And it’s still no easier.

Thirty Three Days.

I’m not going to consider the hours, minutes, or seconds. It would be too much.

Some days I believe I am making progress. And then there’s today. Am I?

Yes.

I’d love to be a martyr and say no… say it’s no better. I think it still hurts a bit… maybe as much as day one, and maybe I am just becoming more adept at compartmentalizing, stuffing, ignoring, sometimes dealing, and learning the new way about it.

I’m not used to this.

I’m not used to not being in control, of not having answers, or access to answers, and wanting something that really isn’t going to happen. It’s kind of like waiting to win the lottery without having bought a ticket. Wanting something that really isn’t going to happen.

There’s still the camp…

That will encourage me for the bullet I’ve dodged. The I can do better crowd. The I deserve more crowd. The I loved you as you were when we started crowd.

Fuck…

You know what I wanted? I wanted what we were working on. I wanted our plans. I wanted all of that. I wanted you. I wanted me. I wanted us.

Didn’t you want that too?

I have to believe you didn’t intend the collateral damage that was created in the past 33 days. I have to believe you didn’t mean to hurt me. And yet…

You did.

And.. there’s no putting the genie back in to the bottle. The sooner I realize that and really believe it, the better I will be.

I still wish you’d call me.

Though I don’t know exactly what I’d say. Though I don’t know exactly how I’d feel.

I love you. Still.

I’d rather love a million times and have my heart broken every time, than hold a permanently empty heart forever. H.C. Paye

This is a stinger. A bad one… the kind of hurt that isn’t really alleviated with anything. And believe me… I’ve tried.