She ran like the rain.

I started to cry today. I was so close I could almost feel the warm tears running down my cheek. Then, I said why cry? I felt a temporary, fake, happiness. And then, I cried. Crying isn't something I like to do, but I've learned it's necessary. It's part of recovery. It's a part of life that will never cease to exist. I cried, but not as much as I wanted to. Just a tear or two fell upon my sweater. I have a feeling there will be more tears before I shut my eyes tonight. But, I'm okay with that. A friend once asked me, when I was in a heartbroken stance a year ago, if it had rained lately. It was November, and it hadn't rained in weeks. I replied no. He said, after the rain, you'll feel peace again. It rained shortly after he said that, and he was right. I felt better. Tears are something like rain. You always feel better after the rain or the tears. When it rains, it is because the clouds are so full they need to release. Sometimes we get so full we need to release as well. I'm learning on the hard road of knocks as we speak. So many times I've sat here in this very spot throughout posting to you all and just wept my soul away. Tears have flooded this keyboard more than you'll ever know. This is my escape. This is my freedom. This is my life to you through the only means I can express it.

Norah Jones sings a song called What am I to you which captivates me every time I hear it. Sometimes I think back to that song and say What am I to you? "To me you are the sea, as vast as you can be." But, even though you think so highly of someone, they may not return that level of adornment. That's what I'm struggling with. I heard this saying once: Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end. I recant upon that all the time. I'll be okay, yes. It's just the path to getting there that's the hard part.

I sit here with chills due to the cold and to the fact that my self-pity is eating me away. Once again love has me under it's thumb. It's been a year since I've dealt with this pain. And, I guess I must conquer round three. But, how many more rounds will there be? That's the pending question I ask myself... I'm going on the end of three as we speak...

Christmas didn't feel right this year. I felt so lonely and abandoned. I feel so alone and ill at ease. I'm ready to start my life. The life I've lived so far isn't good enough for me. And, it's all at my power. My life is at my command. I can choose to sit around and mope, or I can get up and reign my pedestal. Someday, everything will be okay. Someday, I'll figure it all out.

I can't help but think of the memories. It is so funny how I can only think of the good memories when I'm dealing with getting over someone. But then, the hurtful memories wake me up from the past and the dreams that used to be my reality. But, now they are just dreams. Dreams lingering over my bed that slowly turn into nightmares. I wish I had support. I wish I had someone to go to who knew exactly what it felt like to hurt. Then, I remember, I do know what it feels like to hurt. I wish I knew someone who cared enough to let me vent every ounce of emotion I have and to not think I'm being dramatic or "emo" or stupid. People always tell me it could always be worse, or you don't have it that bad. That eats me up!! I hate when people choose to think what is hurting me is minor or regarded as unimportant. Because you know what? It is important. It's important to me.

Then, I remember how this is most likely a time of solitude. A time to be lonely. A time to be afraid. There is so much I want to say to him. So much of my mind I could give him. But, it doesn't matter. He is too dense to comprehend any feeling I have. It's all hogwash to him. It's all nothing. It is always nothing. It's always been nothing. It will always BE nothing.

It is going to be so hard not talking to him. I'm going to get so depressed that I'm going to pick up that phone and call him or text him. But, I won't!! I will not! That's what I'm having to tell myself. That I won't. But in actuality, I hope I won't. I need a reinforcement.

I tend to think of myself as something special. But really, I'm not. I'm just like everyone else. Normal. And that's what kills me.

Someday, everything will be okay. Someday, I'll figure it all out.