There are moments when I think I'm better.
But then I get a phone call, and I crash to the ground all over again. It was back to the bathroom floor tonight, and back there all over again, after a great weekend. But one small text message and I am up, walking shaky to the bathroom to be sick over a love that can't ever, ever be mine.
I am making such good strides in my life. I am moving--no idea where, at this point, but I will whenever I make my mind up to accept one of these offers. (A quick update on that is that I am going through the formal process with both of them, and continuing to feel out each opportunity to decide what is going to be best for me.)
I lost weight. I am building new relationships, investing in the ones I have, and am doing things to make myself better. I am praying (which turns into more like pleading) and I am reading and I am thinking and I am writing. And I am getting better.
But then, I come to the ground and remember that I'm an absolute fool in love with a fool who is in love with someone else. And that someone is not me, and it won't be. The toll this is taking on my self-esteem is probably a little bit disturbing. I will look at myself in the mirror and only see the person who wasn't picked. 'Never loved you, never loved you' becomes a mantra to be repeated at my own reflection and I'm constantly reminding myself what an idiot I am to be having these feelings and to have harbored them for so long. To have, frankly, ALLOWED them to go on for so long by creating proximity and forcing a friendship that I am really going to miss.
I am sitting here with a cold washcloth on my own head, after picking myself up off the floor. I am really, really tired of doing that. I want someone else to take over--to make me a washcloth, to fix me a ginger ale, to remind me that my life may eventually be worth something.
Life doesn't make any sense to me at all sometimes, and I'm getting so tired of falling into this hole again and again.
I wonder sometimes if anyone will ever help me up.