Stupid Chocolate and Stupid Wine. 

It happens a lot lately. I’m overcome with this overwhelming pressure in my chest. I wonder if my brain will ever function without considering him into every possible outcome. It’s almost pathetic, but it’s like my brain hasn’t corresponded with my heart, like it doesn’t know there’s a gaping hole taking up residence there now.
I miss him so much my body shakes with anger. Why is this disappearance different from the others? Why didn’t he keep calling? Why did he give up on us? Nine years!! Nine freaking years, and there’s nothing left. Just a void of what could have been. 
It’s so difficult to wake up some days. Sometimes I still reach out for him. Want to crawl over to him and kiss him awake. Want to trace the structure of his chin, how sharp and prominent it is. I wish he’d wake me up by wrapping his arm around my waist, hugging me to his chest. I wish I could feel his eyes on me as I walk across the room, making me feel beautiful even with messy hair and sleepy eyes. 
All I have are memories. They stopped keeping me warm a long time ago. I fear the more I remember them, the less important they will be the next time. But what if I’m stuck remembering? What if I cannot move on—in the most literal sense? What if I’m always going to be in love with him? He’ll be off seeing the world he promised to show me every corner of and I’ll be stuck here, waiting for him to come back to my part of the globe.  
I dreamt last night I was sharing my life with someone. The dream guy was just a shadow, but he showed me all the affection one needs or wants in a relationship. Maybe that’s why I’m stuck in this place right now. Missing someone I know won’t give me that. 
Ugh. I don’t know why I bother with this blog. No one cares about my loveless dramatic life. I’m just another girl on the internet pining for a lost love, sipping wine, and eating Easter chocolate. I’m a stereotype. 
I hate myself.


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