Sometimes, it feels like you can’t outrun your past. Or maybe it’s just me that can’t let go. Of course, it doesn’t help when it seems that almost every outcome to almost every situation is saying the same thing; “you aren’t good enough.”
Yes, sometimes I’m melodramatic, but on a completely serious and depressing [for me] note, I really grew up believing I wasn’t good enough. Nothing I ever did, no matter how I looked, I just didn’t stand a chance against the impossibly high standards set before me.
Every relationship I’ve been in, every single one of them, I was left for someone else. Every. Time. It’s easy enough to brush it off the first half a dozen times, but after that? It gets harder. Really hard.
Then there was one person I didn’t think in a million years would ever chose someone over me and guess what? He did. And oh god it hurt. As much as it sucks to say, it still hurts. As much as I think I’m over it, something will happen and it crushes me all over again. Something little that reminds me of a moment I spent with him and my gut clenches and my heart rips and my eyes fill with tears. As ludicrous as it is to say, I worry that my heart will never be the same. It sickens me that the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with has hurt me like this, that my feelings for him were obviously not reciprocated in the same way because if he felt for me what I felt for him, he never could have chosen another girl. I know I made my mistakes in our relationship and I know I hurt him, but he always knew that he was it for me, that I never wanted to be with anyone else and I wanted to marry him. Because of the way things turned out, I have this sinking feeling that even if I didn’t make those mistakes and no matter what I did, it would have ended the same way. One way or another, he would have decided that I was old hat and would rather give the new and local model a try. And I hate him for that. I hate myself for loving him so much, for believing wholeheartedly that you could meet your soul mate at 22, and mostly, I hate myself for still being so hung up on him.
And I’m still so angry. I never got to yell and scream about it. I went down whimpering, “why?” when I should have punched his head in. He shattered me in a way I’ve never shattered anyone and I hate him for that.
I feel damaged. I feel like I’ve dealt with so much shit already that I just want a break. I keep my schedule full but that just leaves me burned out and irritable, but if I have too much free time I start to feel like this.
And I know the drill. “You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, you just need time, blah blah blah.” I get it. I know my life isn’t over, but that sure as hell doesn’t make me feel better now. I just wish things had been different. I wish I could have grown up feeling worthy with a higher self esteem, I wish I either never met him or we never broke up, I just wish it was different.
But hey. Hakuna Matata, right? =\