I'm not really sure

why you keep calling me. I was pretty sure we broke the camel's back?

I found this in my notebook this morning:

I stopped writing about you because you stopped calling. I stopped caring about you because I thought you were moving. I stopped hoping I could come with when I thought about it for a second. I stopped loving your lies when I remembered who I was, and I stopped loving you when Smith didn't make me smile anymore.

also found:

I'll never forget how crazy I went over you. I blinded myself for the sake of your beauty. I muted myself to only ever hear you. I tortured myself for if only to love you.

This past month has been spent entirely reconstructing myself. I went through a long period of time where you were all that defined me, and I was afraid to say au revior because I'd been with you for so long. I've found that time means nothing, and even though my comfort level with you is that of a king sized serta my concrete happiness was that of a small pea. It'd be easy to say I'll never love anyone the way I love you and hinder my ability to leave, but i always liked to make things hard, eh? [hehe haha that's what she said.]

I never realized how unreal the concept of a God was until recently. I've been an atheist for years, but sometimes relished in the idea of returning to church. I thought, what if it picks me up? What if I finally get an answer? After spending my childhood praying for things that were important to me and never getting that shit answered, I keep strong in my absense of belief. You were someone I talked ardently to about each of us being our own personal God. We wrote down hours of our conversations and I never saw them again. Now, though, through all of this ending I see what I can do for my own self.

I work a pretty boring job at United Way and then an overly hellish job at Ukrop's. At both jobs I work independently and will rarely be found without a look of distaste. Before I changed my attitude towards the subject I was walking on cobblestones and breaking bones at my own cost. I had just lost one, and you were trying to wedge your way back into my life. I didn't mind because I loved your unexpected reappearances in my life. I just knew that it meant the people we left eachother for weren't what we needed. Oh, what a hopeless romantic I was with you. Even though I was excited for you to be back I was hoping to escape because all I could think about was what I had done wrong to lose the other guy. I'll never really know, but I like to blame it on time management and the fact that I just wasn't what he was looking for, but whatever the case may be I was nothing short of depressed. I was wallowing in my sorrows, throwing dishes in the dishwasher, breaking letter keys on the keyboard, and fucking up my brain. I constantly reminded myself of my mistakes before waking up one day and telling myself YOU ARE CAUSING THIS FUCKTARD.

So, I woke myself up. I told myself how important it was to get the hell out of this ditch. I never prayed once and I never even consulted our heavenly father up above, because I am my own God. Cocky statement, eh? Well, the God that many bow down to daily is that of a selfish hoard who expects complete and utter trust and love returning only about half of that. God loves uncontrollably, correct? He has unconditional love for us all excluding that of gays, people with brains who question him, and those who have never heard his name. Oh, what a merciful and glorious God. Excuse my rudeness, and I apologize for being immature about the subject. I used to question it and still whisper to him in the back of my head, but after this especially I realize how important it is to hold no one above myself.

So, basically you taught me everything about myself, and although sometimes you make me sick to my stomach I love you, and probably will talk you tonight. Haha, but the good thing is this time I won't walk out caring if you talk to me in the morning.