I Hate This

Earlier I went into the NERD room, and found that Corey had taken all of my stuff out of the closet there and just kind of piled it up for me.  Ostensibly he was just trying to help me pack, since I'm leaving in a week, but still, it kinda fucking killed me.  It was just kind of a reminder that this is what he wants, and I think that's what makes it difficult: there is still a very big part of me that just cannot believe that this is actually what he wants.  I can't wrap my head around the fact that he's just . . . over it.  And seeing all of my things separated out and piled up like I was nothing was a big, visual reminder that this is what he wants.  I think deep down I've always hoped that he'd change his mind and ask me to stay and work it out--I mean, I knew that wasn't going to happen, but still.  Subconsciously maybe.  But I know that that wouldn't be a solution; I know that if he asked me to stay and I did things would be just like they were before and that . . . would not be good.  I still hope and think that my leaving and this space will do us some good but . . . I feel like I'm beginning to believe that less and less.

It's one thing to say, yes, I'm packing, and yes, I'm going to leave.  But it's quite another to actually do it and to see it happening.  Besides, I had REALLY wanted to pack on my own fucking terms.  I was so stressed about it that I wanted to do it without his input and now that's ruined and I'm even more stressed about it.  Plus I feel like Corey's rushing me and I don't want that.  I don't want to feel like he wants me gone.

But I think he does.  I think he really does and more and more my gut feeling is that this is really it.  That it's over.  That I'm going to leave for Flagstaff and really just not hear from him again.  And it makes me miserable.  It makes me more miserable than I can say.  Seeing our things separated just hurts . . . I remember when we moved in together last year and combined our things, and we were so dorkily excited about it.  And now he gets to keep that beautiful life and I get to go back the same shit I had before I met him.

I feel like I got this two year window where I saw what I COULD have if I tired.  Where I saw what my life COULD be if I wanted it to be.  But I never tried hard enough and now I hate myself for that so. fucking. much.  I look at Corey and I just feel like . . . I've lost him.

And he'll move on.  He'll find someone else, and he'll treat her just as well as he treated me, only she won't be a fucking psycho.  I imagine him bringing her here and her sitting on this couch and sleeping next to him in our bed and I . . . well, I kinda want to die.  I won't lie.