Maybe it’s because I’m a Leo, and I crave perpetual drama, but I’m having a really hard time getting over the fact that I am over my ex-boyfriend. I always thought the hard part was the initial moving on, but I have definitely initially moved on. I’ve been initially moved on for months now. Or years even, depending on your interpretation of events.
but here I am…
…back to square one, still pissing and moaning about this stale relationship.
It’s just that this initial moving on that was so healthy has been slowly growing. It’s begun to envelope me. I can feel it, when I think of him. I know it, when I think of oh how much I like other people. And it’s especially obvious whenever we interact. My lack of patience for his eccentricities that I used to find so endearing – even sexy. My lack of patience for his everything. What a loving fool I was, in retrospect. What a loving fool I am, now, to be so distraught by this marked decrease in emotional investment.
Perhaps I’m a nostalgic to a fault (a consequence of the perpetual drama that rules my life?). Perhaps I’m not actually over him.
I could be not over him being over being over me. I could be jealous. People should know not to make a lion jealous.
I think I just miss missing him, miss loving him. I miss being in that state post-relationship where everything reminds you of the two of you together and how much fun you had. I miss looking at my clothes and thinking of how he liked that shirt, or didn’t like that skirt. I miss being unable to wear the jewelry we got together for fear of bursting into tears. I miss being unable to walk the streets of Berkeley without thinking about holding his hand. I miss having sex with other people and wishing it were him.
I miss being heart broken.
Fuck you Time. I didn’t want you to heal this wound. But thanks anyway. You’re like Mom. You always know what’s best.
And will you please send me a new one, so that I might be heart broken again?