Running.

I cried much of the night.  The finality and resounding emptiness that was this amazing relationship crashed around me.  I thought about how his lips were hers, not mine.  How that boyish grin would be hers to wiggle out of him, not mine.  How there’s a chance they’ll be far happier than we ever were – and we had been so happy, once.

I relived the night I ended us.  The words, the tears, the regret, the heartache.

I knew this would happen.  (Didn’t I?)  We’ve both been dating-ish.  My dating has been half-assed.  I don’t didn’t want to move forward.  I wanted to believe that he’d want me back.  I wanted to believe that he would always be mine.

So, per usual when I’m shattered, I’m looking for jobs elsewhere.  Amarillo, Seattle, Mobile… anywhere but here.  Anywhere far from here.

I will apply for the jobs knowing that I probably won’t be interviewed for the positions because there are so many other people who are much more qualified.  I know that if I do get an interview, chances are that there will still be higher qualified candidates being interviewed.

Do I really want to leave?

RIght now, yes.  I have nothing holding me here.  But I don’t *want* to run away.  Where will that get me?  I’d be truly alone if I moved across the country.  Here I do have some friends.  I do have my ex, who is very insistent that we’ll always be friends, no matter where life takes us.

Sigh.

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