I looked through the pictures this morning that Aaron left me and cried and cried and cried. This was after I went to the doctor to get some antibiotics for my now-infected cut on my hand from the wine glass massacre last week, some pills for my skin thingy but not the ones that make me throw up, and some Xanax for the undisclosed forthcoming event. It was a very efficient doctor's visit, my first in years. I am ready to completely lose it.
Sometimes I just stop and think, What have I done, What have I done, What have I done. I know in my heart it was the right thing, but on paper, it doesn't make any sense. When he told me that no one would love me like he does, he was right. When he said that I'll never find anyone who treats me as well as he does, I couldn't disagree. No one is ever going to make the sacrifices that he made for me and that's what I wanted for a long time. Now, I need somebody who can stand on their own two feet. And that might be Aaron once he's been on his own for awhile--we've talked about a month, then three months, then six months, as much time as I need to figure things out. And I don't know what I'm going to figure out.
Less then a week ago, I was two months away from getting engaged. Now I'm single for the first time in almost five years, I've quit smoking, I've given up my dogs (I'm in custody of Damien right now, but Aaron will take them eventually). I had everything I ever wanted, and I gave it all up because I wasn't sure that I wanted it anymore.
If you ever want to know how strong I am, know this: I quit smoking four days before my period started, which means that I was majorly PMSing and craving the most ridiculous foods and wasn't eating or smoking or killing anyone. I can do fucking anything I want.