Midnight Ramblings & The tension between my brows

Hi. It’s me tonight, coming here because I have no where else to go to. (Or whine. Or talk to.) To be honest, I hate it that I only have things to write about my crappy heart. I am far more capable than that but it seems to be the only thing that inspires me to write now. BAH.

Truthfully, I am feeling tension between my brows and at my temples tonight. Because I know you’re with her (I say I do but truly I don’t. Paranoia at work.). Her who came “all the way” here “only to fuck” your head up. Thinking about it makes my head hurt because I don’t want any girl near you to cause a distraction from being a better person and reach your potential. Thinking about what you could be doing with her now hurts. And I wrestle with my feelings of jealousy and more hurt. More hurt. Because I was passed over for her. When I was first.

So much for sending a long text to help you face and manage your conflicted emotions and head. No response for close to 11 hours. You’re with her. I’m sure. She’s gonna sway you. The only reason why you’re conflicted is because you still hope for something. For all my selfish reasons and for your sake, I darn hope she fails badly.

Yet when you’re in a mess or need advice, I give them. Because I’m too nice, in love with you but more than these, we have a friendship. And I don’t want you to be unhappy. I want to protect you. I feel the source of your unhappiness as if I’m a know-it-all who knows best. I’ve decided I do and she isn’t the answer. I wish you can find your way alone. And a part of me wants to remain a friend if only just to hear your voice once in awhile and to laugh like we used to. Each time we laugh on the phone, I feel happy that’s not gone from my life. I worry I will be greedy and want more when you have nothing to give. Even if we speak no more, contact no more, I only want you to succeed.

Each contact with you leaves me vulnerable after. I have lost count the number of times I want to go to my mother and ask for a hug. And tell her I need encouragement. But I know I cannot. She will ask and probe. I cannot let her see me weak and my heart broken. I guess I can’t bear to be berated over someone who is not worth my tears. I am so broken and yet I want to give you friendship because I know how lonely you are. It is not my responsibility but I can’t abandon you when you need help.

Karma, you said.  I wish you’d suffer it because only that’s when you’d learn like I did.

Being heartbroken is strangely humbling. It makes you small and weak and vulnerable. I am humbled. Ever since you contacted me and caused waves in my heart again, I have sunk to my knees a few times to pray for you and me. Asking for an answer to what has been tormenting me but being forcefully shoved away for my own mental state, asking to be released from pain, and ultimately, wishing that you’d be happy and good will happen to you.

How much more will I sacrifice myself to save you? How much more can I handle? How much more must my heart be tested and stretched? Why won’t you look at me again? Why did you abandon me? Why did you? How could you?

Please, come to me for advice to make the right decision, the one I think is right. And execute it. Because I (think I) know what’s best.