2 years. i looked back on all of these things with this strange mixture of pride, anger, and relief. a long time ago, i was too young to even comprehend that i could shoulder a relationship for that long. now it all seems so small compared to the life i have ahead of me.

i learned a lot about myself in those years. some of it, i could account to her. i learned to be angry, to be honest, to let these negative emotions move me forward. i learned that not everything is done with love.

i think what hurt me the most was that, in those final moments, i could not find the person i loved- the same person who would cry when we couldn't get to sit next to each other on the bus, the one who never forgot who they were, in the own process of getting to know me. the person who honored my boundaries because having them never made me love them less.

i wonder how much of it was an effort to understand who i truly was, and how much of it was done out of the concept of keeping their relationship with me.

do i still want to try again? probably not. it's a waste. it's a waste. and i find it so fucked up. to share a bed, to share a life, with someone who says they're fine with being the bad person.