einsteins_girl

soybeans, I just wanted to say that I've been following your posts for awhile now, and I sympathize with everything you're going through. So often, your thoughts mirror my own. I suspect our exes were similar. The part I quoted above particularly resonates with me tonight. If he contacted me, I wouldn't ignore him either. I always, always wanted things to work out. The positions we are in suck. They just do. Just wanted you to know you're not alone.

It has been 60 days since we last had any communication. My therapist says she doesn't think you'll ever contact me. As in, forever ever. If she's right, that means the last things you ever say to me will be telling me I'm useless and throwing the things you did for me back in my face. You really want those to be my last memories of you after six years of being together? You want that to be how I remember the end? That last conversation was so weird because you were so hurtful, and it came out of nowhere. You must have been holding on to a lot of resentment to just start saying those things to me. I'm proud I said nothing cruel back. All you heard from me was hurt and confusion... yet you kept throwing verbal daggers my direction. It was such a strange conversation. I can't seem to let it go. I miss you. Every day. Mostly, though, I miss the man I knew you could be. The man I saw in glimpses and fragments. The man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. That other guy? The guy you were on the phone with me that last time? I can let him go. But I still want you. I hope my therapist is wrong because, if she's right, it would be the saddest thing. I'm sad for you. I'm sad for me. I'm sad for us. It shouldn't have ended this way.

Tomorrow will be 60 days NC. I miss him.

I am really struggling today. 53 days of NC, and I had been doing so well, or so I thought, but today I keep bursting into tears. I know it has everything to do with yesterday being my birthday and not hearing a word from you. It hit me much harder than I thought it would. I think because now I really feel like it's over? My therapist says she doesn't think you'll ever contact me again. It seems like there's so much left unsaid. It makes me so sad to think this is it. After 6 years, is this really it?

Today is 52 days NC and my birthday. I didn't hear from him, which was to be expected, but I still feel sad about it. On the way home tonight, there was a man walking a dog that looked exactly like his dog, and I felt a pang knowing I'll probably never see his dog again. After 6 years, I grew attached to things - to people - to pets - that will never be a part of my life again. Even though I didn't hear from him today, I know he thought of me - probably more than once - and somehow that makes my heart hurt a little less. I also know that, over time, the pain will be less and less until it doesn't exist anymore. So, like every day, today was progress. Tomorrow is another day.

39 days NC. Almost to 40. What's so weird is that, after my constant desperation with you during times of trouble, I have had no real desire to break NC this time. I bet neither of us ever thought that would happen.

Today is 35 days NC. Five weeks. Huh.

I believe in love, I believe in the ability to change, and I believe in you, and I don't plan on abandoning any of those beliefs anytime soon.

Today is 30 days NC. I don't think you'll ever fully comprehend just how much I loved you and how much I wanted us to work.

I miss you this morning, but I can't really put my finger on what exactly I miss.

Today is Day 24 of NC. I'm surprised at how easily I'm finding it not to contact him. I haven't even been tempted. I suppose that's what happens when you have nothing left to say.

I miss you. I feel stupid because I miss you. But I miss you anyway.

Apparently, Sundays are my weak days. I make it through every other day okay, but on Sundays, I just want to lie in bed and sleep and forget that you and I aren't together anymore. It has been eleven days. Eleven days since you said I was useless. Eleven days since I told you to leave. Eleven days, and I haven't heard a thing. On Sundays, I sit here and obsess. I wonder if you want to contact me or if you feel fine knowing you might never speak to me again. I wonder if you're also depressed on Sundays. I wonder if you miss me. If you feel bad for what you said. If you feel bad for how you treated me over the years. I wonder if you feel anything at all. I know I won't contact you because that would condone what you said to me. But if you contacted me, I would respond. I would communicate. Because I think that's how you should treat someone you love. But I'm not sure I'll ever hear from you again or see you again, and, on Sundays, that makes me sad.