All Too Well

I own everything that has happened to me. I will tell my stories. If people wanted me to write warmly about them, they should've behaved better.

I think sometimes I sit down and I try to figure out what I'm feeling, but it's all so complicated. There is just such a mess of feelings of going on. I'm angry. I'm hurt. And when I try to put all the pieces together, it doesn't make sense anymore. Trying to figure out the way I feel right now just doesn't work. Sometimes I think what I need to do is sit down and write about what happened, from the beginning all the way to the end. And maybe not try to sugar coat it or make it make any sense. I think I need to stop being afraid of how it's going to make me seem, like I might come off desperate or clingy. I think even though he broke me, I'm a little reserved about telling the truth about him because I did love him. But there's so much more to the story than anyone really knows. If I just tell the story of what happened, maybe I could find some closure or some clarity. In the beginning there was so much happiness and so much love. And then it all just went away. What happens to that love, where is it suppose to go? Even though I've moved on and I'm in a better place, sometimes I think I need to get it all out. It might help me let it all go. It might be the only way to save myself. Because right now, I remember it all too well.

But I can't go down that road tonight. It's going to take more out of me than I'm willing to let go of. It's going to take time and I don't know if I'm willing to give him another damn second of my life.