So, unless you're my friend on facebook and have been constantly keeping up with me (which, there are people who have, and I honestly do appreciate their support and caring), you wouldn't have heard that Mason broke up with me. Notice how I worded that. Mason broke up with me; it wasn't a mutual decision. I wanted us to work, and tried my hardest to keep him happy. I did one large thing wrong, and everything blew up in my face.

Almost two weeks ago, on Sunday, a friend spilled a secret that I hadn't intended to keep; I read his journal five months ago while he was gone for a week, and intended to tell him once I felt that he was better, but never did - time rushes by for me, very quickly, such that I don't even realize that it's gotten away. I was also reading his text messages, which got worse after he saw his ex behind my back (and then he decided that he truly does want to be with me). The thing that pisses me off is that I didn't bail - I stayed put. I stood my ground with him and tried my damndest to make things right. When you're in a relationship, you do everything in your power to make it work.

He didn't. The first moment he felt hurt, or like his trust for me had been broken, he bailed. No warning. He dropped me, a woman that had been by his side for the past two years despite being hurt numerous times.

He came and got his stuff on Father's Day, when I was out at the movies with my dad and sister. When I got home, all of it was gone (or, all that he cared about). I was crushed; I didn't know what was going on yet, or how truly angry he was. He confronted me about the journal and I was completely honest; I was honest about what I told a friend that's like his brother and a girl that's, supposedly, like his sister. I've apologized numerous times and have accepted my part of blame for everything, admitting that what I did was wrong, but my intentions were good - I wanted to better understand that man I was with, though waiting would have probably been better.

For the past two weeks, I have been miserable. For the first, I tried my hardest to reconcile (reading the confession I wrote, inviting him to a counseling session that he only attended because he wanted me to "understand that we're done," and having a final talk to figure things out), couldn't look in the freezer because it was food that we went out and bought together, I cried if I was left alone for too long, the amount of work that I could do at my job suffered (I've been going in an hour later because nap time was just too hard), and my sleep pattern has been awful. Another guy came to my aid and gave me cuddles and kisses to feel better, but I don't; I feel bad because I still have such strong feelings for Mason. I feel bad because I could never give this guy what he wants. I feel bad because the things that annoy me about him I could never look past like I did with Mason; I realized that no matter how annoying Mason got, I was always able to get over it because I was still with him.

To me, Mason is home. I feel so lost without him being a daily part of my life; he's wanted room to figure himself out, which I've given him this past week other than having him come drop something off and trying to get him to pick stuff up.

Along with the attention from another guy, I've resorted to getting a TON of pokemon cards; flipping through my binder makes me happy, at least for a little while. I've been so blessed to have seventeen smiling faces to see five days out of the week; they hug me and are so happy to see me that it's hard to be unhappy around them.

I am trying to be optimistic, but honestly the true way I feel is this: No amount of attention from another man, Pokemon cards, or hugs from these blessings that are called children is enough. I was telling my sister that I don't think it'll ever be enough. I want to work things out. I want to be with Mason. I want my home back. I want my feeling of stability and love back, and those long, strong arms wrapped around me, squeezing just enough to let me know that he never wants to let me go.

That's what I want. For us to be back to normal. No, better than normal. To be happy together, which I think we could have a real shot at if he would be willing to give it a second shot.

I really miss him. I just want to be happy and feel at home again.

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