I’m okay at dealing with my feelings, I can face up to the fact that I love cheese, wine and Taylor Swift. I can deal with the fact that I have an irrational hatred for people eating on public transport and get angry when I lose a game of monopoly. I am not a robot. However, there’s a line: too many feelings and I reach breakdown. My way of dealing with this is denial and emotionally shutting down.
I’ve been trying to cope with this by blogging: telling complete strangers how I feel in the hope that at least one person will understand what I’m feeling and tell me: ‘it’s okay, you’re not alone.’ I want so badly to say it out loud but I just can’t seem to find the words.
When I first started this blog it was my way of dealing with the small issue of unrequited love. Falling for someone who has never and will never feel the same way. I wish I could say it was the first time. After a few months of not seeing him and using my blog as a way to piece myself back together, I got over it. And that’s the key thing: I wanted to get over it. Feeling the way I did was one of the lowest points in my life, and I wanted nothing more than to feel myself again.
What then do you do if you don’t want to get over it? If there’s a person you don’t want to get over. If being around him makes you feel the happiest and most yourself you’ve ever felt. If you’re the person you want to be when you’re around him and without him, you’re lost.
I’m trying to think of a way to end this post, to sum it up: conclude. But that’s the thing: I don’t want a conclusion. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of for even the smallest shred of him. Things that go against every one of my moral codes. The thing is, I don’t regret any of them, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t want a conclusion, I don’t want a last chapter; for me there’s still a whole book left to write.