What I've decided
Tuesday, Mar. 05, 2002 18:32

I don't believe a single word of it.

I desperately need to stop reading Linda's blog. Desperately. Or maybe I need to write all kinds of shit about her on this thing and get her to hate me. Then I would no longer have a choice about any of that. But that would be too easy. And I don't want to hate her, or for her to hate me. I don't want to have hard feelings. I don't have hard feelings right now, not yet. Right now I just realize the importance of things...of the things that i need for myself. I realize the importance of keeping myself healthy.

I can't believe her. Simply put. I've been through way too much with her. I've been through way too much where I assumed that I was the one that wasn't being lied to. I've been through all of these situations where I thought that I was the one that wasn't being played with. And I don't know why I ever thought that. And there's nothing she can do to convince me anymore. It's been too long...and too little.

She tells me I'm beautiful. She does not make me feel beautiful. She makes me feel like I'm never going to be enough. I am not enough to entertain her. I'm not enough because I'm a girl, because I'm not an Auburn boy or a Jeff or her very first friend. Even looking back, to the way things were, when I served a purpose. I did just that. I served a purpose. There was nothing specific to me about any of it. Just my gender. It's not some ability that I possess. Just my gender. And it certainly had nothing to do with my desirability. I never got anything out of it. Just some hard feelings, some satisfaction, some attention.

And then, in addition to not feeling beautiful, I start to feel worse than that. I start to feel like a bad person. A bad person! When I've done virtually nothing wrong. The only sins I've committed are against myself. I refuse to believe that the rest is my fault.

I am a firm believer that Linda does everything she does intentionally. I am a firm believer that much of this was planned out. I am a firm believer that she is not to be trusted. Not by me...not anymore.

So, I guess reading this, it sounds like I do have hard feelings. Maybe I do. I am not convinced that I don't, after reading this over. I'm still pretty hurt. It's tough. It is really tough to come to the realization that something you love this much isn't good for you. It's not really fair. It's not fair. And I was thinking about how it could be possible for me to have written so many wonderful things about her recently, including the letter I gave her for Christmas. But all of those are memories. And a relationship can't be based on memories. It doesn't, and can't work that way. So I just have to accept that things are differnt now. Maybe she still feels the things that I once believed that she felt. But whether or not she feels them isn't really the issue. Whatever was there in the past that made us the single entity is long gone now. I'm in love with the past. I'm in love with this feeling that I think I still have...with this feeling that I think she has. When in reality, it goes back to the beginning of this entry.

Someone that can write things so beautiful that I cry real, big, soaking tears every time but that makes me feel so horrible about myself that the same thing happens isn't believable. It's not real. It's not healthy. And no matter how much I love Linda, or how often I need her. I can't anymore. I deserve better than this in a relationship.

And I wish it would make a difference. But I know it won't make one, at least visibly. And I guess I can't expect that, considering my situation.

I also know that she will not be pleased that I have written an entry about this. But it's my diary. It's my words, and I think I have censored myself enough. Or perhaps I will get lucky and she won't even read it. It's sometimes fun to think in terms of the ideal. It's not that these are things that I don't want her to hear. If she asks me what's going on, I will tell her. But I've already given so much...an explanation isn't something I feel I still owe her.