So I guess now you're really gone.

I feel crippled. I feel so alone. I miss you so much. And it is so easy for you to let me go. It just isn't fair. Why do I have so much pain? What did I do to deserve this position? Why do I mean so little to people who mean so much to me? To whom I have given so much?

How am I the only one who will do the right thing, this whole year? And at my own expense?

God, I am just a giant void.

I carry no weight or meaning. No consequence. People love me and leave me like a used up old rag. Something that's use has just run out.

Something no one will love. I am too broken and busted.

I feel like I just martyred myself for the least worthy cause. Someone who never treated me with any like respect.

And I am so sad. So sad. I feel like nothing. I feel like I just don't mean anything at all. I am not a friend and I am not loved.

I am lost.

I am pretty sure I will be alone forever.

I am not lovable.

What is wrong with me?

I have been turned off like a switch, like I never lived, like I never mattered.

And that is the best I am ever going to get.

Off.

You ignored me today.

And, although it is surely good for me, I am heartbroken.

I am really heartsick. I feel a pit in my stomach. But what could I expect?

I dreamt of you last night.

And I miss you so. So.

I guess it is just so hard (too hard?) to really get it that we don't ever get to be happy again.

I think that is the hardest part for me to grasp. It just never seemed like that was going to be true. That a happy me and you wasn't around the corner somewhere. Our happy again. I guess it is dead, but it is hard to mourn something to intangible. It's confusing to try and believe a hope is dead.

I guess I am not so angry that you and she do get to be happy still. That your "you" is still around. It just puts my own loss in such harsh perspective. It casts the most punishing awful light on my pain, on the lack on my hopes and dreams' little sad unmarked grave.

How do I get there? How do I get there?

I am so scared and confused and disgusted with myself.

I am so scared.

I wish I could talk to you. I wish you were mine. I feel so alone.

God I am such a failure.

I want my old life back.

I want to be someone else.

I want to be comforted.

I miss you.

I just want to feel ok about one thing. One thing. One thing. Anything.

It seems like something inside of me might just be ready to blow--a sluggish, imperceptible piece of my landscape just on the brink of a major shift. It leaves me unsettled, shaky, anxious and...angry?

I feel a second wind of anger and hate, and I say hate without meaning a petty assessment of whether or not I LIKE you. It's worse. It is all vengeance and violence and rage. It only is the part of hate that happens right at the moment of crisis, when someone snaps.

I feel it. I feel that. I feel SO MUCH ANGER.

Not in my head, in my body. Maybe this is a good thing. But it feels...crazy. My brain can hardly work up a snarl of anger when I have been silver-platter served good reason to feel angry. Like I was last week.

But my body? Feels like something is bubbling under my skin. I can feel it in my wrists. My joins wobble like a hangover with something they don't know how to contain.

But my words are not so angry.

Truly.

It's like my rational brain and my wounded heart win out over my righteous (and right) bodily reaction. I want to make peace and heal. I want to move on. I want to be on good terms.

But my body can feel how you want to string me along. Not even consciously. But you DON'T LOVE ME. I won't even tap your inability to love or the painfully probable fact that your pathological selfishness really means you don't love anyone. Not today I won't. But you sure as heck don't love me.

You don't want me. Didn't want me. Maybe ever. Not really. You don't wish you had made a different choice. You don't wish I hadn't moved. You don't wish I was there instead of her. You don't need or want me except for how it makes you feel to lose me, to not have me as a member of your adoring public.

You don't want ME at all. You don't miss ME at all. You are totally cool until I back off then your stunned ego reels me back in. DON'T DO IT!

It is so much more SERIOUS than that. This is my LIFE! I can't ever put my shattered heart back together if you keep slapping it around like your ego's favorite sport. Please, the one decent thing you can do now is not lead me on.

Remember when you said that?

Don't lead me on. Didn't you do enough of that this past YEAR? A year you dragged my little glowing heart through the mud and now it is ragged and beaten and wheezing. You made it glow! Then you threw it in a dungeon. If that makes you hurt then stop doing it again! Just let it sputter back to life as whatever second-hand version of it's old glorious self it can manage.

We are not friends. You are my painful, painful ex. My missing piece. I am not the one that got away.

You made your choice.

Currently I feel to sad, confused and sick to blog. My heart rate is erratic and my blood pressure is high for the first time in my life (seriously, I got a physical yesterday).

I feel like I am about to explode.

I don't know what to do with my insides!

If you loved me so much. So deeply. When did you stop?

Huh?

When did that end?

When I behaved badly? Why try so hard to get me back for so long.

When I moved? Why promise me all you did? Do all that you did.

Or not until you had to choose? A love that only defines itself like that sounds like bullshit. For her and for me.

Cheap, whimsied, changeable bullshit.

Which is what it is.

You and she can both just wrap yourselves in your new me-less existence, telling yourself it is simple as you choosing the one you love MORE, and that it is so real and great, but it is hollow bullshit. You have to tell yourself that to make yourself not feel like a monster. She has to tell herself that to be happy with you, because otherwise she is a fool staying with a monster.

Me? I don't have to tell myself that. I get nothing out of it. You are a monster.

What kind of person can carry on with me like that, and her like that. If you tell yourself you just love her so much, you are more desolate inside that even I thought. You aren't capable of loving anyone more than yourself.

This is all a farce to stroke your ego. You can say it isn't, but that is what is expected of someone who spends their life lying to themselves.

I say all this and know it is true. Know it in my bones. You have kept me strung along even now, with what? Friendship? Really? You think you are my friend? I am yours? No, it is your fateful, doomed warship of an ego. You have never acted on what would be best for ANYONE but yourself.

I say all this and know it is true. You are scary selfish. You are alarmingly deceitful and out of touch with a conscience. You ARE scary.

And still, like a drug there is no rehab for, I want you. I miss you. I love you.

I am sorry even now for saying all of this, even though I KNOW it is true. And anyone who knows the truth about you and this situation knows it, too. Except there are hardly any of those around. You and me and her, but most of that group are in some pretty solid denial about what you are.

I AM sorry my friend lashed out at you or reached out to you or threatened you (though I highly doubt there was a threat made) but that is the ONLY person who has confronted you with your abominable inhuman behavior. You DO deserve it. You don't want people to confront you? Quit treating the people they love like shit. You are lucky so few people have any idea what a creep you have been. You are living a safe little lie where the people around you have no idea what kind of dark, soul-eating, self-serving creature lives behind your crooked smile.

I am sorry.

I am just having a bout of anger. My body and brain trying to mask the pain, I suppose. That is, after all, what anger is. Just a secondary emotion, a false front to sorrow. One last adrenaline boost to keep you from crumbling.

Just collapsing under the weight of all the conflicting feelings.

Under all the alone.

I am so sad today that I feel sick.

My body keeps betraying me.

It's like I AM one big memory of you. A hollow, tinny shell of me, a vessel for old, wispy pieces of us.

I miss being happy with you. God I was so happy. I was so happy. I can't honestly even imagine it again. I can hardly remember it accurately.

I never sleep. I lay down, a drink in, feel exhausted and still, my bed feels like a tomb. Like a place my subconscious goes to die, over and over and over.

My sister told me that counting, even backwards as I do, wasn't enough to try and keep you at bay when I am trying to rest. So, I try states and cities, capitols and fruit names. Times tables. You'd be surprised how many states start with A. Ok, not that many but I made the mistake of trying to alphabetize them.

No matter what, as soon as my guard is down: there you are. Why does my body hate me so? It gives me chills and sweats, makes me toss and turn and twitch. Literally, its like I am in shock, withdrawal. Only it won't stop.

I am not a part of your life. At all. Why can't you just not be a part of mine? She writes on your FB so much now, asserting her position. Warding me off. She's right to do it.

You two finally have what you and I never did. A relationship with just two people in it.

I shouldn't miss something like that.

But I do.

Good god, I miss you every day. Sometimes only fleeting. Sometimes I need you all day, like a nicotine addict aching for a cigarette.

I swear I would give up everything to just get to lay down with someone who loves me and be comforted. But that person doesn't exist and maybe he never did.

On the bright side, stirrup tights are the greatest thing that ever happened.

I feel hopeless. Totally lost.

Totally lost and overwhelmed and fucking so starkly lonely.

Bleak.

Today is bad. Bad bad bad.

Today the hurt feels fresh.

Suck.

I want to just duck out of my life. I want to get to lay down and cry for a really.long.time. I want to get to quit.

Where are you?

Where is my escape key?

And fucking fuck facebook for feeding me all those "photo memories" on my side bar. And things people "like." You are all over it.

You are EVERYWHERE.

Mostly bc you are in me. And I can't get away from me!

Shit.

By this time I would've thought you would have come to visit.

To see your face.

But instead, now, I have to get used to never seeing it again.

Never.

How do I do that? Go from one to the other?

I remember, after talking to you in the morning, laying in bed, nuzzling my pillow and kind of stroking my sheets, thinking of you. Glowing from the love I felt, the happiness you brought me. I would curl into it.

Now I hate waking up. Even in the middle of the night, after I find myself just staring bug-eyed at nothing. Restless. Consumed with missing you even when I am not consciously thinking of it. Of anything.

Maybe you miss me. But not because you wish I was there. Just because I am not. I wish. I wish. I wish.

I don't even know what I would wish for. It has been so long.

For that Saturday back? That day that was the best and the worst. That you "changed your mind" about me? I think that is so unfair. That's what I did wrong here. What about all that you had done to get me there? That night, even. How do we overlook the lying you did even then. Told me you'd come over in an hour. Then never came. That is so creepy. Told me you were having a beer and painting. Just lies lies lies.

God why did you ever date me. Why did you ever get me back. Why did you try so hard. I was never it. Why did you EVER date me.

Just confused? Didn't know what you wanted? My whole life, my sense of self, my self esteem, my confidence in my future, my affection for my past, my plans, my life, oh that pile of wet dust that is my heart...kind of a high price to pay for your whim.

I don't know how to stop loving you.

I don't know how to stop missing you.

I don't know how to be ok with you have stopped.

I feel so lonely. So deep and rocky lonely.

I hate waking up.

You might miss me, but...not that much. You don't wish I was around. You don't second guess your choice. You're happy.

I am so not. I guess and doubt and wonder.

I miss you like that.

I miss you so FUCKING FUCKING FUCKfuckfuckfuck fuck.

Maybe I just miss the idea of Helen. No, I miss the whole Helen.

You're life is so...normal now.

Its so weird to think. That anyone's life after this is...normal.

You are happy. And, love or not, now or then or never...whatever. You are happy now. Lucky to have the life you have. The person you have. Lucky.

I am traildust. And I can't help but hate you for it. I am a waste product on a path that led you to happy.

And that is what I feel like. Shit.

think i'm going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
i don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
i could make you happy you know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do

tell you the truth i prefer
the worst of you
too bad you had to have a better half
she's not really my type
but i think you two are forever
and i hate to say it but
you're perfect together

so fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
and who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
and who am i
i bet you can't even tell me that much

two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
neon sign on the horizon
rubbing elbows with the moon
a safe haven of sleepless
where the deep fryer's always on
radio is counting down
the top 20 country songs
and out on the porch the fly strip is
waving like a flag in the wind
y'know, i don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
you'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
and i won't know what to do
and i won't know what to say

except fuck you...

i see you and i'm so perplexed
what was i thinking
what will i think of next
where can i hide
in the back room there's a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
and when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
there's a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
i see orion and say nothing
the only thing i can think of saying

is fuck you...

-a. difranco