He’s gone. I caught a sense of relief in his words, like leaving me was a great exhale.
I can’t help but question these past few months. Am I that easy?
Edit: NO. I have a tendency to play the victim, because I so often have been the victim in the past. It’s an easy role to fall into. It absolves me of responsibility when things go wrong, and allows me to wallow comfortably in my sadness, to fall into familiar patterns instead of challenging myself or having to do the uncomfortable task of facing and addressing my faults. The truth is, I did this. My insecurities did this. My fear did this. My inability to put my past aside and see each new person for who they are did this. I project my insecurities onto other people. I jump to conclusions. I see ghosts. Yes, my relationship ended, and, yes, it’s incredibly sad; but I am not a victim here. He wasn’t some big bad past evil, the ones who lied and left. He was a good friend. He tried his hardest, and I broke it because I don’t know how to accept that in someone. I look for deception where there isn’t any. I make up my own hurt.
I need to spend less time crying about how everyone leaves, when I always have one foot ready at the door.
