Wounded...

You know that crappy saying people think helps you get over someone when your heart is wrenched out of your chest? "Time heals all wounds". What. Ever. Time doesn't heal anything. Not even a yeast infection.

I don't put much stock into religion, in that I understand that if I sit around and wait for life to change for me, it sure as shit is not going to change. I am the one who has to change it. I don't believe there is a god that swoops down into your life and fixes all your problems, just because you ask it to. You do.

I'm not for certain what I believe. But after seeing exnewguys post on his facebook about god working in his life.....it put a bad taste in my mouth. That is exactly why I am so turned off by organized religion. Hippocrites. He acted as though he was so godly, and then he lives a completely different way. I'm sure its a real christian thing to do, to solicit your ex for sex, right?

I prefer to govern myself, and be responsible for my own actions, and not count on any outside sources to make me a better person. I am better because I work at it.

Time doesn't heal your wounds. And neither does god. You do.

And I suppose you don't do it by pretending they aren't there for 5 months, or drinking them away, or asking someone else to handle them for you.

You do it by facing them. And feeling them. And telling yourself that he wasn't the love of your life, because how sad would it be to imagine a lifetime of never feeling that again.

And crying when you need to. And writing endless pages about how much you hurt in your journals (now this is always fun to look back on...like how many times can I write the same thing!) And remembering how he wanted to end a perfectly good relationship for no apparent reason.

I need to get rid of my material posessions that remind me of him. But I'm not there yet. I want to burn them at the stake while I dance around (not naked, I live in the city) and tell them to burn in hell. If only that would make me feel better. Well it might. A little.

I miss him. I miss so much about him, but more and more, I kinda miss me more, without missing him less. I honestly know the only person this hurts is me. I carried a painful divorce for 10 years while he got remarried.

I really miss sleep, and most of all I miss my peace of mind. And I miss my rationality 5 months ago when I thought it was a good idea to not think about dealing with the pain of this break up for more than a couple of weeks.