A confession more than anything.

Just because you have everything now, doesn't mean you are immune from one day being left with nothing. It was only once he'd left that I realised I'd loved him all along and that he had truly hurt me but I had already forgiven him. I was holding a grudge only because I believed that I hadn't fully recovered. Psychological fact: all emotional pain lasts 12 minutes, anything beyond that is self inflicted. In those last few minutes, where I watched him grab his things and walk out my door, I saw the chain of consequences of my letting him go before they could even happen. I wanted to yell it, I wanted to tell him 'stay', I wanted him to know that I had forgiven him and that it was going to be okay. As I sat on the floor in my kitchen with a bottle of Vodka, I waited, I waited for my sight to blur and my speech to slur. But then I realised, as if it was so god damn obvious, I was waiting for him to come back. I looked at myself and I said to me 'You need to move on, because he doesn't give a fuck about you'. So a part of me stood up and then my body followed and I walked down my hallway and straight out the front door and I jogged down my street and turned a few corners then I sprinted, as fast as I possibly could, straight into the arms of someone else. Because I am incapable of being alone.