Who would’ve thought that it would come to this? 
Where even going out to a soccer game is just…hurtful.
Emotionally hurtful.

I want to give him space.
I don’t want to come off as “clingy”.
But I still yearn for his touch.
I still long for him…
Still want him to want me.

Childish, isn’t it?

Spacing out during the ride there, the entire game, the ride home…
waiting, longing, begging him in my mind to grab my hand and hold it close to his heart… like he used to when we were just getting used to dating.
Now the fantasy is foreign.
Waiting, longing, begging him in my mind to put his arm around me.
Waiting, longing, begging him in my mind to look at me and smile, with that beautiful, adorable sparkle in his eye. 

It shouldn’t be like this.
I shouldn’t have to pray for him to touch me once when we’re out.
I shouldn’t have to hold his hand for a moment, feeling discontent because it’s the only thing he really does anymore without complaining.

I want the love in stories and books and tales…
I want him to yearn for me, long for my touch, long for everything I long for in him…
But it’s not going to happen.
The sooner I face up to that… the better.

I’m tired of all the arguing.
I’m tired…
Just tired… 

Meanwhile:
 Depression: “He hates being seen with you.”
Anxiety: “He’s pissed/upset. You’ve done something wrong.”
Trichotillomania: “Pull me. You’ll feel better. Please… Let me help you.”
Self-hate: “Why the fuck does he even put up with you? You’re ugly. You’re stupid. You’re loud. You embarrass him. No wonder he can’t stand being seen with you. Look at what your wearing. Listen to the ground cry when you walk, fatass. Do you honestly believe that when he was little, you were what he imagined as his first girlfriend? I think not. Some young, hot, confident, drop-dead gorgeous woman, with a skinny waist and full, long blonde hair. That sounds like what he likes. You’re a last-resort. Look at how fucked up you are. How fucked up your life is. How fucked up your family is. Do you think you’re truly going to make him happy? Do you think he’s going to be in love with his life ten years from now? Remember the last boy who “fell for you”? Oh, he fell alright. Into the arms of a pretty, skinny girl. Into her home. Into her bed. Into the heart of her family and friends. I can’t wait to watch this one do the same. Don’t worry. He’ll find someone better. Keep holding on. You’ll learn your lesson eventually. 

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