I know. I am an idiot. I should never have bought anything that Kev told me. I should never have moved in with him. I should never have stayed. I feel like a total and complete fool. I am so very lucky that he had the balls (or maybe no balls) to cut things off when he did. I don't even really know how much I loved him. I may have just loved his persona and the idea that he could possibly find me to be the love of his life. But it is all over which is so good. I no longer have to help him walk or have him tell me to fuck off or make fun of me for not putting the toilet paper on the roll the correct way. I've been looking back at my blogs and I wanted to be happy, but I was not. In fact, almost every weekend I would dread the point where he would be super drunk and I would feel responsible. I don't know if he ever touched me when he was sober. His kisses were few and far between. His love was never really love. He didn't really have any goals or desires. He never really showed himself to most people or even to me most of the time.

I miss him. I miss his hugs and his darlings and the way he would compliment me and do my laundry and hold me at night. But last night I slept damn good.

I am afraid that I will not meet someone again. I am afraid that I will not be held like that or kissed like that or share dreams and music like that. But it's just fear, right? If I am open to it, it will come. There are other people out there who will appreciate me more and really love me. There have to be. And this time, I won't be so ignorant and easy with my heart. This time I will be smart. I will be smarter than smart. It's not that I am going to hold back and shut myself off.... that would be a sign of being broken, that would be Kevin. I am going to continue to put myself out there, but this time I will be way fucking smarter about it.

I want to tell Kevin "fuck you" but I can't. As much of a shit as he is, I still have this crazy desire to not destroy what we had or any relationship that we could have. Is that entirely insane? I think so. I know it is. But I can't help myself from feeling endeared to him and his sadness. I cannot seem to let go of this desire to call him or text him and ask him why. I know, right? It's ridiculous. Nothing good will come of me talking to him. Nothing. He made up his mind. And even if he didn't, I shouldn't want to be there anyway. But a part of me does. I cannot wait until that dies, because for now I feel achy and so very sad. I am so tired of feeling sad. I hate this pathetic person that I become. I feel like everyone sees it when they look at me. I cannot stand it.

I don't want to cry for him. I don't want to hope that he will reach out to me. I hate these rough nights with the train humming by and the loneliness of this basement seeping in.