with me, you even met with me when I asked. But part of me wishes you hadn't. You really should have just left me in the past, instead of letting me see you again. Instead of letting me dare to hope that maybe, just maybe you still held some shred of your old interest for me, that you might be able to forgive the past and give me another chance.

You dance around the unspoken query of my feelings, showing me no cracks in the defense you've erected against me. Is this just because it's you, or is it because you don't want to get close to me again? I'm too afraid to ask. Why do you even meet up with me, just to keep me at arm's length? I can't fathom it. And because I don't understand it, I agonize more. I despise uncertainty.

And I know you are, because you don't even seem to want to see me, you won't even message me back most of the time. You make no suggestion for me to come back to your place. My overwhelming desire to see you is hushed by your seemingly equal one to waste no time with me. Again, all my common sense is telling me urgently to sever myself from everything... and I could, if I didn't have all these memories cropping up and playing like a sad, broken record in my head. Reminding me of what I willingly gave up, and that you, seem to have no remaining fondness for. God, it hurts. It really does.

It didn't even hurt to break up with you. It didn't hurt to leave my fiance either. When I make those decisions, I'm fully prepared for the aftermath. But I was not, and am not prepared for the emotional havoc this has wrecked upon me. My heart hurts... and not even for the reasons it should. One would think I'd still be grieving over the loss of my relationship with Taylor... but honestly, no. Not even a smidgen. I had so many reasons and months of build-up toward the sad death of that relationship that I am completely assured of its end. I still care about Taylor a lot in a platonic sense... or at least I did, until he called me a maggot amongst other things for meeting up with Matt despite the nature of our meetup being completely unromantic. We haven't spoken since he made a very ill-received attempt at apologizing for that, and I've taken it upon myself to ignore all of his messages. Here's where the irony comes in, because Matt doesn't really answer my messages either. See what I mean about karma?

I hurt Matthew, I left him in cold-blood. I didn't speak to him for years. Then again, he didn't speak to me either. He deleted me off everything... didn't even make an effort to get me back. Did he really care at all? I wish I could ask him. I wish I could talk to him about everything that's been parading through my head and torturing me since the first time I saw him after all those years. God I wish something I could say would convey everything to him in perfect clarity, and he'd remember all those little moments I die over now, and want them too. But do I really deserve him after what I did? Maybe he doesn't think so. Maybe it wasn't worth it for him and it never will be again.

If only I had the answers so I could just move on if I needed to, but I don't want to ******** this up. Please, just... give me a chance to show you. If I still mean anything to you at all. I'm just so scared of coming on too strong and blowing everything, so I hold myself back... if only I knew how to really handle this the right way...





 
 
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