| Fuckin' Chuck Norris |
[14 Aug 2006|01:54am] |
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Tom and I have been having a rough few weeks.
I guess it's best to start at the beginning.
We both went into the England trip expecting that afterwards we'd break it off. We'd had a lot of problems prior, but he assured me that everything would be okay once we were together. And, for the most part, he was right. We got along; he was enthusiastic, caring, positive, smart.
But all that ended with distance.
We were having the beer discussion again. I won't get into it, but this issue is a dealbreaker.
I'm scared that when we fall apart our plans will, too. And I want to see him again. But I can't keep doing this. I can't worry over him anymore. I can't keep trying to fix things I'm unable to. And I can't keep wasting tears.
I won't ever be able to give him what he needs until we're back together again. And that's when it all came crashing down around me.
He told me that in order to consider it a proper relationship he needs to be able to feel me and hold me and hear me. That the last five years have been Hell for him. And when I asked him if it had been real?
"No. I don't think that was a real relationship."
I don't think I have ever, ever hurt so much inside as I do now. To find out how he feels about it now - that, in truth, our relationship has lasted a grand total of two weeks - kills me. It kills me.
It was enough for me. It was never perfect, but I was content. His love was enough. Nothing else mattered. I can't believe this. If it's not real then it's nothing at all. It's fake. And I don't want anything to do with it.
We'll be a proper couple again sometime. Until then, I can't do this. Not knowing what I know now.
He's not the person I thought he was. I can't look at this the same.
I need to fucking stop crying and pick up the pieces of whatever's left of this.
And I didn't go to The Bite.
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