It's been hard.
He really took all of his fucking flaming little shit, right down to the bed that his mother gave us both for Christmas. I was seething about it for awhile, but in a way I'm glad now. I have many new things to replace everything he's taken, and i've rearranged my (it's so hard to remember to singularize myself...i really typed our :( ) room, so the vibe is new and different.
He actually took my retarded cat though. I have very mixed emotions about it. On one hand I really actually loved the bastard, so I realize he must be pained missing the rest of the cats that I am keeping. But it was my baby, and I don't believe he has the time or continuity to treat it the way it deserves.
I caved yesterday and asked him if he'd date me again, but without moving back in. He didn't seem to want to, but said he'd think about it and talk to me today. There was no call, and only a short message on IM about how he was going to sleep, so I shouldn't call, but he'd talk to me tommorow. That doesn't sound hopeful, and in a way I'm relieved. I couldn't quite articulate why, but then I read a quote which said something to the effect that relationships are like glass...sometimes when they're broken it's better to just give up than to hurt yourself more trying to put it back together.
It's hard to watch the life I thought I'd have die though. He told me so many grand promises, and I actually felt the kind of connection that made me believe them, and as such made a promise with my soul that is hard to un make. Despite how badly it was going, and even up through this very fucking minute, I love him with every fiber of my aching body. That doesn't make him the kind of man I need, nor does it make him "good" for me, but the ache, the hole he's left in my heart cries out for him.
I swing between moments of complete clarity and darkness, knowing one moment that I am better off without him in my life, then still finding myself sobbing into my dinner the next because one more thing has reminded me of what I've lost.
On the up side I'm having coffee with a couple of my oldest friends that I haven't seen in a long time tommorow. It'll be a vagina fest over here, but I think that might be just what I need. Some sympathy and good old fashioned man bashing, plus the opportunity to hear someone *elses* sad stories for awhile.
For now though, I must retire to bed with a frappachino and a vicodin, because I've humped alot of shit around (with lots of help from my savior of a best friend who's been with me daily since this catastrophe started) in the last two days, and I'm starting to feel it rather acutely.
