I forgot a few items

Oh, yeah, and there's a few other things that I forgot to mention...

First, there are maybe 5 people that I talk to about you.  Here they are and what I say to them:

My Mom: I don't say anything really, but she wants to know when you can come for Thanksgiving dinner.  Or any dinner really...

I: She's my best friend.  I tell her many things.  And she loves me and she knows that I love you.  I also know that she wants to see me happy and she is the best voice of reason that I have that helps me to know when something is not making me happy.

M:  She loves me too and wants me to be happy.  Also, she IS  the person who took the pics of my tits when we were in S.C. so that I could send them to you.

You:  Well, you know what I say to you.

I don't talk to anyone else about what we are or are not.  I haven't called K or anyone that I might be able to reach out to regarding you and your life. As we both know, there are ways to get in touch with people that maybe we should never speak to.  I have never, nor do I ever plan on doing that.   One day, I hope you will share larger swaths of your life with me, but until then...

Secondly, when I do let you go and we have that conversation, I will be deleting my Fl profile.  That was meant for you and me and us alone.  I don't want to explore that with anyone else, especially online.  So if you want to talk to me, you'll have to actually call or text me on my phone.  Or my "real" email.

Finally, as I'm sure you can imagine, I am going to go through all the classic stages of grief.  First I will be sad, confused, and yes, I'm going to cry a lot.  A Lot.  My eyes are going to feel permanently puffy and yes, I'm going to look like shit for a few weeks.  Oh well, people will deal.  Next will most likely be denial or anger or both, simultaneously.  That's gonna be awesome.  I will try my hardest to not call or text you all the nasty and hurtful thoughts that are sure to come to the surface.  You know, things like how I was nothing but a piece of distracting ass to you.  How you really never cared about me and how all you were ever looking for was someone to indulge you in your fantasies.  And then, in the end, it will be the long, slow, construction of the wall around my heart. 

None if this feels good.  None of this feels right.  I don't want to let you go.  It's feels like the girl who finds a wild animal baby and takes care of it, helps it to grow and become strong and then in order for that animal to fully thrive, she has to shove it away.  She has to break her own heart in the process.  She has to practically push them with her own hands out of her life.  She loves this animal, so much so that she will purposefully tear her own heart and soul to pieces so that it can have what it needs.

This is how I feel