So tomorrow I’m going to Cambridge and I should be stoked, but I’m just not… I feel shitty, and I keep going to that dark place in my head where I ask a millions questions that I don’t want to know the answers to. Pretty sure if I know, I won’t like the answers I will get. I have no idea what he will even say on Monday that is so much different to anything else he has already said… and like I have said there are things I would rather not know…
Maybe it’s because I have learned from my past relationships it doesn’t really help anything. Knowing just makes your heart hurt and your mind wander just as far if you know or not. Honestly I kind of want to walk away from this entirely. I’m just going to have it rough when he starts seeing someone else.
I’m an idiot for doing this to myself… I know how it will feel… like tearing out my hair and crying in the shower. I can’t cry in my car with the music blaring because I don’t have a car anymore… I miss having a car. But I know my personality and that it takes me ages to move on because of my excellent coping skills (lol, I’m just kidding). And of course being bipolar doesn’t help any. By the end of this lovely bank holiday weekend I will be a small lake on the floor trying to be functional and failing miserably.
Hopefully Tuesday I will get up and pack as planned. As much as I would love to be graceful, I am not and because of my bipolar I will take this poorly, although there will be no tantrums or protests. I’m done fighting anyways.
Love is a feeling we all want, it will always be hard letting go of what you love and to have faith you’ll find someone better. I’m just so fucking picky, my type happens once every few thousand men, or less because I won’t be happy. My happiness is worth a lot and some guy needs to start a chemical fire inside me or I’m really going to be single at like 35… I will just be old and alone…