move on

You say you love me.

No you don’t

You tell me I’m beautiful.

I am beautiful. You have no idea though.

I don’t hate you.

I don’t love you.

I’m numb. The tears have dried.

It’s too late, too much damage done.

I’m your second, third, fourth choice. No thank you.

You let me know how little you love and respect me, time and again.

Get out of my house.

Warm kisses on my neck, arms hold me tight.

My body responds.

I can handle it. It doesn’t mean I expect anything…more.

Where are you going?

Who are you?

I want to feel.

Love.

I’m trying…
But it’s hard.
Gets harder everyday.
Must be nice to have moved on already..
Wish I knew your secret..

You know that pain you feel or anxiety that occurs in your lower abdomen when you feel disappointment? or for a lack of word choice, getting emotionally hurt where you feel a sudden heavy punch in your stomach. As if your heart is melting in pain. You’re so hurt and distraught that all you feel is that pain. You try to take deep breaths and it works a little until you have to take another breath.

Well that pain, it has a name. It’s a direct hit to your solar plexus [celiac plexus]. The solar plexus a network of nerves that receives signals from your brain that give you feeling of despair in your abdomen. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

Example: Heartache from a break-up.

It’s true. Studying to be a nurse, you discover a lot of useful information.

Anyways.

That feeling, that blow in my solar plexus.. I feel it even now. It’s getting harder to deal with.

So I say it again.. It must be nice?

Letting go of different things, moving on from different things. I will not delineate them all here; I am already too busy walking.

One of these things is 43T. There are people here on 43T that I am happy to be friends with and would like to keep up with. But I am not going to stay. My time here is simply over, the season passed. I have invested energy in other projects and places that call for my attention now, and that is where I need to be.

am I supposed to move on when he is always here?

Last weekend drunk and horny

Now helpful and gentle

Whatever..it matters not. I am not trying to meet anyone else for quite some time.

He can’t sleep at his place he says, also no shower there.

Perhaps I take our “relationship” for what it is?

I’ve no idea what is going on here.

He doesn’t communicate, never has and I am long past caring to communicate with him anymore…or caring to analyze his intentions.

I just more or less do my thing and deal with him when I need to in a very passive way.

still stubbornly remains in the back of my mind at every waking moment.

I don’t want him when i see him but he is still a part of me, a big part of my life.

at the thought of ever trying to get to know anyone again.

First the unlikelyhood of meeting someone who I can connect with, also the fear of giving myself again.

I said many times that if he breaks my heart I’m done. I said it half joking but knowing full well that I’d fallen so deeply that the pain of the tearing apart would be devestating. I knew it would be….what could ever compare to that?

When I talk to him, at times the feelings are gone and at times I look back thinking, “What if..?” When I hear his voice, memories come back..but I’d rather have it forgotten. I’m ready to move on, and I’m getting there.

to the art show going on in the studio he’s living in. He dug out all of his art from his parents’ and brother’s houses, nothing to show from the past 4 years, stuff from when he was still in school.

Claims noone else is in his life…whatever.

This reliving his college days thing is so pathetic. I guess it would be good if he would get back into art, music, writing but I can’t help but resent him living a bachelor life while I take care of our family. I am where I want to be, don’t get me wrong, I just think it’s lame that he’s decided to act 20 again. He could have still pursued those things, having a family. He’s done many many hours of nothing that could have been filled with music and art instead of video games and (boxed) wine. puke

I think/hope he just wants me to bring baby girl so she can see/experience the art show.

I don’t understand what he’s doing. I don’t want to go but feel obligated now to let L experience it…don’t want to give her up…also don’t want to really go socialize in my mushy belly, post partum, frequent nursing state. My son already said he didn’t want to go but honestly, I think he’d like it and could possibly even encourage his interest in art…

Maybe I give the kids to him and I’ll come back here with the baby and fold laundry….

We’ve been entirely civil and even sweet to one another regarding taking the baby back and forth. I can’t help but wait for the inevitable bullshit to come.

cleaning out my closet, found cd of old photos.

damn he was sexy.

Ones of us playing and acting silly at an open mic before he went to jail when I was first pregnant.

Found one of me after he went to jail when I was pregnant with baby girl that a friend of mine took. I looked so sad, so weary already.

Movin’ on, back to closet cleaning.

Deeeeeep breath

I didn’t want to be a single mother of two tiny ones at 33. God! I loved him so damn much!!!!

Ok, moving on.