This is the fourth time we've broken up. I'm sorry. I'm hoping this is the last one though. Because I'm so tired of it all. And I hate myself for not being able to make up my mind. I'm that weak, that pathetic. I'm so sorry you had to meet me. I'm so sorry for putting you through all of that.
I got home today from work and I couldn't stop crying for an hour. I wanted to call you. I wanted to see you. I wanted to see your face and touch the stubbles on your cheeks. I wanted to press my face to your chest. It's impossible, I know. And I realise that maybe this break up is necessary.
I keep going back and forth to our good and bad times. Funny how the good times haunt me more now. I remember the first time you touched my hand. I remember how you would kiss my forehead. I still have the chips you got me from the Filipino store. Would I ever eat them now?
I am finding strength to continue. And then I go back to zero and I succumb to sending you a message. This lack of self-control must end. It will take time. But I know I will do it. I don't care how many silly quotes I put on my wall. But I will end this. I will no longer have to depend on you.
I am currently debating if I should start seeing other people right away or not. Of course, the obvious thing is not to do so. I have to "heal myself" first, right? But damn, there's so many papis out there. Haha.
I will try and document my progress through this blog. Hoping for positive results.
For now, I have to go back to writing an essay.
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