hypocrisy

I'm a hypocrite. I hate hypocrites, and am reluctant to join their club. But I am. Why is it okay for me to move on with my life, but the moment I feel like my ex is moving on with his, I'm struck blind with jealousy, sadness, and panic? It's a horrible, shitty thing to do to someone you love. I'm learning a lot about myself these days. How low I'll go, if you will.

While reflecting on my childhood, I discovered (with a little help) that I have an unfortunate history of men in my life claiming to love me, but yet moving on, abandoning me, with appalling ease. This causes problems for a myriad of reasons, obviously. It's so crippling for me because of the manifestation of feelings of worthlessness. I feel that acutely.

I wish I could be a better person. I wish I would not torture myself with conjured images of my ex making out with/making love to another girl, being able to make that girl happy in ways and lengths that he could never make me. Why wasn't I good or worthwhile enough to inspire him to change, be different? Why can't I accept the fact that it wasn't me? It couldn't have been me.

If anything, I was the reason why it lasted so long. I kept believing that it would work, had to work. Stuck with it, despite the unhappiness, misery, and torturous weeks/months/years. You know how it is. Things can suck for a while, but then you have a good week, when you remember why you fell in love with the person in the first place. Those good parts keep you hanging on, keep you hoping. Ultimately, all the hanging on and hoping is futile.

So yeah. I wish I weren't a hypocrite. I wish I couldn't give a fuck what my ex did and who he did it with. But I am, and I do. Not forever, but for right now.

I don't like right now.