Sigh

Elvis put it best, as usual:
"But if I've done something wrong there's no ifs and buts
'Cos I love you just as much as I hate your guts."

It's almost five months after the fact, and it still hurts like hell and pisses me off all at the same time. In spite of the faith I try to hold that at any given time things are exactly as they should be, I can't help but feel like in this case, this one time, it should just be different. I don't know if there was ever even a possibility that it could have turned out any other way. But the very thought of the potential existence of that possibility is absolutely killing me, and thus must be extinguished post-haste. I deserve more. And better. Soon.

Those of you that have the elusive "it": Congratulations. Sincerely. Don't fuck it up.