Round and around

I know it’s over. But is it really over? Is it easier to mourn the pain of a lost pain than it is to be bored and feel nothing? I sit around with nothing to do. I try to entertain myself. Do I need supply? Do I crave it? Do I need attention? Do I need love? Do I need validation? I remember the first time, I met him, he never gave me any of the above. Somehow I made it all in my head and every time I questioned myself, where is this going, what’s the point- the answer was so clear. Absolutely nowhere. There is no point. There never was.  I never had a good time with this one. He never idealized me. He never needed me. He never told me I’m beautiful. He tried to use me to get over his ex. without making any effort himself. He told me, he will never buy me a plane ticket and he told me if I visit, I have to get my own hotel. I wonder if he told me this to get rid of me. Probably didn’t expect that  I was this desperate for love. But I was, I was still in pain from the previous guy. I thought I healed but I latched on to him at first sight. I climbed inside his kangaroo pouch without any invitation whatsoever. I wanted to belong. I wanted him to love me like I should’ve been loved long time ago and now I’m just making up for lost time. I wonder what I saw in him because we never had a connection, we just liked each other physically. I never felt safe in his presence, if anything, I felt more scared. He never promised me the moon or the stars. If anything, he made me feel like an outsider. He made me feel like something was wrong with me for wanting to be with him. And yet when I detached, he would whine about it. It never made sense. The whole dynamic, never made any sense. I got swept away in the fantasy of psychic predictions and tarot. I let that decide my fate, instead of listening to myself and listening to my own needs. I don’t blame the cards, they’re not always accurate but I really really wanted to believe, this would work out. Even if magically. Somehow it would work out. Being lost was my drug of choice. Being afraid to separate from him and facing my own loneliness was a chance I wasn’t willing to take. I tried so hard, I knew he was bad for my well-being and yet I decided to stay and “fight for it” because I thought that’s what he was doing too. But he was just running a game.  A game of control and deception. As I look back now, knowing what I know, the craving of his attention is still there. I don’t know how to get rid of it. The craving of something concrete is easier to deal with than feeling my own emptiness because at least, I know what to focus on. At least, it feels more grounded. Painful but grounded. My own emptiness doesn’t give me anything to hold on to and with it, I might fly away.

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