the end.

And they all did not live happily ever after.

It’s over. I couldn’t lie to him anymore and pretend nothing was wrong. And it’s sad and messy.

I won’t go into details. I’ve rehashed it a thousand times. I left. My manager at the bar has a spare room, so I am staying there until I leave for school.

I made the right decision. That doesn’t mean I am not going to expose myself to his begging and anger and manipulations. Because he needs to express that to get over me, And I deserve it for hurting a man I love. Call it self flagellation through others. Which again raises the question: Did I ever really stop cutting myself? Or have I just found other avenues? Avenues for what? I’d prefer not analyze.

This is going nowehere. It’s over. Life will move on and I will get over being miserable. And I am sure he will too. And that is the end of that.