Falling Apart

August 28, 2014 § 1 Comment

Tears are streaming down your face, when you lose something you can’t replace.
When you try your best but you don’t succeed.
Could it be worse?

Jason dumped me. We fought too much, he said. We were too serious too soon, he said (it takes two to tango). I begged him to change his mind, to reconsider, but so far, not much response. He didn’t say absolutely not, so I assume he’s thinking it over, but I may never get an answer so I should brace myself for that and try to let go.

It’s funny how breakups make you feel like you’re dying, like literally dying as your torso is ripping and tearing itself apart from the inside. I broke down at work in the alley way. No one saw, but Haley sent me home early because I think she could tell. I kept it together during my second shift, but the manager could tell something was wrong. I said I was just really tired. She sent me home early. I hate that my emotions are written all over my face when I’m ready to collapse on the floor in a puddle of tears, snot, and hyperventilating. Guess it’s good there’s a three day weekend coming up? I can lie on my floor all day if I want to. Wouldn’t that be healthy.

I should stay busy, right? Think about other things? When has that ever worked for anyone when they’re completely heartbroken over fucking up the best thing that had ever happened to them. The fights were all my fault for the most part, of course. I’m such a mess. I have so many issues. If Jason can’t handle me, I’m pretty sure I’ll always be alone. I’m going to die alone after a life spent struggling with loneliness and isolation. Two months of happiness. That’s all I get? I guess it’s all I deserve.

Bill collectors have started calling me multiple times a day, like I somehow magically have the money since they called the day before. I just ignore them since I can’t pay them, but it raises the stress levels a lot.

I can’t believe this is my life. I worked SO. HARD. to make a good life for myself, to lay a strong foundation for my future success and financial stability, but here I am, working at a restaurant and picking up extra shifts to try to cover all my late fees for the bills I haven’t paid in months. My lease is up in January and unless some miracle happens, I will probably have to live in some shit hole apartment run by a slum lord because my credit score is likely so low now that no decent place will take me.

A restaurant, Alexa? A RESTAURANT? It’s like I’m 15 again, except back then it was cool to work in a restaurant. Now I just feel beaten, forced into it out of desperation because no other job would take me. All that hope, all that work, all for nothing. I’m 26 with years of experience, a stellar set of skills, and a graduate degree, and I’m bussing tables and handing out food. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t what my life is supposed to be.

And now I have nothing. Jason was really the only thing keeping me going. And now that’s over and done with. Will he change his mind? Who knows. I don’t know. I doubt it. Why would he? I’m awful to date. I’m a crazy train. I will always be alone. I don’t know how to fix things. Go see a counselor? When has that ever helped. Plus I don’t have the money. I don’t know what to do. It’s hard to see a way forward when your eyes are so full of tears. How could I have screwed up something so wonderful. How can I be back at a restaurant, as if the last ten years never happened. What kind of future can I have if this is my life now? Where do I go from here. What do I do.

I’m spiraling.

Advertisements

§ One Response to Falling Apart

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Falling Apart at A Wash of Paint.

meta

%d bloggers like this: