The hardest part of this break up is forcing myself to think about something other than you. It goes against my nature for so long. All the dreams, plans, ideas, gone. All the memories we made, gone, all the laughs and good times, gone. I have to push it all away. In it’s place are thoughts of you with him, in all ways, which leads me to believe it never stopped. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. My love, not good enough, no chance to let it flourish. The love you had for me, is not greater than the love you have for him. He is the guarantee, the safe, the, you know what you’re getting, and that seems to be good for you. Me? No promises, all mystery, and uncertainty, and with that comes fear of being in another failed relationship. The X-Factor is me though, committed, ready to prove, ready to work, ready to love you, push you, support you, and spoil you. Maybe after it’s all said and done, maybe he heard the whispers, and realized that he’s been a fucktard. So now, he’s stepped it up, has finally gotten back to you, and you really love that. Maybe it’s a combination of everything, and you’re fine staying right there because it’s not as bad as it once was, and it’s better then uncertainty. You’ll have your friends, your dogs, your house, and your man. Sounds like a life you’ll be living for a while, and now I have to figure out what to do with everything I thought we had. I am the fool.