I really don't know any better.

You'd think, after doing this to myself over and over, I'd learn my fucking lesson.

But I haven't.

Once again, I am unable to loose the grip of my passion, my obsession, my love (if that's even it).

I'm like a freaking children's toy that only knows one function: repeat the same mistakes I've made time and again.

I have such a hard time letting go. I clutch things and people to myself, hoping that I will never lose them, but it's impossible. I can't hold on forever. Not physically, anyway. But even after they're gone, I cling to the memories and pray to a god I'm not even sure exists that somehow, some way, they will come back to me. But they don't; they never do. Yet, here I am, maintaining this viscious cycle.

I love him. As much as I understand about love, and as much as I know about my capability to feel it, I know that it's true. I regret, so much, that I ever let him go. I think about him...all the time. Being in proximity to him steals my words, my thoughts, my breath. Hell, being around mutual friends or hearing other people talk about him stops me in my tracks. I long to know what he's thinking about, what he's feeling, doing. I crave his attention, affection. Honestly, I'm ecstatic when he acknowledges my existence. At school, I seek him out: at band practice, in the dorm, walking across the quad. Just seeing him, even if he doesn't see me, tightens his hold on my heart. I don't know how to explain it.

I tried to tell him. I cried my heart out on his birthday, knowing he wouldn't want to be around me. I wrote him a love note, telling him how I still feel about him, think about him. I slipped it under his door. A few days later, we talked for just about four hours. I cried numerous times, probably shared more tears than words. He cuddled me, kissed me. My world exploded. I was so confused, joyous, afraid, excited. Hopeful. That's the scariest one.

That weekend, he went away with the pep band. He talked shit about me (and my confession) to his friends, laughing about my emotions and the way I acted. When confronted by my roommate (who knew the whole story), he lied about what happened between us. She informed me about this upon their return. He and I fought in the worst possible way: via text and facebook message. He told me he still loved the girl he dated before me, and how angry he was that he would probably never get another chance with her because of me. I thought we would never speak again. He deleted me from his friends on facebook, I him from my mysace friends. I lasted two weeks trying to hate him, and turning a few people against him, however temporarily.

Then we went to New Orleans with the band for a football game. I hung out with a guy friend I've had a crush on for years now, hoping to divert my attention. Didn't quite work. He ended up pissed that I was still thinking about the one that got away (and fucked me up), and left after I called the offender in his presence. He's still kind of spurning me. Talked to my antagonist, found out he was drunk, and asked to talk whenever he made his way back to the hotel. I ended up taking care of him, making sure he didn't throw up on himself or pass out. He stayed with me that night, cuddling me. We were friends again, and I was once again given hope based on his actions that maybe, eventually, we could be more at some point.

That was mid-November. He barely speaks to me. I still pray for him, for us. I'm dating someone now, and he's great. I care about him a lot, but I can't stop thinking about That Guy. All thoughts lead back to him. He's haunting me. I try so hard to escape him, but I can't. I don't know what else to do. I feel as if my heart breaks every time I think of him, see his face, hear him talk, read something he writes, or fucking walk past his room. Have I lost him for good? Do I need to let him go? How do I get him out of my system? How can I cure myself of this disease he's cursed me with?

My friends tell me I can do better, that I deserve better. I can see their reasoning, but regardless of the better men who approach me and attempt to steal my heart...it can't be done. I don't own my heart anymore, and I don't know how to get it back.

Fuck.