Broken Doll

So we had one of those relationship conversations where I’m not surprised by anything he tells me, he doesn’t tell me anything I don’t already know, and I’m stunned by how much it hurts me to hear it anyway. It hit me like a punch to the face, and I say nothing, because what am I going to say? “Actually, I thought I was okay with this, but I want to change the rules”? Well, he doesn’t, so it’s a particularly useless thing to say.

And there’s nothing to do about it either. If I leave all I’m doing is depriving myself of his support and whatever small physical comforts I get now, and end up with nothing. It’s not like I’m able to just run out and find someone else while I’m sick, bald, fat, and ugly. It’ll be months, at least, before that’s even an option. Nevermind that I fly under everyone’s “has potential” radar even when I am healthy. Nevermind that I can’t fall for someone while still in love with someone else. Even after being dormant for months — I honestly thought I was okay — those feelings remain and fuck it, if after three years and all of this they still won’t let me go, they never will. They never will.

For the first time since all of this started I find myself wishing it had just killed me before we found it. At least I’d have been happy when I died.