Played part deux

I'm still trying to deaden all these feelings with wine and Morrissey and texting any other man around.

Two steps forward twelve steps back? Is that the expression?

I shouldn't have gone to his play. I shouldn't have gone to his play, I shouldn't keep sacrificing what I need for how he feels.

I've been walking around for days with the lingering thought, What is the point? Why even try? and it took tonight for me to realize that I am deeply affected from seeing his play.

It took my close friend tonight saying she knew someone else in the play, someone who said he was seeing someone else, someone who said he acted like I was a stalker who just showed up to his bullshit play.

I was invited.

I couldn't give a damn.

Except I do give a damn. I care so much that I didn't realize it, I care so much that I've been wandering through my life the last few days, thinking vaguely suicidal thoughts even though that's not like me, and today, tonight, I realize: going to that play was a serious mistake that I can't undo, and with this knowledge: I cried the whole drive home tonight, cried four months after the fact for feeling like I'd been duped one more time, I'd fallen for his charisma one more time.

My current life can be summed up in a Taylor Swift song. This is what it has come to. I am a child.