aw sweetie, did u really think i’d cry over u??

So I have decided that I will not let my most recent ~heartbreak~ hurt me.  I wouldn’t even call it a heartbreak, because realistically it was just merely a moment in time, a mistake, a blunder in which I let my emotions get the best of me. I took some temporary boy and made him out to be my soulmate.I tricked myself into thinking this boy, who was just another small chapter in my otherwise 10,000+ page novel, was the love of my life. I sat down after this weekend to write about him, and I did. I wrote it all down, all the details, the ins and outs, every little thing, from the fucking color of his eyes, to the stupid smile on his stupid face he makes when he looks at me.  I even detailed the end, the break, the moment he turned from a risky yet exciting possibility to completely and utterly finite. As I finished up writing, and then reading what I wrote, to put it in the most basic terms, it really hurt. I started to wonder what went wrong, what I did, how I must have messed up or said something wrong, or did something wrong, all the classic insecure questions we ask ourselves. As I was looking at the page, the story I wrote about ~us~ I realized that wait, no, stop, you did nothing wrong. I admit when I am wrong, I admit my faults, but sometimes, just sometimes, it’s not my fault. This one is hard to swallow, because I feel like either we all really love to take blame for everything, or the opposite in which we take no blame ever (most of the boys I date). I sat there thinking about the story, thinking about him, and yes of course it hurt. It hurt to know that I once again let myself fall for someone who thought of me as temporary, who thought of me as disposable, who considered me and us just simply not worth it. But in that moment, when all I wanted to do was cry, though I couldn’t because prozac was racing through my veins,  I decided instead to not let this hurt me. I decided to not blame myself, to not even question what went wrong, to just let the story end. Everything ends, and maybe that’s just what this was, a story that doesn’t need a sequel, that simply ended as the writer put down the pen and walked away. I bet you all want to hear about my wild weekend of sex and heartbreak, but instead I decided that this boy, this nameless, and now faceless boy, doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve the story, he doesn’t deserve the sadness and the anger, the confusion or the heartbreak. He doesn’t even deserve me talking about him in this moment, but in order to explain myself I need to at least mention him. His story in my life doesn’t get a chapter, or a detailed ~blogpost~ , or a day filled of tears and ice cream, or even me venting to my mom on the phone. He doesn’t get any of it. He is a paper cut, not even a scratch, not a scar, but just a paper cut. Yeah of course I can’t entirely shut my emotions and feelings off, and I don’t want to. I never want to not feel the things that I am feeling. But in this moment, at this time I am taking control of them. A boy who I thought meant a lot to me, is not going to have the power to hurt me or derail me, or make me cry aimlessly wishing for him to love me. I will never ask for someone to love me. It’s either you do or you don’t, and since he doesn’t, there is no use in sitting around and wishing for something that is not possible. Instead of sitting and sulking and waiting for him to ~come around~ or give me an explanation or for me to not be sad anymore, I am choosing the ending. I am choosing to be okay and to not let this get to me. I am deciding that this boy is just another small character who walked in and out of my life and that is okay. Not everyone is going to be in my life forever, and I can’t be hung up on them once they leave. Instead of giving him a name, and a title, and a whole space in my heart, he gets absolutely nothing. Sometimes I wish in life we could have the whole “erase memories” thing from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. So I could completely erase and delete a memory, but realistically I can’t. Since I can’t do that, I will just decide that these memories that could possibly be painful will not hurt me anymore. We can’t force people to love us, to be in our lives, when they leave, if they stay, we just have to face that fact. Maybe this is not optimistic, but it’s realistic. I’d rather not have someone in my life who doesn’t want to be there, ya know?  The only person who can choose my happiness, who can choose my pain, is myself, not some boy who doesn’t care about me, just me. I want to be happy, I don’t want to sit around and let the memory of him hurt my heart, or run around my brain, when I am most definitely the last thing he is thinking about. I want to no longer let small, insignificant things destroy me, like some boy, or some job denial (HA). So instead of being sad, and letting one person out of millions and millions of people hurt me, I am deciding to let it go. There are far worse things in this life, then a boy not loving you back. As I sit here and write this I wonder if I can actually see this through, if I can actually be strong and not care, or if in two days I will be crying over this same dude… hopefully not the latter, but I’ll be sure to let you all know.