All right, so it's been 4 months since I've lost the man I've loved more than life itself. I've been thinking all this time about how badly it hurts and how the pain distracts me from living my life. Every day I think I have moved on and I feel great! Driving to work listening to my favorite music, furthering my studies and doing crafts in my spare time. Then when I am not busy, I start to think about the hurt in my heart. It's such an overwhelming, helpless feeling. I am by nature a strong, stubborn, bubbly person. I have so much love to give, but this hurt is the poison to my flower garden.

Early last year I got to chatting with my freshly single broken hearted crush from high school. He was devastated from his fiancé leaving him so I said lets meet up. We met up for pizza. He said he didn't want to go into it too much so we just caught up about the past years.

We started seeing each other. Though he was a shadow of loud, confident, arrogant boy I fell in love with (it was the soft heart that I fell for), I knew that his heart was still as soft as it was all those years ago.

Long story short, he broke up with me every 6 weeks for 10 months total, presenting me with a different excuse every time.
I sacrificed a hell of a lot for him. My friends, my life. I moved to the other side of the suburbs for him. Left my friends. Left my life behind. I spent every day taking care of him, waking him up with sugar when his blood sugar bottomed out during sleep, did his laundry, groceries, everything. His family and friends loved me.

He strung me along and showed my strong independent spirit the meaning of rock bottom pain. Our friends took his side and wrote me off. Here I am in a new suburb, no friends, no man to love.

While I go through phases of bliss on an hourly basis, I soon reach a dip where I miss the sweet loving cuddling and closeness that we had.

Help... I feel like I am dying. He's moved on while I am still grieving.