I haven’t wanted to celebrate at all this year and you are the reason.
This time last year, you were mine… or so I thought. I was happy. I was in love. A week later, you stole that all away from me and my life turned into hell for two months. It’s been a year and I am flooded with memories from a brief moment in time. I have had a lot of crappy birthdays and I have had a handful of amazing ones, mostly due to my long-time friends. I introduced you to those friends for my birthday dinner last year. They got to know you and they loved you. They understood what I saw in you and they understood my happiness.
I wish I could say that I was in a better place this time around. I wish that my heart wasn’t broken still or that it didn’t have fresh wounds from a failed attempt with someone else…. it was not quite truth… not quite love. I wish that you hadn’t chosen her over me. Before you, I hadn’t told anyone that I loved them in over five years. After you, I don’t think I could ever say it again. I use it to describe things. I don’t use it to describe intense feelings for anyone anymore… it always seems to backfire on me.
I’m having difficulties on the eve of this year’s birthday. While I was walking home from work today a flood of images and memories came back. I felt that short burst of joy and I remembered that drop-to-your-knees pain that almost broke me. That was compounded with the disappointment from my failed attempt with L and I found myself running towards the house, hyperventilating with tears streaming down my eyes. I feel so broken inside that I doubt I will be able to repair myself to be able to give so freely again.
I feel alone in my world. Wound upon scarred wound. I can feel myself walling myself in. I know that I’m pushing people further away from me and that I won’t allow myself to unclench my fists figuratively. Inside I’m a numb mess.
How did I allow myself to get to here?