I'm holding all the tickets. You're owning all the fines.

Today is a sad day. I know it because I woke up crying, I've been crying for an hour, and now I have Skinny Love on repeat. Indulge me a bit because writing is how I deal with things. If I don't write it somewhere, it never comes out and just stays bottled up inside eating away at my soul.

I was telling a friend yesterday that the common courtesy of "texting a girl the next morning" after you go out on a date freaks me out these days. I feel like I'm being smothered in attention. The most I can give to a guy is a few hours, and then, I'm done. I don't want to see or hear from him for a few days. Anymore attention than that, and I get scared.

I want a relationship, but I don't. I want company and a bond, but I don't want the heartache. The effort. The attention. I want to get married, but I don't want to get married at all. Basically, I've got commitment issues now. I blame it on Heathcliff. I don't blame him for much, actually, but I do blame him for that.

I was telling all this to a co-worker who was asking me about how my date went the other night. You know, the one with the other half-asian, half-white boy. I told her that he texted the next morning, the polite thing to do, and it was freaking me out because I don't want a commitment. She said I had to stop letting Heathcliff have so much control over my current life. Lord knows she's right. I mean, he's certainly not crying over me.

Last night, I revisited a dream I've had before only it was a continuation. Previously in a dream from over a year ago, Heathcliff and I had gotten married and moved into this amazing apartment. In last night's dream, I served him with divorce papers because he had already left me a long time ago and cut off all contact. I went through the entire place taking pictures of the things that belonged to me or my parents, and he agreed to sign the papers. Even in my dream, where apparently I still loved him as much as I used to, watching him sign those papers broke my heart. I was in shock. The one thing on Earth I thought was rock solid was crumbling, falling like grains of sand through the cracks in my fingers.

That was one of the things I told him when I first started dating him and contemplated the move to Catholicism.  "I just want one sure thing in this life. And I know I'm not going to find it on Earth." But among my sure things on Earth, as sure as Earthly things can get, I counted him at the top of that list.

But he let me down in such a major way.

I keep feeling like I won't have closure and be able to move on until I decide what it is I would have said to him after getting dumped because even to the last minute, I was trying to work it out with him. I still don't know what that would be, but I need to find the words, not necessarily for him to hear them, but for myself. Just so that I know.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to dispose of all the tickets and baggage I've got so no one else has to pay fines for crimes they didn't commit or carry luggage they didn't pack.