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If I say I'm not struggling, I'm not telling the truth. This is hard. MUCH harder than I anticipated.

I packed up his things. I did it because I need to know that when he comes here tomorrow, he'll be able to get everything out in one fell swoop.

I miss him. Everywhere I go reminds me of us, and that is the hardest thing I've ever faced. People loving each other are all around, and I'm all by myself. Again. And try as I might, it's hard to face it again...this cold, lonely city.

I don't want to keep crying. I really don't. But my heart is so battered right now. And I think the thing that bugs me most is that in spite of the lies, the character assassination, and the disregard of me, I want him with me. I miss him that much. And I hate myself for it.

I know he's not worth my tears or my pain. And yet I sit here and cry and wish we were together and things were lovely.

There's really not too much he could say that would make me believe he wants to be with me. After all, I pressed for this relationship (his words) -- a relationship he clearly wants no parts of. So I know I'm crazy to want it. And him.

And I'm sure this will pass. I'll move on and life will be what it was before him. But today, I'm truly struggling.


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