Devastation.

So I know I haven't posted in quite a long time, and seeing my most recent post makes me incredibly distraught as it refers to a happiness recently ended. Recently, I endured a week without talking to the man who makes me happier than anything in the world.

Well, let's back up a few weeks.

On the two-month anniversary of our first date, I decided I would take a giant leap and tell the man about whom I care deeply just how much I care for him; I told him I love him. It was an awkward night. Nerves kicked in, upset stomachs took over. Awkward, indeed. Nevertheless, it seems everything was fine.

But I guess an old friend and new conversations got him to thinking. So began almost an entire week of not talking to this man about whom I care so much. Torture ensued within me when he wouldn't return my voicemails or answer my calls. The pain through which I went that week just devastated me. I didn't know what I'd done to warrant such blatant neglect. I was scared that I was losing him.

Finally, he comes into my work one Saturday afternoon. He was with friends; he didn't say more than a handful of words to me. It was definitely awkward. After work that night, he actually answered his phone for the first time in a week, and told me he was too tired to come see me. I guess I'm not much of a prize to seek anymore. So much has changed from the time when he would beg me to go into work late just so he could stay over and not have to get up so early to leave.

I didn't call him at all for three days. Finally, he calls me Tuesday night (6/17), and tells me he has something to tell me, that he doesn't want to come over to see me, and that he has to tell me this something in person. But, since he won't come over to see me, he says I have to wait until Friday to get together to see him. There's no way in hell I'm going to wait all week to find out this news (which may or may not be good at all). So he tells me.

He doesn't feel a spark.
He gave it time. He tried.
Nothing.
And since I told him that I loved him,
he felt that he was just dragging me along.
For all the wrong reasons.

The thought of never getting to kiss him again, never holding him at night, it just tears me apart. The first man I'd ever dated, and truly cared about beyond just another hot guy I know. He's the first man who's ever showed me just how special I really am - and he made me feel and believe it, too. Because of him, I willingly got kicked out of my house, stood up to my father for his bigoted hatred of "fags," and did what I had to do to live my OWN life outside of my parent's house. He is the world to me, and I would willingly still do anything for him.

Last night, I was hanging out with an old friend from college. I had a huge crush on him, and thought I'd be so happy to date him now. But sitting there, watching a movie with him, something wasn't right. It wasn't the man I care about. It wasn't the same. I couldn't hold his hand or cuddle with him. He wasn't my love.

I cried again last night, laying in bed cuddling with a pillow. I can't kiss the pillow goodnight.

I'm crushed.
Torn.
Devastated.
And I don't know what to do.
I want him back so badly.