Too many held breaths…

Calling last week hell would be the fucking understatement of the year. This time last week, hell was looking like sunny blue skies and tropical beaches and a lot better than where I was at emotionally and mentally. I’m not that emotionally mature to begin with and I felt like I didn’t have the knowledge of dealing with so much at once…

I’ve previously mentioned on this site that I’ve been dealing with a stalker now for almost 2 years. Last week involved not just one incident but 2, what made this especially difficult was the fact that he now knows where I live. I’m dealing with this the best way I know how and the police is involved, it’s just they’re just not doing anything at the moment (frustration level are at an all time high with this one). This has left me feeling incredibly angry but also too vulnerable. I’ve become a little paranoid and I’m starting to hate living alone. I was obviously pissed about all this, but I thought I was managing OK (not really, but lying to myself is one of my greatest skill in a moment like this). Well, that all came crashing down when I saw my ex with his new girlfriend (I’m gonna give you a moment to curse this fool’s name, just like I’m doing right now).

It’s has been exactly 6 months since we’ve been broken up and while I have good days and bad days; I’m good most of the time. But nothing prepared me for the rush of unexplained emotions that flooded me on the sidewalk. It felt like a kick to the stomach and every sickening emotion. There he was with his new girl, literally skipping down the street while holding this girl’s hand. I think for me it was THE confirmation that he didn’t love me anymore, and that hurt more than anything he could have said in that moment. To know that I’m still dealing with my feelings about him, and he’s seemingly unbothered, left me feeling so angry but mostly hurt. How is so easy for him to move on? Honestly, the human mind moves at the speed of light, because I didn’t think it would’ve been possible to feel this insecure about myself in matters of seconds, but it was.

Why is it that my very first reaction, is to breakdown and literally analyze this moment and the relationship? Why is it that I’m the one who’s crying on the bus and he’s out there fucking girls and having the best time doing it? Did he ever love me? Did he even miss me? I could go on for days, but talking to my best friend, that’s when it hit me: why am I spending all this time thinking about someone who obviously does not give two shits about me!?! I’m not gonna insult your intelligence by trying to come up with some elaborate answer because it’s pretty simple: I still love him.

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