Why do you insist on breaking my heart?

Another fun filled morning with Mother, complete with more words designed to tear me down.

It has worked. Now stop.

I'm losing my shimmer.

I feel like less of Therese. Like all my personality and laughter and love and just overall shimmer is dimmed. I'm worried and stressed.

I hope I don't lose myself completely.

Compulsively obsessive.

I am on another one of my manic bursts again; I've been writing adn reading with a furvor I haven't had in a while. I'm not worried or upset about it, quite the opposite, I'm overjoyed at my new obsession with one of my loves. I really hope to apply this new burst of creative enthusiasm to my other arts-- and to academics, I guess.

I've been looking into fine art schools abroad and in other states, I've got my heart set on a few places, and a friend suggested to me a school I've never considered. Julliard. I don't know why I've never considered it as an option, I'm a triple threat and then some; I suppose I've always just assumed taht while I'm good at all of them, there will always be someone better.

That's not going to be my thinking anymore; if I don't deserve it, they'll be hard pressed to find someone better. I'm gonna knock everything I do out of the park. Watch me.

This is the first week of my life.

I've turned a new leaf. I'm determined, driven and focused now. Eyes on the prize. Which is good because I'm done with bad decisions and worse company.

I've got so many things to do, and not much time to do them. At least not if I intend to take over the world before I'm 35.

Let's get this show on the road shall we?

Tonight and the rest of my life...

...I'm gonna love me more than I love someone else.
...I'm going to do what I need before I consider what someone else wants.
...I'm going to be the baddest bitch I can.
...I'm going to write more often, even if it's just flow of consciousness drivel.
...I'm never going to sell myself short.
...I'm never going to settle.
...I'm going to stick to my guns.
...I won't give in.

...is mine, and I'm doing it right.

I'll have you know

I've grown in all of this. This heartbreak and whatevership nonsense I've put myself through. I've learned all kinds of things.

I've learned what I want and don't want in a boyfriend. I've learned that I am exactly as feminine, sexy, and loveable as I want to be. I've learned that there is such a thing as a person who cares about you enough to know what you want before you want it.

I've also learned that in the event of heartbreak, I've got the best support network anyone could ever ask for. I've learned that hopes and prayers aren't always enough. I've learned that sometimes we just need to let go and let God.

I've learned that it's ok to be afraid to love, but it's not ok to let that hold me back. I've learned that someone not loving you back in the way you want them to isn't the end of your life, it's just a temporary road block-- once you're done letting it define you, it'll dissipate.

I've learned it's okay to wallow, but only for a little bit. I've learned that when you want to cry and scream, to ask your best friend to do it with you, she has stuff to unleash too.

Finally, I've learned that I love him, and I love him for teaching me just how much I love myself and how right I am to do so. Thank you for that, if I can ever repay the favor, please let me know.

Breaking my own heart.

It just doesn't get any easier. No matter what vague advice or psuedo-fortune cookie like bullshit I feed myself. I can blame timing, hormones, and fucking Nicholas Sparks for all I want, but it won't change the fact that I'm hurt.

I'm hurting. I'm breaking my own heart. I'm a million and a half things, all just boiling over under the air tight lid of my facade. But in truth, I'm crushed. I don't know how long this will hurt-- there's never been a formula for it. And it certainly doesn't help that the guy, who stomped on my heart, wasn't even a boyfriend when he did it.

No, I'm practically obliterated over someone who I wasn't important enough to to get him to commit. That's a stupid mistake on my part, and I'll accept my part of the blame there. I'm a fool who hoped that this...this, whatever "this" is, would be something to change my life. And for a time it was.

He changed my outlook, my self esteem and my aversion to intimacy. I won't hold it against him-- my good riddance list for him isn't a great thing any how. I'd like to look back fondly, and wish him well. Not a single part of me wants to wish him ill, on the contrary, I hope and pray he finds a woman who he cannot live without, a woman who will appreciate everything he has to offer. I hope he and this woman life happily ever after.

He's a fantastic guy. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel feminine, he never allowed me to think less of myself. He is the third love of my life. I believe in "one person for everyone", but I'm a realist. A single person changes, or should change, over the course of their life, so wouldn't it make sense that what their "soulmate" would entail change with them?

I've changed, and for a time he fits in the LOML position. I didn't, don't and probably won't fit into his, but that's not a requirement for it. I loved and gave whole heartedly...I did everything I could do. Everything I would've wanted done for me.

I love you, but I can't keep breaking my own heart. If I ever fit into the LOML position for you, let me know. Who knows, maybe in the future after you've grown, we'll be what each other is looking for. I wish you laughter, love and a long life.