Some outlet.
What I just did was probably the best decision I've made in a long time (in this respect). The weirdest thing about it is it wasn't as hard as I thought. It really wasn't hard to say. The thing that'll be hard will be going to bed tonight and having time to think about what I'm missing out on. I'm not really missing out on very much, but what's there is there.
All I know is, it's probably over now, after this long. Why was it so easy?
I don't know. But I do know that soon, I think I'll tell someone. I'll unload the whole thing onto someone and let them judge me how they want. I don't want to do it, but I think it'll be better afterwards. I'm so tired of going through it alone, keeping it a secret, letting it get to me without any outlet.
If they work out, it might be easier on me.
But what if they don't? What if it turns out the way it always does, and it starts over again? Then it might not end the way I want it.
I'm so scared I'll get bitter. I don't want to, I really don't. I hate ruining things.
Did I ruin it last time? Well, now I'm not so sure.
I've probably given this whole thing away now. I know, I know, it was supposed to be a secret! Just between us!
Whatever, sometimes people need to confide in someone.
Uh huh, that was my excuse last time.
But this time! Ah, I think I really finished it cleanly! This time, there is no anger. All there is right now is sadness, but it's not for us. It's self-pity, I'm sure of it.
And oh no, now the guilt sets in. After all this time, the guilt just sets in.
I don't miss him, that's not what's making me upset. It's the fact that I was so ridiculously selfish.
Was I? I don't know.
I really didn't want to write this much. I really don't like this. Maybe I'm not doing as well as I initially thought.
Or maybe I'm fine. Yeah, that's probably it.