I wish I’d taken the blue pill, there’s definitely something to be said about blissful ignorance. Two months ago I was happy. Blissfully so. I thought my life was finally going somewhere. I was out of debt and living with a guy I thought genuinely adored me. I was safe and content and enjoying life for the first time in a long time.
And then that all came crashing down. And every time I think maybe there’s some salvaging any of it life goes and crashes just a little bit more.
Last night I got the dreaded midnight text. I’d texted him at noon. He returned it at midnight. I assume after he’d exhausted all other potential people and I was, once again, the last one left. He wanted to get laid of course. Why else does a guy message a girl at midnight? Caught me off guard again since we haven’t even slept together in a solid month at least. Apparently I’ve fallen so far off that pedestal I’m now just a vagina to him too.
That may have been the final bit of hurt I can take from this guy.
Despite all that I’m still wishing none of this had ever happened. That I didn’t know I was the last one left standing, or just a roommate he fucked occasionally, that he had so little real respect for me that disappearing with my car for a night seemed reasonable.
I wish I’d never fallen off that pedestal. Reality is far worse than the little fantasy Id built myself.
And reality is all I have now. I’m tired. I’m so frikkin tired of being torn apart and tossed away. My soul is tired. My heart is tired. I’m breaking. I don’t want to do this any more.
The worst part about all of this is I did it to myself. I created this little world where he was everything I thought I wanted and where I thought he felt the same. I decided to spend money I didn’t have to help him out. I literally did this to myself. It’s not the first time I’ve ignored all the flags. And I doubt it will be the last cuz apparently a high IQ does not a goddamn thing for me in the real world.
In other weird personality quirks (I’m trying not to insult myself anymore than I have to at this point so I’m calling them quirks) apparently I really want to hide when I’m feeling like this. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I’m even blah at work although everyone thinks I’m mad when really I’m just trying not to cry. I suppose that’s good. I’d rather appear mad than weak.
But it’s weakness for sure. I can feel it to my core and I don’t know if any amount of glue will fix the cracks now.
I’m so tired.