So, coming back to my old apartment and former city for the weekend has been the opposite of fun. Very much like being dumped all over again, only this time being shot in the head four times afterward. Needless to say, finding out the news and the truth about my relationship was a bit of a blow. Opened up all the wounds. I cried, again. Felt so many of the same feelings. To know that I spent months oblivious to what was really happening broke my heart all over again.
Every memory - destroyed. How can I hold onto them when I know that he was betraying me the entire time?
I know her. We met months ago. I liked her. She was funny. We became Facebook friends. The night we met, she could look me in the eye, all the while fucking the person I loved.
I had no clue.
Makes me feel absolutely foolish.
I'm the fool. They got away with it.
So here's what I have to say: um, fuck you. Both of them. All of them. This city. The memories. The time and life I wasted on him.
I felt good that he and I left our past on good terms. I didn't want to hate him, and now I have to. Who is he? How the hell did he get away with it?
What a weekend. Seriously.
I'm counting down the hours until I can go back to my attic, and my life, and my kitties, and the new relationship that's taking its sweet time and taking all the right steps in the right direction.
I get to be happy in the end. Without him. Or the memories. And better for it.