Friday, June 26, 2009

torn....

Okay so now... It's been nearly two weeks since I stopped sms'ing him. Where did I muster the strength to resist him? My pride.... Yes, the root of all my downfalls and ironically, my saving grace as well. Quite the contradiction but yes, it's true. I allowed him to wrap me round his little finger, played me like a puppet and he, the puppet master. And I don't know... I guess I let the idea of it all get the best of me. Boo hoo, epic fail. So yeah.... I'm kinda proud of myself for being strong enough to resist the tempation of sms'ing him. I haven't lasted this long, with him at least. But who am I kidding? I miss him. Whenever I reminisce about the things we've shared, the things we've gone through, I can't help but wonder, am I doing the right thing? Will my pride save me from all the hurt, the disappointment and self-destruction in this situation or will it cause me to lose something that could be my happiness? I can't help but entertain that thought. It crosses my mind at least twice a day. I could be throwing away (again) my chance for happiness. Or..... I am, once again, redeeming myself from wallowing into my own demise. The answer is yet to be seen. And like I always do, I am taking a stand for what I've done. I may regret it in the long run, but I stand by my decision. What I regret as of now, is how I let him toy me around. How I endured all of the times he made me miserable and the times he made me cry. The answer is right in front of me tho, and well... it's only a matter of time before the truth finally catches up to us. No matter how hard we try to deny it to ourselves, somehow, it comes in full circle. I let all of this happen. I brought this to myself. I over romanticized the thought that maybe he's the one for me. I tried to cover up his indiscretions, and overinflated his righteousness. I let that blind me. I miss him terribly. I miss the times when he was there. But life has to move on. He clearly has moved on with his, that's a sign for me to do so as well. What we shared was, in a way, special. It just wouldn't work out, I guess. It hurts when I think of it, hurts even more when I say it to myself. I feel like my heart's broken in a million pieces, and he's stomping on the remnants of my broken heart, further crushing it. But.... Oh well... As the egotistic Kanye West goes.... Whatever it is that don't kill me, can only make me stronger. I guess I should keep that as my mantra while I'm mending my broken heart.

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