There’s just so many questions and so many things left unresolved. And it’s like waiting for Christmas to come, but it’s months late. It’s like waiting for summer to come with its rays of sunlight to brighten up the sky, but all I feel and see is winter surrounding me.

I’m very good at hiding things away and burying them in graves so I don’t have to FEEL — it’s not something I want to feel. I mean I’ve already realized the impending conclusion, but it is an entirely different to feel the weight of them. The heaviness of it is painful consuming. Emotions I didn’t want to open up are like hidden rivers crashing against rock, attempting to break through the wall to get out into the open.

I’d rather not know how deep I can feel, because it can also determine the depth of pain I feel. I don’t want to admit certain things… I don’t even want to let it all out, because of what it means. Just the thought of it makes me want to cry randomly.

It’s like wound (even if infected) scabbed over. And maybe I was closing myself off. Maybe I thought it was better, but I hate feeling this out of control. I don’t like knowing there is nothing I can do about it. Sure, I can screw all the male population if I really wanted, but what would that truly accomplish? The fact still remains they aren’t him and they never will be. And the idea of getting everything out of your system doesn’t work out this way at least.

I might be strong, but I’m not that strong. Not like that – not like this. I don’t want the truth to come out, because what would that truly accomplish? That I can’t let it go? That this really has f*cked me up pretty badly? That I can’t stop thinking of him? That sometimes I really wish I never met him, because then maybe life would be a little more easier to endure?

What does it accomplish to confess it’s been like WHAT — HOW LONG and I CAN’T GET OVER THIS!?! I can’t bounce back? I didn’t like it when I figured out before that my emotions weighed heavily upon his presence? I hated that fact — it made me hate myself to be quite honest. That you could care for someone so deeply that your happiness can be affected like that… it’s obsessive, crazy obsessive. I mean who would honestly find that aspect of someone at all attractive?

I mean to be shaken to the core? That nothing will be the same again? Is it supposed to be like this? Feel like this? Hurt this badly. Sometimes, I just want to cry, scream, punch something — and it scares me that this affects me so much. It’s not fair. Because it’s never been like this. Not even with my ex… and AT LEAST I TOUCHED HIM AND WAS WITH HIM! This — this is just doesn’t make sense. It never makes or made sense.

How can someone love someone so damn much that it completely SHATTERS everything — like how you used to see things. The things you used to care about, the things you thought you wanted and needed aren’t at all what you want now. It’s just not fair. I’ve always been independent person — I never needed anyone or anything else but myself. And now, I’m just STUCK.

And it hurts because you know that he’s probably getting along just fine without you. You probably didn’t make a dent in his life… you don’t haunt him. And that what hurts you even more, scares you, haunts you. You’ve given so much of yourself to something, to someone who might’ve not ever given you a care in the world. And what makes it even worse is the fact it doesn’t even matter if he did or didn’t — you’re still where you are.

And the last thing you ever wanted to admit to yourself is that you need him, need him more than physical purposes — purposes that transcend the physical limits that is primarily related to emotional purposes. I said a long time ago: I’d only give myself and give my all to someone who can shake me deep down inside and requires the giving of everything — mind, body, and soul — all or nothing.

I just didn’t think it would happen. I didn’t think it was real to find something that deep, feel that deep and it’s a pain that transcends physical hurt. It’s much worse — so much worse. And I’ll never truly recover. How do you go on after something like? Can you? Can you really pretend to fall in love with someone else? Enjoy sexual encounters, pretend its fulfilling and satisfying? Because I know after it all, it’ll just feel f*cking empty. And it’s not worth feeling that sickened with yourself. I know that’s how it would be. I think I lost all appetite for that sort of physical contact — it’s only temporary relief.

What’s worse about loving someone like this — is that you really do have this strange NEED… thirst — that can’t ever be satisfied truly by anyone or anything else. Might as well admit it myself here and now: I need him. And it just sucks. Just so damn frustrating.

It just doesn’t makes sense — I don’t make sense anymore.