And of course there's nothing quite like delusion.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I find myself wishing for things I should not. Normally I prefer to keep things like this to personal journals, but there's never a good place to think out loud when you're constantly drowned in well-meaning and often (though not always) appreciated advice.

It's funny. When someone is out of your life, you can finally see what it was doing to you. You can see the years of desperation, and the lies whether they were intentional or not. You can see that it dragged you down. Was no good for you.
You can see beyond the hurt and the loss that maybe it is best to move on.

The moment they come back? It's gone.
There goes the reasoning. There goes the new relationship with the boy next door or the cute girl who was warm and made you smile. You'll drop the boyfriend or girlfriend or casual date because you like them and they are cute and they're nice and fun and loveable.. but they're not them.
You get caught up in the phone calls and conversations, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, they have changed. Are ready and willing to truly put you first. You can be together and be happy. Everything will be okay.
There is hope.

And it is the worst fucking lie you will ever tell yourself.

Quite often there is no change. We're doomed to repeat things.
If something happens once, it may be a fluke.
Twice could still be a self-contained incident, but it's not quite likely.
Any more than that? It's not going to stop.

Take it from someone who had the "We're over. Get out of my life. We can't talk anymore" conversation twice before the final fall. I should have seen it then. That it wasn't going to stop and he would never be coming back for good.
It was always going to be short-lived and painfully cut off.

As to the aforementioned in the beginning, my current wish - tugging at the corners of my reasoning and trying to clamber in - would be to go back to someone I have known for quite some time and very well. "Boyfriend" is not necessarily true. We actually officially dated for a whole of twenty-three hours if I remember correctly. "Lover" is an irksome word, but it's as close as it gets.

No one knew me like he did. We were best friends and fought hard to keep ourselves that way. We made it work despite all opposition, and at some point we had synced together so fully and so well that you'd have thought we were made for each other.

I dropped someone good for him too, the final time he came back.
A boy with his own fair share of issues, but who did so much for me and cared about who I was and how I felt.

I wonder why I didn't just say no.
I guess I'm just weak. Maybe gullible. More likely just too hopeful.

We all learn the hard way.