shattered

It's not like that. It never was and never will be.

And now you've probably lost him for good.


Harsh reality is sinking in. I hate it. The part of me I've been working so hard to shut up is getting louder, telling me to pull away, telling me to put the walls back up, telling me to feel...betrayed.

Opening up hurts. It's ugly and painful and it makes me feel weak. It's hard to do and I don't exactly like doing it. But I was getting there.

This isn't his fault; I can't be mad at him. Not a single ounce of me wants to be, because I understand. But why can't I keep him? Why can't I at least get him back? And coming to...realizations...after I've already had him taken from me...damnit, he's not mine. I can't talk about this like he's mine. Who knows why I'm talking about this like he's mine in the first place.

Logic. I want logic. Logic is easy to understand. Your heart, your emotions are not logical. Who am I to want this...friendsish thing with nobody else involved? What the heck is that?

I don't want to abandon the hope that I will get him back. I don't want to accept the possibility of this loss.

Here's to hoping I didn't just make an ass of myself and that I won't regret this in the morning.