Really, truly over. It’s the weirdest feeling I’ve stumbled across in a long while. This wasn’t even my decision to begin with, but I think I am quickly coming to terms with the fact that we were not the couple that we thought we were, or thought we could be. Love really is not enough. I do not care what anyone else says. You can love him with all of your heart, but if he can’t give you what you need, then it doesn’t matter. We both did our best. I tried so hard over and over again to be a loving girlfriend, someone to be proud of. That’s not who I am. I’m difficult, complicated, messy. He tried so hard to make me happy, and that makes him a lot better than any other man I’ve ever been with. It just was not working. I don’t know if it was me or him, or just the both of us.
It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. My friends swear that he’s going to come back, but I don’t think there’s a point to trying anymore. How many times can you try at something? I don’t have any fight left in me. Maybe it would be more worthwhile for us to see if other people make us happier. We just can’t keep jumping ship on this relationship. This has to be for good.
I’m just trying to sort out my thoughts. I don’t want to be alive tonight. We were making love in this bed nine hours ago. Now I’m here all alone, really alone. I don’t know what to do.