Writing this hurts more than I thought it would. I feel incredibly lonely right now and am having a hard time seeing the "bright side" of things. The past four days have been absolute hell.
I'm single again.
That hurts to see. It makes my breath catch in my throat and my eyes water. I think the worst part is it isn't for any real, big, horrible reason either. The truth is, he's terribly busy, like beyond anything he should be expected to do.
I never could have seen last Thursday coming and expected to spend all of Labor Day weekend wrapped up in my boyfriend's arms. However, the world has been unforgiving. He did his best to make it a bit less painful, and I was the stupid one to drag it on for three days and attempt reconciliation so quickly.
I'm bad at going down without a fight.
And I did fight, hard, but my fighting could not change the fact that time was still a large issue that could not be fixed at the moment. He told me it was unfair to me, unfair for me to wait around for him to become less stressed. He was right, but I didn't want to hear that.
I lied, when I said "the worst part" earlier. There are actually two other "worst parts" that go along with the first: we love each other and were a great couple. In his own words, "We were a damn near perfect couple, Molly, we really were." And he's right again, we were. From beginning to end things were fairytale-like.
You never want to get wrapped up in a fairytale for fear shit will hit the fan soon, but after so many months I accepted my good luck and looked longingly into the eyes of the man of my dreams standing next to me. I had even gone as far as to think he was the one and all that mushy shit...and I'm not that romantic of an individual.
He said he wishes he had met me after he had established his career, and true things then would be different, but the unfortunate truth is that is not the case. And there they are, right next door, my perfect man and perfect relationship, kept from me because of time. I'm beginning to hate that word, "time."
This one...will be hard to get over, if I ever do (not trying to be dramatic here). I don't see myself falling out of love with him anytime soon. "Maybe someday," he says, "who knows maybe I won't be so busy in three weeks or after a couple months." Maybe.
I hate to be the cliche female fool clinging onto the "maybe," but I am. Yes, it is over, and I'll have to accept that eventually, but that "maybe" will ring in my ears for quite a while still. So my life will go on, and I'll try to push that "maybe" further in the back of my mind.
I have a full day's worth of homework to deal with today and I'll have to, hopefully not in vain, focus my mind. My eyes are still puffy from the sporadic bursts of tears and I'll hold an ice cube to them to bring the swelling down. I'll work out today to counteract all the crappy food people have been forcing on me lately.
At the very least, if time refuses to be my confidant and fucks me over and Alex and I never do end up with flexible schedules, I have my very good friend at my side. He will always be important to me and has been one of the most influential people in my life. I hope he knows that. I'm looking forward to a couple weeks from now when we can have coffee and talk.
I hate starting from scratch, but then again, it'll keep my senior year interesting.