August 19, 2016

worth

label: still here — CV @ 1:55 AM

I am hurt. I am hurt because He is acting like I didn’t matter. Like there was no worth to me. He moved on so quickly that I didn’t even manage to get out of the way (my stuff is still at His place …).

It hurts like hell, because I gave everything I had to this relationship. I feel dismissed, betrayed, offended. He didn’t even need a moment to pause and reflect, before His really young new girlfriend moved in (into my daughter’s life as well). And now I am marked as the crazy one, again, just because I don’t like it and can’t cope with it so fast.

I’ve been trying to cope with it all this year, but I am failing miserably. It is easy to call it jelousy – it probably is in some ways. The truth is: I don’t mind that He found a new love, but I mind how He never took any time to grieve us. That makes me cry! It shows so clearly the lack of feelings, that I can’t even lie to myself about it. I mind that now He does all the things He neglected to me. It hurts to get the message of being a useless, worthless, unwanted, failure. I mind that He never gave me a chance to be the “best me” again, like I was in the beginning (ignorance is bliss!). And I mind all the lies He told and promises He broke.

I know that He doesn’t do it to hurt me. His life revolves around Him and His ego. I am just a casulty in His quest for enjoyment. But all that doesn’t help at all, because I am the one who’s hurting and His is the one who’s happy. I am the one grieving and He couldn’t care less. During some very dark moments I have even thought that He doesn’t deserve happiness; and then I remeber that everybody, including me and Him, deserves happiness, but I wouldn’t mind seeing at least some remorse over the things He has done.

Feeling so down. For the last few years I have not mattered to anyone except Ayra (the way children need us to feed them and for other stuff). It is hard to understand me. People in my life are tired of hearing a word about Him any more. “Get over it! You don’t want Him back! Over half a year has passed!” etc, etc. No one seems to understand, what I am trying to say, when I tell that it hurts, why it hurts. So I have tried to stop speaking, but that doesn’t help either. All I would need is just someone to understand me and make me feel like I am worth something, that I matter, that it matters if I live or die. I know it matters to Ayra. I have cried countless night-hours kneeling in front of her bed, holding her tiny hand in mine, to have a grip on reality.

To arutu I gave my freedom and my career. To Him I gave my sanity. And now I am broken.

1 impression

  1. I understand you.

    Impressed by Sad me — August 23, 2016 @ 8:03 PM


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