On one hand I guess I saw it coming. On the other hand, I am an eternal, optimistic, romantic so I tossed aside the nagging doubts and possible risks associated with loving too much, too blindly and as usual, went full steam ahead. I happen to be very brave. Not particularly intelligent, when it comes to men, but very brave.
So I am in the worst possible place you could ever be. Still in love and hurt. You probably know the drill. You can't eat. You can sleep but you wake up with that lonely, aching, vulnerable pain in your stomach.
Your friends know exactly what to say. Thank God for them. They are your best cheerleaders and I have to agree with them when they tell me I am "all that". I also know it is him, not me, yada, yada. And I know this too, shall pass. My best friend even gave me a ray of hope, in that, once she absolutely and thoroughly hates someone I date, I end up marrying them.
There are no words, however, at the moment, that can take the sting out of the feeling of failure. And no insights so far. as to how it could have played out differently.
Or why a perfectly nice girl like me seems easy prey for someone not perfectly nice.
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