I Thought I Was Special

It is one of those moments where I find my strength wavering.  I love him.  I have an overwhelming feeling of love and hope.  Surely we can make this work.  Surely.  Surely there is a way I can heal him.  Surely we can do this. 

I have to tell myself in my head I fell in love with the created self.  Not the real one.  And actually there isn’t a real one that actually exists.  To admit that to myself literally fills me with an overwhelming urge to sob and sob.  I believed it.  All of it.  Every word that left his mouth.

I though I was special.  I thought I was his girl.  I thought I was the only one.  I felt it in every part of me.  Though he still wants me, I fail to make him happy.  He is mad at me, in love with me, wanting me and all I want it to fall into his arms and for all this to be wrong. 

It has been over three months since we officially split and even now, these moments come and grab me when I least expecting them.  Sometimes it’s a song, sometimes the words someone says, sometimes a place, a smell or an experience.  Sometimes it just happens and I am not sure where it comes from. 

I feel tested.  These are the moments when I have to remind myself that I was in love with and want the dream.  It isn’t him.  It is the hope of what I thought I might have.

I can have it again.  I have to believe it.  I will keep remembering, keep writing and keep up the strength.  I have to, to recover. 

I just wish he could.