Current location:	Mom's house.
Current mood:	sad
Entry tags:	relationship

The World's End
I fucked up. I fucked up real bad.

The short of it is, I decided to goad my sister into playing a prank on Tom. One that appears to have touched on a sore spot for him - enough so that it looks like this is the end.

I don't know how one adds up hurt and pain. I don't know that you can or that you ought to compare one person's suffering to another's. I used to think all emotional pain was equivalent - a divorce, a death. But I hurt more every time I lose this boy.

What gets me the most is the fact that I was doing so well. I came back from England after having fallen in love with him all over again. I'm going to be that girl, I said. The perfect girlfriend. For the perfect boy. Yeah, I can say it now.

And I was, too. I only spoke good of him, stopped flirting, pledged true love. I planned his visit, things to do, set it up. I even tried to stop being jealous and start being supportive. Sure, I still had and have faults. But I was proud of myself.

Then I go and do something like this. And it hurts not only because I hurt him and lost his trust, but I let myself down. Everything I had said and done. I threw it all away because for one moment I wasn't thinking.

I didn't do it to hurt him or scare him or upset him. I did know there would be consequences.

I'm not a bad person. I don't deserve to be spoken to the way he speaks to me. But I understand. I know he doesn't mean it. He can't. Not after everything else.

Please, everyone. Stop taking my side in this. I appreciate the support, but I fucked up. Worse than I imagine I ever have. There's no one else to blame. And I dragged Emma down in all this, too. She doesn't deserve to be punished for my mistakes.

I can't take it back. I can't ever take any of it back, and I'm terrified that he'll never be able to trust me. That he'll go on hating me. I don't want to have to spend the rest of my life making it up to him.

Or, worse. Making it up to myself.

For whatever reason, I've ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me. If this is the last time I ever see him, I'll never forgive myself. I can't move on. I can't, I don't want to and I will not live a life without him.

I know we need to break up.

It's the best thing for us. But I don't fucking care.

Call me selfish, but I will not let go of the only man I've ever loved like this, to make me feel like this.

But whatever good there is inside of me knows that the best thing I can do for him is to let him find a place where I won't be able to hurt him anymore.

Call me selfish.

Comments off because I'm not asking for sympathy: you can't give it, I don't want it.