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I know he didnapos;t ever mean to do it.

I know heapos;s upset, or will be after his defense mechanism of going numb wears off, about his own loss of identity in his actions. Before Honduras, he would abhorred actions like his.

And I know I canapos;t demand that he care about my pain when he canapos;t even get past his own.

But heapos;s not in the picture anymore.

I allowed myself to sob alone on my roof Saturday night. I sat with wine, an ipod playing all the sad songs I havenapos;t allowed myself to hear, and sobbed. Loud, long, aching pain I had encased in other priorities.

Because I donapos;t have time to be upset. I have so much on my agenda, so many wonderful things that I dont want him to taint.

...Things I had imagined sharing with him.

Heapos;s not a fighter. I am. And I want, and deserve someone who fights for me.

And there is other pain. My cat passed away.

My grandfather is dying. Slowly and awfully. Its such a different kind of pain. But again, I dont have time to grieve and I am trying not to. He loves me, in such a wonderful way. And I know him. Heapos;s a fighter. And proud. He wouldnapos;t want to be a burden in any way. I love him. So much.

As I sobbed, I deleted every single contact in my phone that would connect me to him. Now, if, there would be anymore, he will have to reach out. I want it that way. I have cut myself enough with my attempts to share my love with him.

...He doesnt want it anyway.

I take it day to day. I try not to look for his face. I catch myself noticing his car, not his car, but one like it. I mentally kick myself each time.
"He couldnapos;t, wouldnapos;t, and didnapos;t try to love you like you deserve. Itapos;s time for new love. Start again."

I hate him a little. But feel bad about him a lot.

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