And again, in my heartbreak, I swear never again, never again.

A part of me wishes I'd grabbed my heart and ran, right at the beginning, like my gut instinct told me.

But didn't some moron say 'It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all'? Personally, I think that fuck has never been heartsick.

I have been close to throwing up all evening. I don't know if it was something I ate, or because of my nerves for seeing him tomorrow. He's running tavern, and I refuse to be chased away from somewhere where all my friends will be, just because he will be there.

Oh, gods, do I want him back...

I am afraid of myself when I see him again. He will be dispassionate, and ignore me, but that's not unusual. He will have on his Public Face, and his Public Face barely acknowledged me even when we were dating.

I fear, I fear...

This heart break is something new to me. I have never had a break up where the ending didn't feel Right. This doesn't feel Right.

I've lost my appetite. I ate a total of a single meal today, because I went out for lunch with Tyne, and even then I ended up taking half of it back to the theatre with me and putting it in the fridge.

I have never experienced loss of appetite from heartache before. My stomach does not even growl, which is saying something because I'm a hearty eater who needs to eat regularly or my brain power and temper suffers.

Now, I just feel apathy.

I moved his name on MSN to another group, so I don't see him when I go to my friends list. Even then, I find myself going with distressing regularity to stare at his name, and even occasionally to bring up his chat window to catch a brief and painful glimpse of my favorite picture of him, which he still keeps up.

I feel so pathetic. I feel so juvenile.

I knew he wasn't happy, I just didn't realize *how* unhappy he was.

Sometimes I feel that if I scream at the Universe loud enough and often enough, something will change.

And yet...the sensible part of me knows it won't.

I told him not to contact me. I cut any threads he may have left tied to me. *I* cut the threads. He may have started it, but I finished it.

I either had to have him completely, or not at all. He couldn't give me an answer, so I provided one for him.

But, ye gods, do I want him completely.

I would have waited, Paul. Dammit, I would have waited.

Why didn't you ask me to wait?

Before&After