Well, I'm still here, and she hasn't said anything to me after I told her that 'All she has to do is say that she never wants to see me again, and I would leave her alone, and never bother her again.' No reply. She's doing one of three things, thinking about it, still pissed, or taking the coward's way out (ignoring or too scared --not of me, but of the emotions to reply). I had a hard day (emotionally) at work, I wanted to die, but my body just kept going. I saved every text from her, every line written, all the pics too (no not nudes, I never asked for that, and doubt she would have sent them anyway). I don't know why I am suddenly so enamored by her. Was it the way she tasted, smelled, or looked when I made love to her? The way she gasped and said my name in ecstacy? All of it? Probably. I'm desperately trying to stop myself from texting her, and I doubt she'll text me back anyway. Maybe she's enacting some latent revenge thing, treating ...
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Sick of hurting....every. gods. damned. day.
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I, A Divided Man In Time Having never done this before --aside from posting some forgotten scribing on here, or somewhere else, I guess I'll start off hard and see where this goes. I am sick of being alive. I've felt this way since the birthday I turned 18, sat there and asked myself, "What are you going to do with the rest of your life?" Unbidden, a voice in my mind spoke back, "...Now that it's half over." This shook my to my core, 36 short years. I had dealt with that nagging clock, and when I turned 36, I was almost relieved that it was going to end. I waited, on my 36th birthday, at the start of 2007. Nothing happened, and for once I was glad to be alive. I had a girlfriend/fiancee; we had moved in together, and were considering our possibilities, marriage, a family, growing old together. We laughed that I would become that 'dirty old man' and she would be my 'eye-rolling-yet-smiling-gilf.' Almost two decades later, post-marriage. T...