I'm getting better

I must be. I think I am. I have to be.

Monday evening when I got home from work I went and lay on my bedroom floor until it got dark. I didn't say anything, didn't move...but I had a playlist on youtube going on my phone of doddleoddle and her music.

As I lay there, I thought about what it would probably look like if someone walked in and saw me like that, lying amidst a pile of laundry bags, unmoving and unmovable. It would probably look like I was sinking into a dark hole of depression, like there was something terribly wrong with me.

But it was my way of digging myself out of the hole. It's like I said. She sits on the floor because there's nowhere lower or more solid for the hard days.

And sometimes, when sitting isn't enough, she lies down.

It's been a week...seven days...since the breakup, and what I tell myself is "look how much better you're doing already. It's only been a week, and look how okay you are." It feels like it's been a month since that happened...but I've hung out with him twice since then. At least it's not awkward anymore. The first time was quite awkward indeed...at least for the first half hour or so. The second time, we went out to do Postmates and it was okay. At the end of that evening, though, I realized that we both need space. I could recognize certain signs in him that I give off when I need space. And I had started feeling that way too.

So space there is. I'm not going to seek him out again. I need to get back to doing things on my own. That was how I functioned best. (I mean, we still text). But being alone is my M.O., and I clearly don't do well by being around people all the time. It causes me to become dependent on them, and then I lose the ability to function properly without them. It mustn't happen again.

I have to start having things happen in my life without him, or other people around.

I'm going to be okay, and everything is going to go back to normal.

The only thing is I feel like it's my fault that it went wrong.... like, (hear me out now) I shouldn't have said anything about how I felt, because it started the whole thing (that was nice while it lasted) but then I mentioned something about a diner, and it reminded him about her...and then something about the best burger place...and just...maybe it would have been better if I had never said anything, because now he's depressed on top of all the things he's dissatisfied with in his life. I don't want him to be unhappy, and it feels like if I had never said anything then he would have been happily going on dates with that girl he met on Tinder, (even though he kept telling me how she wasn't "wow-ing" him) and yeah, maybe he would have gotten in another relationship and realized he wasn't ready and it all would have ended up the same way, but I still feel like it's my fault that he's hurting...and that he's going to realize it and decide not to talk to me anymore.

And I thought about trying to cut him out, at least for a little while, but the only thing that's stopping me from doing that is (not the fact that he explicitly asked me not to) that when I think about that, that hurts worse than talking to him actually does.

Although today when I think about it, maybe it's not so bad. We're just both in such effed up mental states right now. I guess I just need to let it go. Does having sex with someone imply that you're connected? Nope. It doesn't have to. But what if you were best friends first? Nope. Because for guys it's never the same. So it doesn't matter.

What would he see in me to want to stick around? What do I see in him? I dunno. I think he's cool. I like him. Maybe he just thinks I'm cool too.

I wish I could just have it go back to a hundred percent normal, but that's going to probably take more than a week, and well, I just want us not to be sad anymore.