Oh My God. Not AGAIN.

I don't know what possessed me to do it. It kind of just happened, like I had no control over what my mouse was clicking on. I had this weird possession to click on Cedric's Facebook and sift through his pictures. I saw many smiling faces of my friends, like Amanda and Graham, and then I saw pictures of another smiling face who made my stomach flip and my mouth stretch wide into a genuine smile.

Karl.

My God, I can't help it. While there were only a few pictures of him working on cars and posing with Hooters girls, I got so excited to see his face again. I never see him at school except for if I pass him in the parking lot. I see him once a week, and it's usually on my Wednesday run to get some lemonade. I don't want to forget him, and I don't want him to forget me.

Frak. Does this mean I'm still not over him? Because I want to be. I want this pain to stop. I'm so tired of feeling this awful guilt for messing things up with him and it's eating me away. Whenever I think back to what happened, it scares me for any future relationships I might get myself into. Am I going to mess it up again?

Part of what went wrong is probably that we just didn't know each other that long. I don't think we had ample time to truly understand our personalities. I mean, he knew that I was free-spirited and I knew that he was analytical and logic-bound, but that's not enough. We didn't learn how to compromise or talk. It's really unfortunate now that I look back. It happened like a fast blur.

I still have the texts from when we were still dating, to when we broke up, to after we had the second talk, to when he said he still thought I was attractive. And even though I have them saved on the computer, I can't bear to delete them. I feel like I'd be deleting the last bit of him that's mine. I wake up everyday and see the roses he gave me by my door. I always see my dress in my closet that I wore to homecoming with him, and when I pick up the shirt I wore on our first date, I smile.

If he did want to date again, I don't know what I'd do. Would I jump on the offer with open arms and an open heart and be the girlfriend I should have been from the start? Or would I decline and tell him "Too bad. You already had your shot with me, and you fed it to the wolves."? I don't know. It scares me that I don't know myself. Sometimes I want to carve my heart out, shove it in a jar, and bury it under the fig tree so that I don't have to feel the pains of love or heartache. I don't want to deal with any of this love nonsense anymore.

xx Her Tears Made Her Swim Beneath The Sea, She's Free Marz