After all the thinking-through, the ill-tempers flaring this week and the chaos of the upcoming inspection, with all the insanity that I couldn't handle, and somehow already lacking the nerve to talk to Rex because he doesn't seem all that interested in me [mike, you little jinxing...!], I have come to two conclusions the day before said ex's birthday/kick-off of Operation Scotland.
One, Cupid's won, and I've given up the fight. I'm done.
And
Two, I'm still *miserably, mind you!* in love with that one ex.
No, not the one who wants me back. But the one who left a fragile heart hanging on until it fell off the table of life and shattered on disaster's floor.
Yes, you all read proper. Cupid's won, and I can't get over my ex. And to be honest with you all, I'm pathetic. Miserably pathetic.
I guess you can say, I've tried, I've struggled. I've fought tooth and nail. And for what!? Sweet, miserable nothingness. Absolutely in vain. Just as I bled my heart out for whatever remained of my ex and I before the break-up.
Originally, this was going to be Mike's "Happy Birthday/Good luck in Scotland" post, especially for him, in which I was going to be fairly nice about the whole matter, and then actually be a bit harsh on the matter [sarcastically], and back to being nice. Sort of a "Happy Birthday/NOW GET THE EFF OUT OF HERE/and Good luck to ya!" kind of post.
Thinking through this morning, on break, talking with Coworker Tabby, well... let's just say, the original birthday/bashing post idea sort of got slumpered for... for... for this!! This miserable declaration of defeat against my greatest arch-nemesis of all time. This humble affirmation that I'm still in love with someone that I'm afraid I'll never have again. This quiet misery of hiding in a corner of the crew room crying because everything that I once thought over the summer would be alright... has all gone wrong.
This... wasn't what I wanted to face as fall was approaching, my birthday coming up in less than a month [4 weeks from today, to be exact], biggest inspection at work on Saturday, and Halloween-costume hunting next week. This just wasn't what I wanted, not at all what I needed. But this is what I got. And this is what I have to work with.
I said it before, and I'll say it again: Life sucks.
I'm still a fool. I'm still in love. I suppose that makes me pathetic. Or just someone who's holding on, no matter what the odds are. Not sure what this makes of me. Or maybe Mike's just looking at this, shaking his head going "Geez Jenn, just let it go..."
The only problem is, I can't.
And if realizing all of this makes me even more of the fool that I've become, then I stand proudly and take it all in. And, in spite of the tears, smile. Because whatever's left of my sanity, my loyalty, my dignity and my sense of hope, my inner cheer and my sense of quirkiness, my lost joy in love and the promise of a better day...
all of this is something that nobody can take from me. Ever.
If I were given one more day, one more hour, one more moment with him... if I were given the chance to rewind the clock, stop all of time for a moment before he left and tell him how I really feel... if the opportunity presented itself, car fixed and all, for me to drive all the freckin' way to Lakeland just to tell him how much I still love him...
at the earliest heartbeat, I would dare not waste it.
And yet, I'm still a dreamer, aren't I? I'm still a foolish dreamer that can't get over a break-up that's numbed most of me for a while now. I'm still someone in love... terribly in love. And if that brings about the result of people calling me 'stupid' or 'foolish' or 'immature' then, whatever! Let the namecalling commence. I'm a foolish girl, still sadly-ever-after in love, AND DAMN PROUD OF IT!!
[I mean, not as proud as I'm a child of God, but y'all get the idea.]
If even only for one second a day a thought of me crossed his mind... if ever he still had [and maybe still has?] a place for me in his heart...
it would've been enough.
If there was only one moment he had before he left on that plane to just call me and say "Hey Sunshine"... if ever he thought to himself "I wonder what that silly girl is up to... I hope she's alright" and smiled...
it would've been enough.
If ever, those last few days before he left for Lakeland, he ever said what was on his mind... if ever, those last few days before he left for Lakeland, I told him how much I loved him, for those last solemn moments...
it would've been enough.
If, while he was away, he would've just, at least, let me know he still loved me... if before this all fell apart... just to hear him tell me that he loved me, for one final time...
it would've been enough.
Why did I wait so long... perhaps this is my fault because I didn't say any of this sooner? I know it's not my fault we broke up [or so he says] but... I don't know. If I could change whatever could've been changed...
Alas, it's too late to change anything now. All I can do is give up, watch Cupid as he swirls around in victory, and cry in miserable defeat. Cupid's won, Mike's over me, and there isn't a single thing I can do about it.
All that's left to do is cry. Just, cry. And wish he had told me he loved me just one time last.
If he ever wanted a second chance, I'd give him that. And a million more chances if he wanted them.
So yeah, hey Mike, Happy Birthday. I still love you. And I wish you Godspeed en route to Scotland. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. You know better.
Until the next round...
~ 'Sunshine'
P.S. 6:02 P.M. - ...yeah, I feel better. Lots better. Glad I got that off my nerves!!
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