Sometimes I find myself thinking that some day you'll just show up where ever I am, tell me I'm the one and you're sorry, we hug and kiss and cry and then we live happily ever after. There are variations, but of course that's what it always comes down to. I think about this and my head hurts, my stomach flips, I think I'm going to vomit and cry. I realize that this is just a fantasy and you're not coming. You'll never come for me.
I feel like a complete idiot.
I'm trying to get to the point where I'm not the way I was when we dated so many years ago - I'm not that lovesick little girl anymore, and I can't keep holding on to these ridiculous romantic notions. For the most part, I don't. I am different. I am understanding of what happened, why it happened, and I know that there is no point in being mad at you or crying about it. I even recognize that getting drunk will not fix my situation. Yet I find myself thinking that we've come together so many times so there MUST be something to it - there must be something to us.
But our luck has run out. We're never going to be together again. There is no "some day." You'll never come here. I'll never be swept off my feet. You're not going to find me alone on the Clemente bridge watching boats go by with wind in my hair and tell me you want to be with me forever. That's some shit from a romantic comedy that probably made me cry when I was PMSing at 14 years old. We verged on a cute little romcom happy-ending love story, but you couldn't handle it, and we're never going to get that back.
This is over.
That makes me sick to my stomach.
I'll probably never see you again.
That scares me and makes me sad and is relieving all at once.
This is over.
This is over.
This is really, really over.
Just.. get the hell out of my head.
