Himyp

It's been a while.

School's over now, I just have to focus a bit on the upcoming finals, but eh, no big deal. I haven't yet come around the idea of leaving some things behind. Hell, how could I? I'm still like, 2 months away from knowing the final decision. I could even end up not leaving the country, for all I know. Still, I don't really want to think about the people I have to say goodbye to. Because I know all too much that for most of them, if not all
It'll likely be farewell.
And I have a tough time coming to grips with that reality.
Actually, refusing to think about things too much, trying to delude myself into thinking things won't change, it's classic me I guess, right?
I may have taken giant steps toward my future, toward life even this past year. It was the most awesome, entertaining, important, emotionally exhausting year in my life yet. Gosh, I've even managed to figure out part of what I want my life to be over the very next years. Still deep down, when it comes to translating all the work, the concepts, into actual actions; when it is time for me to make choices, I am still the same worthless coward. Because I was so used of letting life make decisions for me before March 13th, 2013.

You know what Emma? I think these past few days, I may have relapsed. It's bigger, it's more violent, a bit more painful than it usually is. I don't think it is gonna affect my decisions, nor trouble my course of actions nevertheless.
Well, who am I kidding?
It has always been.

Some say there is just one kindred soul for you. You miss your shot with this soul mate, then you're done.
I'm clinging to the idea that I was unlucky to have the luck to meet her at first try. I got to make all kind of silly mistakes, I learned the hard way, so that I would never, ever, do wrong again.
Well, that's for sure it seems
Since I won't be given another shot.

This whole "you're my world" state of mind I built up during our time together has taken quite a toll. It still has consequences, it still hurts. In fact it still hurts pretty bad. I have to cope knowing I am sort of an oversensitive human being, and there's no way to cure that disease. I weep fewer tears, I don't have fewer scars.

When we first met, I knew something was off. I don't say that in retrospect, I'm not trying to relate on hindsight; but at this very moment, when I first saw you leaning towards me with what was, I have to at least acknowledge that, a pretty damn awesome smile; I swear something struck me deep down. It was no cupid's chokehold or whatever. I felt ill-at-ease, a huge chill traveling through my body. I didn't get butterflies in my stomach, it was much more like a voice in my head; and it may seem uncanny - and call that what you want; but I like to name it intuition - but it just felt like the voice was saying "she's gonna screw you". And I didn't listen. And I highly regret it now.

Truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared to be deprived from what I think I deserve. I want to go, because something inside me can't help thinking that going will mean success. And staying will make my whole life a failure.
And I'm freaking out, I'm freaking out to just walk around waiting for an answer that may not even come within the next weeks. And I have nothing to pray to. I'm just in a different place than I was a year back, but still, isn't it the same story? Trying to cling to something without even knowing if it's real? Wasn't that even the truth to our whole story, from the start, Emma?

We built a house of cards. And I got to collect the cards all by myself when you screwed this up. I had to clean the mayhem alone. It made a mess of me you know?
You made a mess of me, and it will never, ever, be undone
You bitch.

Not all stories leave good memories. I just have a bitter taste on my tongue. I just have years wasted behind me, years I won't ever get back. I had my heart wiped out, and it is not fixable; it might never be.
I got served, for I did wrong. But even if I was a crappy boyfriend, all I did was always out of love. True, real love. Just to be thrown away like an old mope. No memory of us is strong enough to land a smile on my face. And every day, instead of forgiving and trying to get closure; I grow angrier, I grow more hateful about you. I went through the common steps of break-ups, and then got lost. And now I'm just stuck into a phase of hatred that doesn't seem to have a ceiling. It's been more than a year, for fuck's sake; why can't I move on with my life already? Why didn't you, that night, deem our story worth a bit more than a fucking and ludicrous phone call. I might not have deserved much, but still, you owed me much more than common courtesy.
And for that, I hate both of us.

Because I wish that night had not been the only time in my life I would not listen to my instincts and instead go with the heart. Because poor dude died in the process. Because you weren't like the others, that's right.
But you were to become much worse.

And that's the story of how I met you, period.

That's true, some stories don't deserve a happy ending, or they just don't get it.
I guess that was the case for us.
But as far as I'm concerned

This ending fucking sucks