Time to Love Myself

Well, I just returned last night from a trip to California to visit the boy. I'm a jerk. I shouldn't have gone. I don't know why I keep putting myself through this garbage. Everytime I see him, I end up feeling like an obsessed lunatic.

I wrote the following while drunk in a club in San Francisco, after I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away:

I feel badly because he makes me feel badly. Not because I feel that way independently. I feel inadequate. He never validates me. I try so hard, I make myself sick. Everyone but me sees the truth. He doesn't care.

Pretty pathetic, eh? I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away. He later explained that he needed some space.

Space? And I'm surprised? F-ing noncommittal asshole, that's what he is.

I am a good person. With a good heart. I am worth more than this. I deserve a good man. Someone who will look at me and run his fingers through my hair because he wants to touch me. Someone who will make sacrifices and plans. Someone who isn't him.

He was my person at one time, but I guess maybe I've changed. I can't do this anymore. It's been too long and too hard. I'm tired of hurting. Tired of being alone when I feel like my other half is out there, digging in the fucking dirt somewhere instead of sleeping next to me.

Fuck him.