I gave my best, it wasn't enough.

"Then stop feeling bad for yourself and start getting mad at him for making you feel this way.  He did this to you.  Anger is the only way.  Then you will be rational and accepting.  But the anger will help you through."

Anger.  It's the 2nd stage of grief.  Everyone tells me that I need to feel angry in order to move on.  Every now and then I feel twinges of anger, but it's like my heart is holding onto the sadness with a pair of vice grips.  What happens when I get mad?  What good is getting mad going to do for me?  I get it.  The more and more I continue to feel sad about the situation, the less likely I am to move on and work on me. I'm not entirely sure I am ready to let go.  Letting go means it's really over.  As much as I don't want it to be over, I have to accept that it's over. 

We're going nowhere fast we've reached the climax. We're together now we're undone. Won't commit so we choose to run away.  Do we separate?  Won't give in so we both gave up. Can't take it back.  It's too late. We've reached the climax, climax.

I feel like that is what happened.  We grew up, and he got his dream job. Had the world at his feet, a girl, new house, new car, puppy, lots of friends and the image that girls lust after.  What happens when you have the world at your feet?  You take everything for granted. You're on top of the world.  You go out with your friends and live the life, while keeping the rest of it tucked away in your back pocket.  Eventually, maybe the grass seems greener on the other side.  There is so much out there that is unknown...and so...without consequences---he let me go because at the end of the day, being able to live life without the thought of consequence looming in the background is much easier than doing something that will hurt that other person.  I could sit here and try to rationalize his thought and action until I am blue in the face.  At the end of the day, I'm alone---and I have to start over completely. 

Yesterday I went to look at townhomes, because I thought perhaps it would make me feel better.  It made me feel worse.  I don't know why it made me feel worse.  I think that it hurt because I had all of that.  The house---the boy---and now it is gone.  The thing is, I'm getting tired of myself and my own thoughts.  I can imagine that everyone else is getting tired of my thoughts and emotions as well.  Thus, I see the only solution to all of this is, in fact anger.  With anger though come the questions, but most of them start with...

How dare you....
How can you....

So I move on with anger.  No matter how badly I want to be angry, my heart does not fully want to let my mind be angry.