My life, is exactly explained in the above title. This morning I woke up, energized, ready to take on the world, and super happy. I made good decisions last night. Thats right, I made good decisions. This girl.
The Jamaican texted me yesterday around 6pm, and told me he wanted to get a hotel room for us. I still haven’t seen him in person since I have been with my BF. I agreed to the hotel room because I was in full fuck it mode, and I wanted revenge, and I wanted amazing sex and I wanted to be fucking selfish. I went home and showered, shaved, powdered, perfumed, did my make-up etc.
Around midnight he texted me, and said he had purchased the hotel room. By then, I was naked in bed half asleep. He called me, and I said I’d get up, get ready and meet him. I got up, got some lounge clothes on, then climbed back into bed. I called him and told him I couldn’t come. I was too tired. In reality I felt like God was like, listen bitch, if you even go there, consider this relationship with your BF done. So, I didn’t go. I had a conscious last night, and I have not had that kind of clairity in a long time. I felt fucking great when I woke up this morning. I MADE GOOD CHOICES!
On my way to work, I left BAE a VM telling him how much I loved him and how I miss him. About 2 minutes later I left him an 8 minute VM on how I felt about our relationship. How I felt mislead in places (maybe my misunderstanding), how I felt vulnerable etc. I bounced into work, coffee in hand, smoked a cigarette with my co-worker and told her how proud I was of myself, and everything was back on track.
In my mind I thought the BF would say, “Baby, I do want to marry you. We will move together up North, with the kids, and I will find another job there, everything will be fine.” But that wasn’t the case. He just said he wants to take our time, and everything will be fine. I will listen to that VM like 800 times until I hear from it what I want to hear, or until it completely destroys me. Right now, I am hurting inside, my bubble has burst, I just want to run away.
It is Eid today, Our Muslim holiday. I miss my husband. I miss my old life. I miss security. Financially. Emotionally. I miss my friends. I miss all this things my BPD fucked up for me. I fucked up.
My anxiety is crippling, I am exhausted. I just want to curl up in bed and cry until my BF gives me what I want and I do not feel so fucking rejected. Even though I know, deep down inside, this should take time. But I tell myself stories that make this whole thing worse. It’s times like this I wish I could just die of natural causes, and disappear.
But my kids need me more than ever.