But my reaction, I couldn't believe. When it happened, I jumped off the top bunk and laid on Bridget's bed. I started to sniffle, not full on tears, but sniffle. I was hurt, sure, but I couldn't bring myself to bawl my eyes out, which was something I felt I needed to do. I felt that same pounding in my head, that drooping of my eyes, that defeated feeling I used to be overcome with all the time last year and a half ago. But why couldn't I cry? Why could only a handful of tears fall from my eyes? I was in emotional pain, I know I was. But it wasn't the same as before. So I have two theories, one is the optimist version, the second pessimist:
+ 1.) I have matured in every aspect of my being. Spiritually, Emotionally, Physically, Mentally, etc. At that moment, when I saw how broken down he was, how badly he still needed me, even though he made a terrible mistake verbally, all I wanted to do was hug him and tell him it was okay. I think after everything I went through with Adam, I just realized that people make mistakes and all I can do is forgive them and move on from there. I always think about that one phrase I heard one time, "If God can forgive him, what right do I have not to?" Even though what he did is not justifiable, I feel like love is so much stronger than being and staying mad. Sure, it hurt like hell, but for some reason, I just wasn't as bad as I thought I was going to be. And maybe it's because I've just grown up so much, more than I could've ever imagined, after every single thing I went through the past year and a half. I feel like being mature in that sense is what true love is all about. Maybe I really do truly love him, despite the fact that he hurt me so bad that night.
- 2.) I'm used to the pain, the disappointment, the realization that everything gets messed up, the harshness of being let down by somebody you give your whole self to. Toward the end of my relationship with Adam, I didn't get as upset as I did on the onsets of his 'I-don't-love-you-anymore' phases/days. I got used to them. I stopped bawling my eyes out every day and accepted that eventually, we would break up. And we did. Now, maybe I'm just so used to the way my past was, that I think nothing will ever be different from it. Maybe I still believe that every guy is going to hurt me, and I'll be the one alone, even though I did everything I ever could to be the best girlfriend, to make my boyfriend the happiest I could. Yet, I'd still be the disappointed one. Maybe I can't cry anymore because I used up so many of my tears already. Is there a limit on how much you can cry in a certain amount of time? I don't deserve it, but it has happened so often to me, that maybe I do deserve this stuff. Or maybe I've just gotten too good at being numb to emotional pain.
I just don't know what theory is correct. Maybe it's a little bit of both. I just don't know what to do anymore. After that night, my brain kind of went into shut down. I haven't been able to think straight; confusion has overtaken my thoughts. This would be a perfect moment for a time machine. I just wish there's some way he could take it back. I know he'd do anything to take it back, and I'm not trying to make him feel worse than he does for doing what he did. I'm just reacting. I just want him to put that word in the past, forever. It's where it belongs. I never want to hear it ever again. Ever. I get too jealous and upset still. And it was just used at the worst possible moment. I feel like whenever we're going to try something, I'll just feel disgusted. I wish things were better. I wish people gave me as much as I give them. Maybe that's just wishful thinking, as it has always been.
1 comment:
the title of this blog reminded me of when practically 5 of us in teri's class said that was the last book we read, haha.
and thanks for all the support about my shitty friends, haha. my life...
see you saturday!!
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