I know this is short and maybe some day I will add to it, but I like how it ends so currently, I'm leaving it as is.
Not Smoking
If he wanted me, he would come get me. Because that's what men do, they pursue what they want. If he doesn't pursue you then he's just not that into you. Right?
That's the way it works, right?
I have almost convinced myself that that's true, that we (Soul and I) aren't dating, because he isn't interested and that if I would just get over it and give up, it would be so much easier. Like ripping a band aid off. A sharp pain than it's over.
I've almost convinced myself that that's the best course of action for the both of us. Mooning over him like a brainless bimbo doesn't help anyone. It distracts me and puts a burden on Soul that he isn't even aware is there.
I have no right to be hurt or jealous or even in love. Soul has made no promises to me of a romantic nature and so I have no right to hold him accountable for those feelings.
I have almost convinced myself that me crying myself to sleep at night, biting my hand to keep from making too much noise, is a result of overwhelming emotions I have no right to have, that I'm being silly. Worse things have happened and this won't be the end of the world, I'll get through this and Soul and I will be the better for it.
I have almost convinced myself.
But almost isn't always and I'm not smoking any cigars. No dice.
Really I'm just sick of it.
Sick of feeling dumb and silly. Sick of feeling worthless and unnecessary. Sick of feeling any self-confidence leaking out of every pore when I see him talk to another woman. She's obviously better looking than me, her boobs are bigger, her smile is wider, more geniune, less serious, tainted by responsibility and pessimism derived from seeing the worst humanity and reality had to offer. She probably doesn't have a "what's-her-name"-chop, she would do his laundry and...
She is feminine, I am not.
She is carefree and unburdened, I am not.
She is pretty and delicate, I am not.
I am damaged goods, she is not.
I let him get hurt, she hasn't.
I let him down.
I have almost convinced myself that I don't care and that I can be happy for him either way and that I'll get over this eventually.
Still not smoking.
