Dwelling

I was playing my flute a moment ago - going through some pieces that might be good for next Sunday. My embrouchure was hurting (I haven't played for a month and a half), so I took a break. And started dwelling.

This week has been hard and hurtful and full of tears. I thought I was getting better as it went on. That I was toughening up and letting go. But I had a major breakdown last night. And it feels as if I'm back at the drawing board.

I need to let him go, but I don't want to. I've got too much hope and faith in us. I don't want it to end just yet.

I can't talk to anyone about it, though. I feel like a nuisance when I do. My roommate says if I love him I need to love him enough to let him go. My friend tells me not to talk to him and that time will heal me. My dad says it takes two to make a relationship. He said on Monday that he wasn't willing to put in the time.

I need to let him go.

...but I don't want to.

We'll be friends. I don't doubt that. We'd be great friends. I'm just not there yet. I don't want to be friends right now. I want to be us.

And I'm scared that he doesn't even care. Doesn't think much of it. When he said he thinks of me as a friend that means he's over it all, right? ...no. But I feel like a cat left out in the rain. Soaked, cold, and confused. Why won't you talk to me? Why can't this be okay? Why? What did I do?

I have a million ideas of what I did to push him away. And they're things I'm willing to work on. I would better myself if it meant we could be us again.

But we won't be us again, will we? ...no. I don't think so.

No matter how hard I hope, pray, and wish for him to come back he probably won't.

I need to let him go.
Kt