A Thank You to the Boy Who Broke my Heart...and the Boy Who Came After Him.

A Thank You to the Boy who Broke my Heart...and the Boy who Came After Him.

Dear boy who broke my heart, 
Thank you. Thank you for putting up with my crazy, my emotional struggles, my mental breakdowns, and my personal faults. Thank you for staying through the hard times, the bad days, and the moments of weakness. Thank you for lifting me up when I needed it, telling me I was beautiful on my worst days, and falling so deep in love with me that you thought you would never get out. Thank you thank you thank you for being my rock and my best friend. Also, thank you for leaving. Thank you for holding my hand and telling me you loved me before walking away for the last time. Thank you for ignoring phone calls, text messages, and the constant "why" that came every day after. Thank you for telling me you just needed some time, but actually meaning you needed forever. Thank you for tearing my heart into a lot of tiny pieces. Most of all, thank you for teaching me strength and stone. You taught me how to feel less and how to make myself happy. You taught me how to be alone and okay. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart, for making me tough.

Dear boy who came after,
Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for promising you wouldn't leave. Thank you for helping me learn how to trust myself with someone again, Thank you for listening to every sad story I had to tell and every unfortunate justification I had to make for my heart of stone. Thank you for telling me it's okay to fall for someone and that it's just as scary for you too. Thank you for telling me you wanted to fall in love with me, even though you knew it would take some time. Thank you for ensuring me it was okay to meet your friends and become part of the group and promising that you wouldn't go anywhere even if your friends didn't like me. Thank you for the sleepovers, dealing with the emotional talks, and making me feel like I mattered. Finally, thank you for leaving. Thank you for showing me how people change in the blink of an eye. Thank you for teaching me how to wake up one morning and not care about the person I was sleeping next to and kissing goodbye before work. Thank you for making my partially melted heart freeze right back up. Thank you for the excuses and the million reasons why you decided that you just didn't care. Thank you for running as fast as you could. It means more to me than you'll ever know.

Dear boy whose coming next, 
I don't know if you exist. I don't know if you want to. I'm slightly broken, damaged goods. I don't know that you'll want to pick up those pieces or clean up that mess. I've adjusted well to being alone and independent. I will choose my best friend over you every time. I'll spend my own money, work as many hours as I see fit, and some days, I'll just want to be alone. I'll take as many opportunities as I want, whether it means traveling a million miles away from you or picking up an extra shift. I won't come running if you call, and I won't chase after you if you go. I won't change my personality, my appearance, or my social life to suit your needs or wants. Sometimes I'll seem a little cold and uninterested, while sometimes I'll be more involved in you than in anything else. I'll treat you as best as I know how. I won't hurt you, I won't destroy you, and I won't chase you away. I can't promise that I'll make you stick around, but I can promise that I'll leave that choice entirely up to you. I don't need you, even if I really want you. If you need to thank anyone for that, thank the boy who broke my heart and the boy who came after him.

The Unfortunate Truth Behind Some Unfortunate People

Well, it's Wednesday. I'm pretty sure every blog post starts off just like that. I'm still sitting at this boring desk, but I've managed to keep myself busy doing things this morning. Keeping busy is always a good thing. It makes me happy, and it makes me feel like I'm not wasting all of my time thinking about absolutely nothing, or about the absolute wrong things...and people.

Speaking of wrong people, I have some lovely updates on our favorite wrong person. After sleeping with Kris a little over a week ago, communication has since been scarce. I figured this would happen, and I prepared myself in the best way possible, but I think as humans, we have a natural tendency to get our hopes up, even when we know we shouldn't. I think that's what I did, despite doing my best to prepare for his abrupt but expected departure. Kris is a runner. He's been one since I met him. He put on a really good act for the first month or so that we dated, but eventually, his true colors shined bright and blurry. He swears that he doesn't follow a pattern; that everything he does is completely random and spur of the moment. I don't buy it for a second.

Kris and I dated for a little over three months before the first break up, but that last month was the worst. In the beginning, he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met. He was always asking me to hang out, he encouraged me to meet and spend time with his friends. He bought me just about anything I wanted and paid for every date. He would pick me up, I rarely ever had to drive. We talked everyday, basically all day when time allowed. It was perfect. Then one by one, those perfect things started fading away until they just didn't exist anymore. One day he was breaking up with me without a solid reason. A week passed before we tried again, and again, the same fleeting feeling happened, just in a shorter period of time. I shouldn't have expected this to go any different, but a small part of me did.

I almost expected this to be like Levandis. I wanted it to be the same pattern so much that I convinced myself it would be. With Levandis, we were basically dating without a title, then prom happened and we stopped talking, the we fixed things, then Sarina happened and we stopped talking, then we fixed things and dated a year and a half before quitting. Kris and I dated, then broke up, dated, then broke up, then slept together. I expected a relationship to follow, but it didn't. He swears that he told me he wasn't looking for a relationship, which is half accurate. He did tell me he wasn't looking for a relationship right now, but the way he said it, he made it sound like we just needed to get back on track before dating again. Yet this past Monday, he told me he couldn't give me what I want, and that he wasn't ready for a relationship. Is this a joke? I'm not laughing if it is. Communication over the last week has faded slowly. It went from snapchats and texts to just snapchats. Today, I haven't heard from him at all.

We had a relatively lengthy argument Monday night over his stupidity. Now let me ask you this, future readers (probably me in a few months). If you want someone, and you find yourself missing them when they're gone, do you go get them or do you let them go? YOU GO GET THEM. You do not let that person go because you will be regretting it later. Kris is relatively selfish, so I'm not sure how much he would really regret letting me walk away. However, I'd like to think he's at least feeling a pang of hurt over this, even if he doesn't let on.

I told him he was stupid for consistently letting people go, and that he was stupid for constantly blaming it on his selfishness. Selfish is doing something for your own personal gain and no one else's. It's keeping the $100 bill you found on the street because you need a new pair of shoes rather than turning it in for fear that the person who lost it might need it more. Being selfish is not sharing your french fries, even though you won't finish them and you'll forget the to-go box on the table, because their YOURS, and why would you share your stuff? That's being selfish. Being stupid, however, is chasing and pushing people away because they care about you. Because the thought of you hurting or struggling pains them, and they want to be supportive and helpful. It's perfectly acceptable to be independent and self-serving. I'm pretty on my own when it comes to most things. I pay for whatever I can, I rarely ask people for favors, I hardly ever bother anyone with my problems. I'm good at being alone. I grew up an only child. My entire family was wealthy while we were the poor black sheep, so I was typically secluded from all of my cousins. I grew up extremely shy with a lack of skills to make friends. I had me, and me was all I needed. Yes, I've struggled with letting people in because based on experience, people always leave at one point or another. Even if they promise that they'll always be around, they break that promise faster than a softball player breaks a nail.

Friends and loved ones have come and gone in my life since I was a kid. As soon as I tell one of them my secrets, they're finding new friends to spend time with, and now my secrets are no longer safe with a friend. They're in the mind of a stranger who abandoned me when I thought I needed them. At some point, I learned to stop needing people. I don't need Kris, or a relationship in general. I would enjoy one, especially with him, but it's not make or break for me. I've often contemplated spending forever alone, and it's not as scary as it sounds. If I never found someone after Levandis, I would've been okay not looking anymore. Levandis was a dick. He was a terrible boyfriend to me, and he's not the greatest to Sandie. He's not even a good friend anymore. It is what it is. I'm truly better off without him.

Kris, however, is a different story. There was nothing wrong with us, a phrase I found myself saying daily after the first break up. It's the truth though. There wasn't anything wrong with us, except for the fact that I cared about him and he doesn't know how to handle it. I'll admit, it's a trying process. I struggled so hard trying to care about people after TJ and again after Levandis. I always find myself in that place after a break up. I finally learn how to care again, and then they leave, and I realize why I put in such an effort to not care. Then when I do get in a relationship, most of the initial conversations involve: "why don't you seem to care?", "why can't you talk to me about this stuff?", etc. It's a never ending cycle, and I know how it goes. It's unfortunate, but it's my pattern. We all have patterns, even if we don't want to admit it.

So, I understand Kris's struggle to take responsibility for a relationship. A lot of weight is put on your shoulders because you begin to feel responsible for someone else's well being and their emotional state. You want good things for your significant other and you feel like you have to provide them with those good things. It's a heavy task load, and when you have other life things going on, you definitely have to pick and choose your battles carefully. With that being said, I fully respect his lack of readiness for a relationship. I don't think I'm ready for a relationship with him yet, but I was at least willing to work slowly to get there. However, what I don't respect is running away from people who want nothing but the best for you, and who truly just want to care about you.

I care about Kris more than he realizes. He was such an important person in my life for so many reasons. He came around at a time where my world was still slightly flipped upside down, walls were crashing, and nothing seemed like it was going to work out in my favor. He changed all of that. He showed me a positive side to all the trouble I was having. Whether it was a word of encouragement that I would pass orgo or a forehead kiss to show that not all guys suck, he was a key piece to finding my sanity. He doesn't even realize it. He was the most giving person I had ever met. He dished out money like he was a millionaire, he took great care of me when I needed it, and he gave so much effort into our relationship and making me fit in. He was never selfish unless it was with his food.

Even when he broke up with me, he wasn't being selfish. He didn't leave because he didn't care or because he didn't like me. He left because he thought I was settling. He thought I deserved better than what I was getting because he couldn't give me all of his time or attention like he thought I wanted. He started catching on that I cared so much and he started distancing himself. He started pulling away from me, and with that went all of the nice things I came to love about him. He warned me within the first week of our relationship that sometimes his anger makes him say things he doesn't mean. He never told me that his fear did the same. I learned that one on my own. I cared, he freaked out, and he told me a lot of lies to push me away and force me to move on. Imagine his surprise when he figured out that it didn't work, and that even now after all of this commotion, I'm still here.

The thing about me is that once I care about you, it's a consistent thing. It stays for a very long time, and you have to do something really terrible for it to change. When he came back into my life on the strangest Monday in my history of Monday's, I was looking so hard for a pattern. I looked desperately until I realized that there was a pattern, just not the one I wanted. I wish he would understand how much I care. I wish he would stop pushing people away because they care, and in addition, blaming it on his selfish nature.

He lost Nicole and the rest of his crew for the same reasons. He shut them out, like he always does, when he has a problem. Something went wrong in his life and instead of looking for support, his independent mindset told him to deal with it himself. In turn, Nicole & friends felt offended because they wanted to help him but he wouldn't let them in. Now, I do understand Kris's quiet nature since I'm the same way. If I'm having these problems, everyone else is too, so why put mine on top of theirs and make them deal with double? I'll deal with them myself and keep everyone as sane as possible. Nicole and the crew should understand that, but I also understand how difficult that can be. As his girlfriend, it was terrorizing watching him go through hard times and not knowing what they were or how to help. Levandis used to hate when I kept to myself because he said it made him feel useless. Like he just wanted to be here for me and he couldn't be and he didn't know what to do. I never understood that until Kris. I finally felt that useless feeling, and it was agonizing. Regardless, I dealt with it and did the best that I could. I respected his feelings, but I never said it was easy.

Nicole should've just given him his time and his space to work out his emotions, but she didn't, and as a result, he pushed her, and everyone associated with her, to the side. He didn't want her to care about him so much, and when she did, he ran in the complete opposite direction. He does it to everyone. Even me. It's sad and unfortunate, but it's obvious that no amount of talking will ever change his mind. Even after a long message, the only response I could get from him was "I guess only time will tell." And then I haven't heard from him since. Well, he snapchatted me twice on Tuesday, but nothing on Wednesday. And since I'm finishing this post on Thursday, I can accurately say that I haven't heard from him today either. It's a major bummer.At least when he was snapchatting me, I knew he was thinking about me. He was making the conscious decision to scroll through his friends and mark my name when there was a cute puppy or a funny scene outside. Now, he's making a point to scroll past my name when these things happen, and although I realize that means he's still thinking about me, it also means he's walking away.

It's times like these where I realize that keeping my mouth shut might have been a better idea. Or maybe responding to the snapchats I got Tuesday would've resulted in the trend continuing. Or maybe avoiding him two Mondays ago and not answering his snapchat or text message would've saved me all of this trouble. I never know the right way to handle these situations. I never know what the best move is. I want it to be like the movies where if you don't answer him, he'll chase after you. But I also recognized patterns with other people that I want to apply here. The struggle is that everyone's different and every situation's different. What works with one person might not work with another, and what works under one circumstance might not work under another. There's a lot of difficulties all rolled into one person, and in turn, it hurts everyone around them.

I really do hope that I'm overthinking the day without a snapchat ordeal. I also hope that my final message got to him enough to make him think about it. Even if he and I don't work, I want him to be happy at some point. Everyone deserves that. To his face, I'll never admit it. But even jackasses like him deserve a shot at being completely over the moon ecstatic over another human being. I hope that it can be me. I hope that my lecturing, yelling, and "you're such an idiot's" will make a difference, and that it'll make a difference with me. But I guess only time will tell, and time is a grueling concept.

Just Another Wired Wednesday.

Well, it's Wednesday. Another four and a half hour shift at the most boring job in the world. I can't focus, per usual. Granted, there's nothing really to focus on except for the two men working vigorously on the fire alarms who will most likely dish out some harsh judgment when they go off and I jump, even though I know they're gonna go off. My right arm hurts more than usual, but I'm not really surprised. I really think it's these esophageal muscle spasms, which really shouldn't even be a thing. But I'll deal with them. I can get past the arm thing.

It's been a weird, exciting, and unfortunate past few days. Yes, I absolutely used those three words to describe the same collection of events. Monday was the weirdest. I was up at 3 am to drive Millie to Dekalb for cheer camp. I finally made it to my couch around 5:45. Instead of an hour nap before leaving for work, I got a snapchat from Kris. Not surprising. I expect one daily now, except the circumstances have change a little. His snapchat Monday was a picture of his back porch with the caption "I had a dream that you were here." Weird. I usually assume all of the snapchats I get are just received in a collection sent to every other girl on his friends list. This one was meant for me. It was specifically for me. Why are you dreaming about me? What was I doing on your back porch? Why did you feel the need to tell me about it? Was any of this conversation actually necessary? The questions were endless, but instead of asking, I kindly replied by telling him I was on my couch and not to worry. None of my reply snaps were worth a response, yet he kept sending some anyways. Before I knew it, he had worked his way to number one on my best friends list. And as soon as he got there, he was texting me and we were having a conversation. Why does this always happen to me? I distinctly remember the day of the Hawks parade in 2013 when I was on the train with Dominique and Levandis texted me for the first time in a month or so. The conversation was short because he still had a girlfriend, but regardless, he felt the need to talk to me. Then the fourth of July came and I was in Millie's car and I got another text from him, even though I had ignored anything he sent me since the parade. For some reason, something told me to respond, so I did. Later that night, we were kissing in a parking lot watching the fireworks and snuggling up to each other, just like we had on top of Belly Button Hill all those times before him and Sarina. A few weeks after that, we were a real couple. Something I couldn't even get him to do after months of talking and hanging out and being together. Part of me has used that experience to judge everything after that too, which is why I answered Kris and held a conversation and eventually went to his house that night.

Going to his house was weird, but a normal kind of weird. I did it like I'd been doing it the whole summer. Told my mom I was going to Vanessa's, got in my car, turned Pandora on, and looked for the quickest way to get on 57. Parked my car in front and walked in the front door, the only thing different being the furnished living room. I was greeted by a happy, slobbery Shadow and an adorable boy laying in bed watching cartoons. For a second, it felt like nothing was different, until I realized that everything was different. This boy broke me temporarily. He changed me. He made me fall hard and fast for his charisma and trusting eyes just to change his mind over and over again. He made me cold and indifferent about feelings. I didn't even cry the day he broke up with me for good because I lacked that much emotion. He made me hate him which is something I pride myself in avoiding. I hate very few people, and the ones I do hate deserved it under every circumstance. As soon as I realized that everything about this encounter was different than it used to be, I tensed up and turned bitch mode on, biting my tongue every time he opened his mouth. I wanted to scream, yell, and punch him, but instead, I sat quietly at the edge of his bed watching TV or staring at my phone.

I felt like my sanity was being tested with every word that he said. Every time he told me to come lay down, I didn't know if I wanted to claw his eyeballs out or yell or cry. Why? Why do you want me to lay down? Why do you want me here? What is this? More endless questions that went unanswered. I fought long and hard to avoid being close to him. At one point, I started my word vomit, as expected, and he leaned up real fast and got real close to my face and asked "are you done?," with that smirk on his face that always made me want to kiss him hard and fast. My heart froze in my chest and I couldn't find words. I breathed the heaviest sigh of relief when he laid back down. A few minutes later, I was being pulled and tugged to his end of the bed. I assumed I would lay there and he would lay on his side and it would be awkward and uncomfortable and silent. Not even close. The minute he got me on the pillow, he was putting his arms around me; a feeling so familiar and so missed. I fit in his body like I was always meant to be there, even though in this moment, I was meant to be anywhere else. All I could think of was fourth of July in 2013 when Levandis kissed me for the first time in a month. The feeling in my stomach as soon as he did it, the giddiness I felt on the ride home, and the nervousness I felt in the coming weeks about how stable our "relationship" would be. Kris scared me. His actions were so familiar, and it made it all too easy to fall back into old habits.

After the fifth "what are you doing right now," he asked me if I missed him. A question he asked me earlier that day via text message, to which I replied. "I really really missed your dog." The same response I gave when asked in person. Until he kissed me. Slow and soft, just like he used to. The same kiss I got on our first date. The same kiss I got almost every day until the Friday before he broke up with me the first time. And then the second time. Immediately, I was back into old habits, praying and hoping that I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I should've known better, but even three days later, I still don't know if I'm learning my lesson. Before I knew what I was doing, I was telling him I missed him, and he was kissing me with twice as much passion as I had expected, telling me he missed me too. Then clothes were coming off. Mouths were moving quick. Everything was happening all at once, and I truly had no idea how to feel. This wouldn't be like sex with Levandis. It wouldn't be a quick five minutes of no kissing and minimal touching. This wouldn't be the bare minimum to accomplish what we needed. This would have feelings. For someone who was unattracted and bored, the next 30 minutes definitely did not feel that way. For 30 minutes, I was convinced that nothing had changed. We were still us and our relationship was still strong. But once it was over and my clothes were back on, and he was waiting for me to climb into bed with him to cuddle and finish the movie, I knew that nothing was normal. "So that's why you missed me." Not "that was great," or "you're so good at that." An immediate accusation left my mouth and part of me remembered why we didn't work the first time.

He swore that he didn't just use me for sex, it wasn't even part of his plan. I didn't know if I should believe him, but now I'm starting not to. However, stupidly in that moment, I did. I laid back down with him and finished the movie. When it was over, we laid in his bed, both staring at our phones, not really talking or saying anything. We hadn't talked about all of the things that had happened in between the time we were apart. He briefly mentioned his issue with Nicole and how they aren't really friends. I told him that TJ got married. We talked a little about Stacie and Steve's wedding, and he hinted at me letting him walk me down the aisle and seat me. What does that mean? Do we have a future now? Am I gonna be a thing for him again? I have no idea, but it freaks me the fuck out. Anyways, besides those few pieces of information, we didn't talk about a lot. There was a lot of cuddling and sex and kissing. We decided that we were both hungry and had the typical "what are we gonna eat" discussion. We settled on KFC, got in the car, and off we went. He sang to me as always. Again, like nothing had changed. We sat in his bed and ate our food while searching desperately for something else to watch. He refused my Grey's Anatomy suggestion, even though I expressed how huge it was for me to be with him instead of binge watching. He still refused. Instead, we settled on some sort of creepy movie, that basically was torture on television. He went back and laid down while I stayed in my corner. I didn't know if I should leave because it was almost 10 or if I should stay and see what else happened. I chose to stay. We had the "come lay down" fight once again, but finally, he got me where he wanted me. This cuddle sesh seemed a lot more intimate than when I first got there. My head was on his chest, there were lots of cheek and forehead kisses, and a few times, he turned his entire body to cuddle me completely. I was so happy, it was ridiculous.

Before the movie started getting good, he asked me what time I was leaving. I said I would stay for a little bit longer and then go. He told me I could spend the night, but I couldn't leave before the movie ended. I wanted to spend the night, but I knew that I shouldn't, so I chose to stay for the movie and then leave. I almost kicked myself for not spending the night, but I knew it would be twice as hard to leave, and today, my regret behind that decision is minimal. It was a good choice. I snuggled blissfully while watching the weirdest movie I've ever seen. After it was over, we laid there for a couple minutes, and then I told him I had to go. He got up and let me out, and as I walked out the door, he gave me a kiss goodbye. I kept it short. I was trying to avoid it, because goodbye kisses mean a lot to me. Those could be the last kiss you ever give or receive from someone. You never know. You could die, you could break up, something could happen to them. You just never know. Goodbye kisses mean a lot to me, and accepting this one made it twice as hard to let go of the night. I'm still hopelessly waiting for another goodbye kiss, even though I'm relatively convinced that it won't happen.

When I got home, I texted him to let him know that I didn't get stabbed in the thigh by an ice pic or raped by an Aaron Carter look-alike. As soon as I got home, the word vomit started again. He openly admitted that he lied when he said he was unattracted and bored of us. He said it in an attempt to push me away and make it easier to let go. Well, look who came back. I told him he was an idiot for letting me go, and that a great part of me gave up on him a while ago, and that it was a total loss for him. "You were here tonight so it wasn't a complete loss." That statement may have broken me more than "I think we need to break up." It roped me in as soon as it left his fingers. I don't love him. I don't hate him. I'm infatuated with him, and I want to love him. I want him to let me love him. I want him to stop running. I told him he didn't want me and that he never did. He told me he does want me, just not a real relationship right now. I can't do this again. I can't Levandis again.

I'm not the type of person who shares well, and I blame it on being an only child. I never had to share my toys growing up, so why should I have to share my boys? I shouldn't. I also know I'm better than that. I know I'm worth a real relationship with someone who is just as infatuated with me as I am with them. I deserve someone's unconditional support and effort. I deserve a boyfriend, not a casual "let's hang out, fuck, then cuddle." I deserve more. I want more. With Kris, I'm not getting more. Who knows how many other girls he's talking to. Who knows how many other girls he's having sex with. Who knows what he's doing with his life. Maybe he just wanted to see me because his roommates weren't home and he has no other friends now. Maybe all of the other girls were busy. Maybe he really did miss me, and maybe he really does want to make something work again. Maybe this is Levandis 2.0. Maybe in a couple of weeks we'll be dating again. Maybe we'll make it work this time for real. Maybe we'll last a long year and a half before we finally give up on each other. Maybe history will repeat itself like it always does for me. I almost hope that this will work, even though the natural pessimist in me is screaming that it won't.

I vowed not to text him yesterday. I was always putting in the effort, why should I do it again? I also don't want to look desperate for attention or his affection. Around 7:30 in the morning, he snapchatted me a puppy and said good morning. I snapped back and commented on how cute it was. An hour or so later, he snapped me another puppy. I didn't respond. He snapped me again a little while after that showing me a surgery. I snapped him back and said it was gross. He said he knew. I didn't respond. Around 1:30, he texted me a screenshot of a "what are those" video. We talked the rest of the day. When I got home from work, I spewed more word vomit at him. The final message I sent him told him that I wasn't really here anymore, but I never left either. He said it didn't make sense, but it did. Here's why.

It's accurate. I'm not around anymore. I'm not going to snap and text him desperately looking for his attention. I'm not going to beg him to be around with me. I'm not going to ask him to hang out or do things. I'm not going to complain that I haven't seen him but I want to. I stopped doing that in May. I don't intend on doing it again. I can't. I did it once and he made sure to destroy that part of me when he left. I want him, but I don't need him, and he's going to see that. However, I never left either. He always had the opportunity to come back, and I would gladly take him. As long as he acted the way he did Monday night. I don't want the jackass I got last time. I want the sweet boy I got in the beginning. The one who cared. What happened happened. We can't change it nor can we take it back. It's over now. I gave up hope on him when he broke up with me and I didn't cry. I'm a crybaby by nature, so if I'm not crying over losing someone I thought I loved, then I've given up. Yet I still want him. If he wants to make us work, I'm totally on board. I didn't have the heart or the energy to clarify. I couldn't bring myself to provide an explanation. I barely slept on Monday due to my early start and eventful day, I didn't get to bed until after midnight Monday night just to wake up at 6:30 am for work Tuesday morning. I worked the desk and an orientation shift, which was busy and stressful. I sat in annoying traffic on my 1 hour+ ride home, ate a crappy Lean Cuisine for dinner, and watched dumb cartoons with my mom because I couldn't find the energy to make it down the stairs. I had no effort left to spill my heart out to a boy who doesn't really care. So when he said my statement made no sense, I just let it go and went to sleep. It's 11 am, he's posted 40 seconds worth of snapchat stories, but hasn't spoken to me yet. And maybe he won't. I know that it'll sting a little. Missing someone gets easier the less you see of them, but when they choose to make a surprise appearance at the most random time, the missing part gets hard again.

Part of me doesn't want to hear from him today. Part of me wants to get back on my path that I created for myself after he left. Anti-Kris attitude in full force. But a bigger part of me is afraid to look at my phone every time it vibrates because there's a good chance it won't be him on the other end. A bigger part of me wants him to text me something super random so we can start a conversation. Even when I tried ending the conversation yesterday and Monday by not texting back or texting something that didn't require a response, he found something to talk about. He invoked conversation. I almost feel like I should text him and talk because he's put in the effort and now it's my turn. I also don't feel like that's my responsibility. I don't want to be the bitch that won't text first, but I don't want to be the bitch that reeks of desperation. I want to hear from him, but I want him to know that I'm perfectly okay without him. That's a fine line, and I'm never sure where it truly crosses.

Today I get to hang out with my baby sissy. We're going shopping for her graduation present. We're gonna get some food. We're gonna spend one last bonding day together before she leaves for Wyoming tomorrow. Tomorrow, I have the day off, but he works from 1-8. I need to clean my room anyways so Mill and I can start painting on Friday. Friday, I work 8-12:30 at the desk, Rachel and I are getting lunch, then I work another orientation, so I probably won't get home until 6:30-7 anyways. We might start painting, but it'll probably start Saturday instead. I'll spend the whole weekend painting with Mill. I work a lot next week too, and we're getting closer and closer to school starting and my birthday. I'll have lots of things to keep me busy, I hope. I can make it through this. I know I can. It'll be hard, but I've gotten over harder things. I have a really great group of friends (Levandis, Millie, Moe, and Elaina) to keep me occupied. I haven't told any of them that Kris and I hung out, or are even speaking for that matter. I don't really know if I even will. There's no reason to tell them something that's not important. If Kris and I actually go somewhere, then I'll tell them. Until then, Briana is the only one who knows. She's the only one whose going to know. If she tells Moe, it's fine. I'll live with it. But I'm not making a big deal out of nothing. No mountains from mole hills. My heart is still bruised from the last time, but I've worked really hard to heal it. Now that it's almost there, I'm not going to let it hurt again. I refuse.

UPDATE: He snapchatted me a picture where his face was replaced by the sleepy one saying it's too early to be time for work again. I didn't reply. I posted another story so he knew I wasn't too busy. But I didn't reply. Willpower going strong.