Casey’s Journal Part 8

December 4, 2014

It’s been a few weeks now. Things are starting to improve, I think. I don’t spend every night crying on your empty pillow. Every once in a while I have a day free of tears.

Most of our friends have learned about our breakup. For this I am thankful, they don’t bring you up when I ‘m around. They all look at me as if I’m fragile, and at the moment your name leaves their mouth, I might shatter. They aren’t wrong.

I know this is what we needed. It wasn’t working anymore, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. We had built a life together; I haven’t pictured a future without you, in three years. We had said we were going to get married, have a couple of kids. What happened to us?

I know what happened to us. After all, I lived it.

I’ve been trying to pinpoint the exact moment it started to fall apart. Was it the night we had our first big fight? Your mom wanted you to spend Christmas with the family. You hadn’t seen them in years. I know I was being selfish, but I wanted to spend the holidays with the person I was in love with, and we both knew I wasn’t welcomed there.

We had been together for a little over two years then, and we had spent those last two Christmas’s with my family. They loved you as much as they loved me, and I wished your family could have done the same with me.

Or was it when I picked a fight with you a month later. I accused you of flirting with the waitress, at the restaurant we had our first date in. I see now you were acting the way you always acted. I had never gotten this jealous before, but then again you stopped making me feel like I was the only one you had eyes for.

It goes on from there. I’ve been analyzing every fight after that. They started to get more frequent and more vicious. Every day turned into us pushing each other away more, and more.

We were both equally to blame, our pride starting becoming more important to us than keeping our love alive. We both wanted to win, to be right. I’m starting to think we were both wrong.

I doesn’t really matter how it fell apart at this point, all that matters is that it’s over. You’re not here, and I’m alone. Days are passing without me being aware of the time, and I’m not sure where to go from here.

To be continued…

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