Take off the filter

I’m pretty sure you’ve already left.

For some reason I thought you would have actually said goodbye.

… Right.

What’s funny is. I’m sure you’ll never even see any of this.

What am I doing, using this?

The funny thing is…

I think I started this so I could make it more of something with actual content rather than constant reblogs, but it’s just fallen into disrepair.

Forget numbering for a second.

You (the only one who knows this exists and see it; huh. HA. HOW DID I NOT REALIZE THE IRONY? Anyway)… I wanted a way to show you something (because I’m ridiculous) and I know you’ll just be all, “Aw,” in the bad way, but I don’t care.

This is young Patrick Dempsey, then older, present Patrick Dempsey.
(I don’t expect you to know him, though you should, which is why you don’t XD
That sounds horrible, I”m sorry… Well, he’s on Grey’s, etc…).

And here’s the thing.

THIS PICTURE IS HOW I KNOW HE’LL (HE’LL) BE ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS WHEN HE GETS OLDER. AUUUUUGH.

HE’LL BE GORGEOUS AND HAVE A WONDERFUL WIFE AND WONDERFUL KIDS AND EVERYONE WILL BE HAPPY HUNKY DORY AND

…

YEAH, I WAS TOTALLY ON THE WAY TO GETTING OVER THIS AND JUNK. YEAH.

…

UGH.

(I really was getting better at this…)

Well, that was clearly pointless.

The entire year, all of it, everything.

All five years of loving him, for nothing.

Sure, a life lesson, things learned…

But all of it. For nothing.

I realize now how petty I had been.
How I wasted so much time being so foolish over little things.

But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it.

He’ll be thousands of miles away.

I’ll be far away, but still.

The worse part of it is

I know that no matter how far away he is

I’ll still care.

I just need to learn to live without him
whether I want to or not

Well, really
I don’t have a choice.

I almost bought you something today.

I never could shake that habit.

I wonder if I’ll ever make this public,

or put that other idea into use.

I wonder if you’d see it.

I know it all makes no sense
I know it’s all some kind of crazy
(Believe me, I know)

But I…

I am some sort of masochist.

As we should have been, long ago.

[So then why “guess” and why “maybe”?]

I ended up very broken.

I know later, somewhere down along the road, I’ll look back at this and laugh. Laugh hard.

But right now, I have to go and heal.

He just doesn’t understand what he does, at all.

And according to him, neither do I.

Okay then.

I know that in the end,
you will be one of the ones
that I will never actually end up with.

Because
you are one of the ones
that is capable of living
fully

and won’t let others
get in the way

not necessarily out of any lack of caring
but you know yourself well enough
to know what you need to do
in order to live.

We were maybe chasing after a pipe dream
That in the end, really wouldn’t have worked

You say you think I don’t want you to treat me like a friend
And part of that is true
But we don’t treat each other well as it is
And I would much rather you treat me as a friend
Than whatever disaster this is

…

I realized I scrawled that into my journal earlier.

…

and WHAT?

He asked if it was his fault
That I’ve been in an emotional thing
And I’m of the mind
That if he has to ask
It’s obviously his fault.

I’m not doing myself any good here.

So you actually IMed me.

You said everything aches

At least yours is physical.

It’s funny, considering the last time we actually spoke online.
I can see that nothing has changed.

I’m berating myself mentally
Why the fuck should you even bother
because

He’s going to go have his amazing body or whatever
And see all of those people
and…

…

All of it really only serves to remind me
to get a fucking life of my own.

Just… damn.