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I still think about you every day. It's been 3 months, at least. Sometimes it's something funny I see that I want to tell you about. Sometimes it's just missing your laugh. Or your smile. Your silly faces. Or how you pronounce things wrong. The other day I said by accident and then corrected myself. True to my word, I haven't immediately jumped into anyone's arms. I told you it would take me a while to get over you. That's proven true. I'm not about to accept anything less than the standard you set, and honestly i'm doubting anyone will exceed it. At least no one I know now. I still hurt from what you said to me on those last few days. You wanted to ' me' and you did a fairly good job. Not the content of your words, but the fact that someone who I thought loved me, who I fully trusted that he loved me, could say things with such . I understand you were hurt. But I have never understood how you could so easily lash out against me verbally. As much as I miss you, as much as I desperately wish things were simple and I could just you up and ask for a redo, I know it's not that easy. I know you don't want me back. I know that even if you did, my concerns that lead to our breakup are still valid. I just wish I hadn't lost faith in our ability to work them out. And I wish I had seen my side in those issues before it was too late. I know I fucked up, too. And I know at times I held you to an impossible standard. I do wish you had understood that I didn't do that because I didn't love you, or I thought you were shit. I did that because I knew you had it in you to be better (because you HAD been better). And I did that because, at least towards the end, I was terrified. I lived my whole life with this philosophy that people were a fun side dish. Work and career and my passions came first, people and relationships came second, if there was time. You were the first person who shook that perspective and made me realize that I would deeply prefer a life where you had come first, and career was just a career. If I were braver, if I had had more time to come to terms with this realization, I would have gladly taken a stupid boring job that paid the bills, and worked 9-5. and spend all the rest of my hours with you. Of course, that being said, I did always feel a bit second tier to your job, as well. I never understood that, and it hurt. Once you got depressed, you pulled away, and that terrified me. I realized why I didn't make people my focus: Jobs can make you , sure, but they can't break your heart. They can't leave you. They can't completely you. As soon as I felt that fear sneak in, I started pulling away, too. Switching back to career . Looking for the next best thing: Job, living situation.. partner. I'm sorry. I know that was shitty. I didn't realize that was what I was doing. I know you must have sensed that. I'm so, so sorry. But you have to understand how scary it was to be in love. Truely in love. You were the first instance of that. And to have your love seem to be pulling away from you. And have your love have someone they were closer to than they were to you. And to have your love be able to say hurtful things any time you got up the courage to talk about things that bothered you. I said it when we broke up, and although I desparately wish it weren't true and it was something we could have worked through; you and I do relationships very differently. I need trust and communication and someone who can fight without it being nasty. I don't know what you need. I never did. And that also made me , because I always felt inadiquate. But that's probably my own issues. All I know is I loved you so much it terrified me. And I still do. And I always will. And I wish you still did, too (if you ever did). I've gotten worse sense we last spoke. For a while, I was thriving. But the anxiety is taking over my life now. I don't know if it's an absense of you or just how the PTSD progressed. You used to tell of never leaving the house. I always had trouble relating to that, understanding that. I get it now. I'm at that point. When I'm not at work (which, I'm often not. Calling out is frequent) I hide in my bed. I sleep a lot. Sleeping is better than being awake. I've even considered self medicating with , but I mostly manage to avoid that temptation. I had to stop drinking. Well, mostly. You told me once that if your ex needed you, you would fucking run all the way to where she is to be with her. You also told me that my jealousy of her was unjustified. Well, I need you. I really, really do. But I know you wouldn't come running to me. Maybe I deserve that. Who knows. All I know is I can't stop crying and every time I go to sleep, even though I know it'll hurt like hell when I wake up, I try to make myself dream of you. I know you won't see this. I would guess that even if you did, you wouldn't care. And that hurts me even more. I just miss you. So much.
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