Sometimes that's just the way the cookie crumbles. I should have known. I really should have. It's too easy to beat myself up about it now, but there you go. Last week she didn't even bother to show up, calling me way after the fact to let me know she'd been busy. I was so upset, left feeling as though I was too easy to slip her mind because... because, well, I just wasn't important enough. As if I don't already feel that every single moment of my life.
I tried to be OK. I really did, but in the end, I just felt sad.
I think it's ok (is it really?). I can still choose to close doors and walk away, pretend I've left them behind, even if I carry the hurt and pain somewhere in the depths of my facade.
I'm surprised that it has reared its ugly head today and that I find myself so close to tears about an event that has already passed and I would have thought had been buried and given a proper funeral already.
Is it just a bruised ego, and if it is, then why do I question my entire existence? It feels as if my heart would never stop breaking.