You never know when it’s changing for good, and what you thought would be a forever something, turns into something from the past, slipping away from your grip until it’s replaced by cordialities and mock politeness. And you can’t pinpoint exactly when it changed, but it must’ve been gradually, somehow sneaking by without you noticing, until it becomes the grand fucking canyon and the separation is too wide to be fixed. and any attempt to fix it makes it worse, you’re being too suffocating, or you should’ve said it sooner, but how could you have said it sooner when you didn’t know this was happening? How can it be too late when you didn’t even know you were running out of time in the first place? And then you’re friends, okay, fine. Friends. But it doesn’t feel like that, not to you, because it’s to intense and instead of suffocating the other person you’re suffocating yourself with these thoughts and regrets and it becomes so internal. and you try to avoid talking about anything of substance with them at all, but then not even a friendship is there, just two acquaintances with unspoken bitterness and hurt feelings.
This is where I'm at right now with my breakup?
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What Girls Said 1
Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore-- despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have 'that thing' even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that's it. You have now reached infatuation's final destination-- the complete and merciless devaluation of self.. This is where I'm at with my heartbreak, so ur not alone 😢0
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