It has been a week since I wrote the last thing that I did. Quite honestly, a lot of bullshit has happened since then, and I don’t know if you’d consider that good or bad. I’ve been trying to be okay, not crying about anything, and not talking about it. Talking about it only made me more upset, so I’m really glad that my parents and not very many of my family members brought it up over labor day weekend.

The last day of school (which would have been Friday, the first) was probably one of the worst days ever. It poured down rain, and I thought I would be perfectly okay with the umbrella that I had. I have ten minutes to get across campus from one quiz the another, and it was honestly the worst thing I possibly could’ve experienced at that point in time. I got to my last class, and not only were my legs soaked by that time from the downpour, but I opened my backpack and there was seriously a small little puddle of shit in there. EVERYTHING including my rented textbooks, my iPod, my student ID, notebooks with notes from my classes were in there. They were completely soaked, and water was coming out of my iPod’s speakers. Thank goodness that I didn’t have my computer at that point, because I would’ve been royally fucked. Needless to say, my umbrella was too small and the water just dripped off of IT onto my backpack. Then, I fell up the stairs and the people behind me just kept walking over my shit. It was SO cool. This one really nice girl came up and helped me and told me she was an air tripper, too, and fell up the stairs all the time and knew how I felt. Thank goodness for people like her. Then I got back to my dorm, and all I honestly wanted to do was go home PRONTO. Everyone and their mother were parked outside of my dorm where you load your stuff, too. It’s a 15 minute limit, but people were there for an hour, and the cops didn’t do anything. So I walked with a bunch of stuff about a mile to my car. In the pouring rain. Yeah, that sucked so much. I got home and put on a hoodie and just wanted to cry. I probably had the shittiest week that anybody could have had. My boyfriend had dumped me the previous week, and all of that shit kept happening. It wasn’t cool by any means.

After that, my weekend wasn’t all-too bad. We went shopping whenever I got home, and I got a ton of food, etc, that I seriously needed. The downside was that my nephew was loud as hell the entire weekend, and I was not fond of that by any means. My family has a tradition that every Labor Day they do “survivor”. I honestly hated competing all the time, because it got nasty and it was nothing exciting like people made it out to be. I was forced to participate after I was told by my uncle that “he knew I was a partier and would go get drunk and fuck random frat boys.” Yeah, real nice right? I thought so, too.  It wasn’t all too bad participating other than the fact that I almost puked watching my cousins sixteen year old girlfriend (my cousin is nineteen) sit on his lap every chance she got and hand rape him every time she stood up. It was quite disturbing, and is not necessary to do whenever the rest of your family around.

I came back to school yesterday morning, because I didn’t want to come back the day before seeing as the day before that, some girl got raped in a parking garage by the parking lot I park in. That made me super scared and terrified, and I figured 8 in the morning would be A LOT safer than 11 or 12 at night.  I slept for about an hour, and then went to class for 45 minutes. It was the easiest day ever. Went to eat (the nastiest) Chinese food, and then went to Wal-Mart with my friend to get the “much needed” food that I left (milk, string  cheese, and Nutella.) Then I went to eat some place on campus that I had never been before, and it was pretty good. Talked about stuff that sucked, and was interesting, and all-in-all, my day yesterday was pretty okay.

Until the night time.

I had figured that there was some other girl for my ex, because he never talked to me about any of it, and his feelings randomly changed for me in a matter of less than two hours. Sure, I texted him incessantly, almost constantly about the subject, but he was the only person that I could talk to about it. I didn’t have anybody who’d understand, and I was completely terrified to talk to my roommate about it, even though I knew that she probably could relate to what I was going through. There was this girl that he had been “friends” with who always posted statuses about this guy that would send her ‘cute text messages’ and that she ‘adored and really liked’ and such, but she always said that she couldn’t say who the person was. Then she changed her relationship status the day after he and I broke up, and I thought something was a little fishy… yeah his relationship status said “in a relationship,” too, but I figured he just hadn’t changed it from whenever he broke up. Until I physically read her comments saying who she was in a relationship with, and I just flipped fucking ass. I called one of my friends bawling my eyes out figuring that he had been with her the entire time we were together being the fact that that was whenever she had started talking about him. I was crying harder than I ever had about the situation, texted him and posted on his Facebook wall saying that he could go to hell because nobody deserved to be treated like that, that he clearly didn’t love me and I wasted 8 months of my life on stupid bullshit that I regretted so much, and wish I could take back. Sure, that might be a really bitchy thing to say, but he was mine…and it just wasn’t fair to treat someone like that and I thought he should know. I called him several names within those text messages, and he decided that he was going to do the same, really rude (while I was talking to my mother at this point in time, which is a rarity, because I never talk to my mother about my relationship problems because she always has something rude to say about my significant other). I cried reading it, yes, because it hurt a lot. He called me and was like “how do you feel now.” I informed him that those names didn’t hurt me as much as seeing him with someone else, and that “he didn’t know how much it hurt.” He informed me that “I didn’t know how much it hurt, not the other way around. He knew that it hurt, but me calling him names and saying our relationship wasn’t worth it, dumping me, etc. hurt.” I asked him how his feelings could randomly change in 2 hours, and bitched about that until he informed me that “they didn’t.” And then I gave him an example and asked how he would feel if I did that to him. “I told you and him that if you wanted to be together, to just tell me,” were his exact words.  So I repeated the same words to him and he informed me that “he wasn’t going to stay with her.” I was super confused at this point in time, like any other person would be, especially in that situation. Until he finally informed me that he knew it would piss me off, and he knew that she liked him and figured “he should give her a chance.” Shady, right? I asked him if he knew approximately how bad it hurt, and he just repeated the same thing to me that he had before, that other things hurt worse. The conversation was heartfelt, and sincere, apologizing about things that happened in the past, and then him talking about how he had feelings for his baby momma, but he didn’t act on them. I asked him if he still had feelings for me, he said yes. I asked him if he just was going to do the same and not act on them, and he said “not exactly.” The entire reason that we broke up was because I was like “I’m not perfect, and it seems like you want perfect.” He told me he couldn’t handle my insecurities, and if I changed, we’d get back together. Of course, every girl has their insecurities and I know I’m self-confident, and I tried to explain that, but it didn’t work. I guess this was his point of trying to make to me that he KNEW I had self confidence, and it would help me express my feelings by making ME feel the way that I sort of made him feel. I’m not an idiot, and I knew that if you were truly in love with someone like he seemed to be, that you didn’t just not have feelings after all that. The conversation went on with what was generally happening in our lives, and the end of our conversation went something along the lines of “goodnight Kaitlin” “goodnight” “I love you.” And my heart just kind of melted at that point.

He didn’t text me good morning, which made me doubt it, etc. Of course, I’m STILL doubting all of this, because it seemed so surreal what happened, and I’m not sure if he’s willing to hurt someone that he said was his “best friend.” Fuck my feelings right now, but I can’t help but be all up in them today. Especially since I got 5 hours of sleep, and am running on probably 13 hours from the entire weekend, and I have class until 5 today. I need a nap severely.