Have a seat next to the broken hearted
Why am I drinking here in this bar, in the middle of a work day?
Because I long for the one who's heart I broke. Now that she has moved on to a new person, I don't know what to do with myself. It's not like I didn't see this coming. I don't even understand how I turned into such a monster with her. Most days, I didn't even recognize myself. But she's the first one I've ever loved and I know she'll never want to talk to me again after the shit I pulled.
You would think I would be over her. It's been over a year now. But I still dream about her. I still think about her. I write songs about her. Help me.
So pour a drink and sit down with me. Because I am the miserable son of a bitch who threw away the only woman I ever truly loved, because I was too afraid to be vulnerable with her.
Write a reply
~inquiry wrote (thread):
Don't assume someone understands - and knows what to do with - vulnerability just because they don't have a penis?
~tetris wrote (thread):
Hang in there buddy, problems don't just appear out of nowhere and as empty as this statement might sound, I find it's often true:
sometimes it was just never meant to be.
I went through a similar thing with my first, where I instigated the break up and mourned it for about the same time.
I realised over time though that I wasn't actually sad over her, I was sad over the ideal of what she was: a cute, bubbly, funny, sociable, dependable partner who I could plan a future with.
But the ideal hides the reality: she was mean, often without meaning to, but still quite mean. She derided people she had never met, her politics were borderline fascist, she was controlling and her large ego was born out of a deep insecurity that she broadcast everywhere she went.
Where I'm going with this rant: focus on the negatives. She was likely not as perfect as you feel she was, and maybe you being a monster to her was in response to her being one to you (not to defend your actions of which I know nothing)