I really should stop reading romance novels. I give Wifey shit for watching movies like "The Notebook" and sobbing into her cheerios, but then I go home and read these novels fully of happy endings and snot all over myself.
This last one hit me hard. I almost didn't finish it because there were too many (imagined, I'm sure) parallels and I didn't think I could handle reading the happy ending part I knew was coming because I just don't believe that I'm going to have one this time.
I don't know why it still hurts. I mean, I knew this was going to take awhile. I knew. And I'm not trying to hurry the process or find replacements or any of the other things that I have tried in the past that didn't work. I just thought maybe it would hurt a bit less by now.
I waffle. Between thinking this is the best choice, with all the logic that I can put behind it, and hoping he's just as miserable as I am and decide he wants to fit me into his life. Except I think I know him better than that. I would like to know when I will stop hoping. How long? I keep trying to count my losses and fold but I feel like if I just hang in there, I might have a winning hand. Which is kind of the story of the relationship, and I am a TERRIBLE poker player. I have not contacted, although I have been tempted. I'm still confused.
The books, they don't help this although I thought I was ok to start reading them again. (I often want to read just for the entertainment value. like eating candy just because it tastes good). I got through the first one just fine. Ai.
Stop wallowing. Stop sniffling. Go put on your bathing suit and return to the party. Put on a happy face. Fake it till I make it.
goodness knows, I'm good at that.