Tim

The majority of this year has been utterly wasted on loving someone who apparantly refuses to love me back. When we broke up in April, I literaly thought I was going to die. My body physically ached. I loved him so much...

I spent the majority of the summer praying and begging God to bring him back to me. I couldn't stand the thought of being with someone else. My life was in shambles. I was miserable without him.

I don't know how or why, but slowly I started to miss him a little less. Little by little, he wasn't on my mind as much as he use to be. The memories of us were starting to fade. I guess time does heal all wounds.

Then the inevitable happened. He came back. I didn't know what to think at first. I was so apprehensive to let him back into my life. I didn't tell my friends that we were dating again. I kept it to myself for a while. I was afraid that he would leave and that I would have to pick up the pieces of my stupid broken heart.
I believed him when he said that he missed me so of course I let my guard down and got sucked into his plans for the future. I wanted to believe that he was sincere. I really wanted to believe that all the hesitation I felt was because I was scared and paranoid. It turns out that I was rightfully cautious. I should have listened to my intuition.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he left again. I saw it coming. He started to ignore my calls. He was short when replying to texts. The signs were all there. I'm not stupid. I can read between the lines. At least this time didn't hurt as much as the first. I cried a little but mostly felt nothing after it was all said and done. I was numb.

I missed him this week because of the Thanksgiving holiday. I wish I had someone to share it with. I wish he was still around. I guess some wishes don't come true. At least apparently for me they don't.