Tag Archives: regret

just a dull ache

Constant. Chronic. A dull, dull ache in my chest. In my heart. In my stomach.

So tired of crying over you.

So tired of loving you.

So tired of you loving me back but choosing a different life.

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There is not a soul in this world that would not be fine without me.

Tough pill to swallow.

I am no one’s person.

I would have thought I was, to several people, but everyone chooses a different life. One without me. Every single person.

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I’m honestly not sure how you can walk away and say you’d be upset if something happened to me. That doesn’t make sense. How would it actually affect you if you have chosen to walk away when I’m alive?

I don’t understand.

Every. Single. Person.

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A dull, dull ache that stabs sometimes. Constant. Chronic.

Overwhelming.

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God will never.

I remember when this blog was halfway professional, but now it seems to just be a place I can scream without judgment. Which is a good thing, but it also makes me feel like a failure.

“God will never send you another woman’s husband.”

I saw that quote a few weeks ago and it really struck me. I’m glad it’s stuck in my head. I said it out loud to a couple of people and they just looked at me like I was crazy. Like, duh. And of course it sounds logical and Captain Obvious and all that – it always does, until you’re in the situation. Then we try to backtrack and justify and say, “We’re meant to be, we’re perfect, he/she married the wrong person the first time, it was always supposed to be us.”

But that’s just not true. Even with all of the people I know who are still married to the men/women with whom they had the affair. I can’t believe that it’s right.

I do believe that if you knew yourself and trusted yourself that maybe you would have been single when you met your “true” love, but I also know that if you’d been single you probably wouldn’t have felt that euphoric sense of belonging/appreciation/relief that you felt with the new person. Kudos to you for making it last, though.

To the married man that went too far on Saturday:

I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for not trying harder to stop you. You will regret it forever, and I knew that. I told you that. I’m so sorry. I am broken, and now you are, too. You are good. You are STILL good. Do not let this corrode you from the inside; you are still a loving husband and father and teacher and person. Please, please, please be okay.

You didn’t have to walk me home.

I am fine on my own.

Always.

I am not stunning. You would have decided I’m not worth it, just like everyone does. So shiny, until I’m not.

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Lucy.

Sometimes when you’ve made so many wrong decisions that you’d rather kill yourself than live one more minute being unable to change the past.

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