I miss a lot of things in my past–my girlfriend, obviously, but moreover what the life I had with her represented. That life for me meant maturity–the idea that I was all grown up creating a life of my own. Since that relationship vanished close to a year ago, everything seemed to go down hill. I lost a sense of self when she walked out on me. I was so wrapped up in her being wrapped up into me, I could care less about anything, which is a good reason she left in the first place.
At times, I miss my anger. A really good friend told me today that I have a lot of “bitch” in me. He’s right. It seems, lately, all I do is whimper, whine and complain to anyone that will listen. I have never been this open about my personal life and that scares me. I wonder what people will think of me. Do they hate my actions as much as I do? Do they judge me as harshly as I judge myself? Better yet, do they critique my mistakes and fault me mercilessly about having a great relationship and ruining it? They probably do because I am doing all these things to myself daily and for the most part, I feel I deserve it. The walking cliche of having something I’ve waited for my entire life for, and then not knowing what to do with that once it was in my possession. Yes I miss being angry a lot. When I was angry, I wasn’t allowed to to feel so shameful. I wasn’t to feel regret or remorse. I was allowed to critique my thoughts and analyze my feelings. I wasn’t allowed to cry. Crying is what I hate most of all–bringing all of my dislikes and pain to the forefront; on display like I’m some freak of nature, to be poke and prodded. It hurts me to know that I’m hurting. It hurts me to know that when I’m hurting, I do stupid things like throw away the best gifts ever. I’m such a fool on so many levels and finally the universe is tired of my antics and is paying me back, thoroughly, enjoying my suffering.