I cancelled it. I canceled the relationship. I couldn't hang on anymore. I logged on tonight and his nickname read "I'm hung up [on someone]". I asked him to check his e-mail. He said he couldn't, his computer died and this one wasn't his own (I assume it belongs to the girl he lives with). I asked if there wasn't any other way for him to read a message I'd sent him and he said no. He seemed kind of upset or indifferent toward me, perhaps annoyed by my insistence, so I just C&P'ed for him the most important line of my e-mail. And then I logged out.

I didn't think I'd feel this bad. I ran to my room, started to cry and my knees bent. I'm out of breath, I want to throw up, this hurts so much. I didn't know it'd hit me like this, but I just started thinking of how I wasn't up to his level, and I imagined him having sex with her and I know he was never entirely fulfilled with me. And I think of all the things he does with her and that automatically makes her better than me because I never went out with him at night to meet his friends or God knows what.

I can't do anything. Since yesterday I haven't been able to concentrate or sleep well or eat normally. He's gone and he doesn't even care about me, he just left me waiting and suddenly (at least to me) he has a girlfriend, and maybe he's even mocking me for playing along with this break thing. I trusted him so I didn't see it. I just didn't see it. And I know I'm rambling but it's the only thing I can do to let this out, I want to scream and cry loudly but my parents are outside my bedroom and they might hear, and I'm scared soon my dad will call me to ask me for the millionth time something about the computer and I don't know how I'll hide my puffy eyes and runny nose.

Ok, seriously: I want to die. I don't feel well. I feel like shit because losing him is my fault. I know some day I'll wake up and realize I'm better off without him and all that crap people say, but I don't see that right now, and I wish he had at least one ounce of guilt for having me like this. I know he doesn't, because he was never very empathetic with the world, and now I am part of it. I'm not his girlfriend, just some annoying girl. I used to tell him how scared I was of ever becoming one of his stories. Now I am. And I keep picturing him being so happy with her, and talking like in songs, I was miserable until you came along.

I wish someone told him what he's losing, but the same thing about the world applies here. Or maybe people will just be happy, I know some bet on how long we'd last. I wonder what his parents say but he hates them anyway. I don't know if I should give him back a book and a couple of CDs I have, and the key, the key to his house. Maybe I'll go on his birthday, hoping he still lives there, drop off the present and the remaining stuff. I've erased all of the pictures of his cats, but maybe I'd be rushing too much if I erased the pictures of him and the few of him and I.

An important week is coming up. And I don't feel capable of functioning.

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