Thanksgiving Heartbreak-Up
1:50 p.m. | Oct. 08, 2007

I never seem to learn. Like a fool, I wait and I wait for you to give one damn about me, but you never do. I always think, "Okay, this is it, this time he'll remember how much he loves me. This time he'll prove it to me..." And I test you by waiting for you to text me first. Or to show up online when you say you're going to. Or to give me a friendly call. And every single time I'm met with utter and complete silence. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that I constantly convince myself that this time, this time, it's going to be different.

It isn't. Days go by without a word. I know I'm less than a friend to you. I know that I'm someone that sits in the back of your mind, someone who wants to be in your heart, but never is. Maybe I put too much expectation on you and you can feel it and you run from it. Whatever the reason, I'd like to somehow convince myself that I don't mean to you what you mean (have meant) to me.

It's Thanksgiving. My so-called 'relationship' is in shambles, only he doesn't seem to know it. He wanders through my computer screen thinking that what we have, this two dimensional world, is enough. But it isn't. Not for me. It's Thanksgiving and he and I have been together for exactly 11 months. Each of which I waited for him to notice just once that the months are going by. Every month on the 8th, I end the day saying, "Happy [insert correct number here] Anniversary." To be met with silence. And an apology. I don't care so much about it, but six months was a milestone for me. And here it is a month away from being a year, and I just don't think I can hold on anymore. I've been holding on for long enough.

I'm still mad as hell at how things went the last time I visited him. I hold it against him, in my secret heart of hearts. I still wonder how he could do such a thing, how he could treat me that way, and I'm not satisfied with the answers he gives me. So he was drunk. So? So he doesn't remember. So?! Is that somehow supposed to make me forget the evil words he hurled at me? The crying in the streets, and begging strangers for help, because I wasn't sure he was going to carry through with what he said he was going to do? Does it erase the 45 minutes I sat in the back of a cab, wailing? Does it erase the days I spent in a strange hotel room, in a strange hotel bed, crying, crying, crying? I showered twice a day, had a bath every day, I tried to wash the way I was feeling out of my hair, off my skin. I love him. Breaking up is harder than anything we've gone through, which seems impossible, but it is. But I can't keep holding this hatred inside of me. It turns into jealousy, and silly accusations. I make him suffer in every other way because I can't make him suffer for that. He can't possibly make up for it right now, with him being thousands of miles away, and my heart cannot heal over an ocean.

So, on the Day of Thanks and exactly one month away from our one year anniversary, I've decided that I can't do this anymore. Now let's see how long it takes before I actually tell him.