October nights

I don’t know what is going on.  I can’t stop crying.  I miss me so much.  I miss myself when I used to be in love.  I can’t think of how I will be able to overcome this.  How do I forget everything?  How is it even possible to think that one day I was going to fall in love? It seems like a broken record and all I can think of is the past that we shared.

Have I tried to overcome? Have I tried to pray and keep myself from falling apart?  Yes and yes.  I have tried so many people and so many ways to forget this particular chapter of my life.  I can tell everyone else that I am strong and this is over, but there is no one I can tell this to where I will feel accepted and not ashamed for falling in this pit of darkness and despair.

Do I need to forgive myself for what happened?  Is it him or is it perhaps something deeper than that?  Could it be that I feel that I’m getting older and maybe I won’t find someone who would love me or I would love again?  Almost all conversation about my age revolves around the excuses of: “I’ve been young before, I don’t need to dress young anymore”, “At least, I was in love once”, “Who would look at this older woman when there are so many young girls out there?”.  Really? I might not be the youngest or the most fit woman, but I know I need to stop this badgering of myself and get over it!  Common sense and experience tells me that I will overcome, that I will forget.  I just need a date.  A specific date and how all this will end. 

Do I need to forget completely?

I’ve dated so many people in this past year, but I keep choosing the same type of individual.  Withdrawn.  Emotionally unavailable. As if somehow I feel like  I need to rescue them and if only they would chose me.  And then, when I find someone that has a lot of interest in me, I immediately find reasons why I can’t date that person.  Perhaps they are overly attentive. Overly possessive.  At the same rate that I want someone with me, I also want someone who will offer the level of emotional security where we don’t have to be on top of each other and I won’t feel imprisoned by all the affection.

Looking back, however, he was overly possessive and insecure and I still loved him.  Gosh, he exhibited all the red flags I should have stayed away from and I still loved him unconditionally.  I couldn’t have enough of everything of him that was drama and compulsive behaviorism. It was so addictive. 

I needed to write what was going on my mind.  Since I don’t physically have someone to tell my fears and hopes, at least writing them for someone else to read is somehow therapeutic.  Feeling judged is one of my greatest fears… and so is loneliness…


I’m still here

I’m here again.  October marks a year since I last kissed his lips. You’d think the other tongues I’ve tasted would have erased his taste and my mind would have placed his memories in the “Once Upon a Time” file.  That area in my brain where I place all my heartbreaks and disappointments.

I guess if I didn’t try so hard at being cool and collected.  At being mysterious and dark, maybe I wouldn’t be here alone typing away rambling thoughts just to fill in the time that’s leftover of this day. 

I could just go to sleep.  But perhaps I will spend my time just rolling around in bed. Hot. Sweaty. Restless. And I will think of him again while I close my eyes and reach for the drawer in my nightstand. Once again, ending my plight with an “I’m yours! I’m yours! I’ve always been yours!” How more pathetic can I get. I’ve already checked his FB account, searching for some trace of the life we once shared.

Was it all my fault?

It’s quite impossible to move on when everywhere I look, there’s something of him there.  Everywhere.  The door handle he helped me fix. the backyard where we danced. Every room in this house we’ve blessed.  Don’t forget about the living room or the kitchen.  My, we had good times in the kitchen! Even dishes I’ve cooked remind me of him. Washing dishes. The books I’lll read.  Every song on my iPod had something of his. 

I’ve never loved like this.  And while I’m afraid, I also wish to love again. Or have I lost my chance? Do I get to love only once?  I sure hope not.  But a year? A year and I still can’t shake off this love?

Melancholic nights await me this October…