Really. I mean, really! How the fuck do I get through this? It absolutely *kills me* to see someone I love and care for feel rejected by me.
Something people rarely come to know about me is the immensity of my soft spot. There's a ridiculous tenderness to my heart.
I used to ask my parents to buy me the stuffed animals that had little defects -- like a missing eye or ear or something -- because I thought they might not otherwise be loved. If a fucking one-eyed stuffed penguin can get to me, imagine what a live human being does.
Sometimes, I wonder why this old heart of mine hasn't gotten calloused yet. I feel so totally wretched. I think I'm getting sick.
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2 comments:
Sounds as if you and I have something in common: a soft spot for the strays and the runts.
It is an oddity of being the one to do the breaking up -- no one really feels sorry for you, but you still have all this greiving to do PLUS the guilt.
Hang in there, dear.
Strays, runts and ... crazy people.
So true about the grief *and* guilt.
Muchisimas gracias...
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