I wish I had no pride. If I had no pride I would call and beg for him back. I would say that my breaking-up with him was the biggest mistake of my life. I would beg him to leave that girl and be with me. I know he would say no, but at least I would have tried. I am too prideful to do more than think of calling him, for any reason, let alone that.

I remember when I asked him “What would you do if I broke-up with you?” He said he would try to get me back. Now I know that was a lie, due to the fact he was dating someone else at the same time as he was dating me. He probably doesn’t give a d*** that I broke-up with him. In fact I bet he was relieved. I mean, I spared him the work of having to break-up with me.

All the feminist bones in my body tell me to stop wanting him, he’s a jerk. But the romantic bones, the ones that force me to read chick-lit, are telling me that I want him more than anything. My brain, which I used to say was logical, tells me that I should give up, that still loving him is illogical. The irrational part of my brain, which I have just discovered is really the powerful part of my brain, says that I still need and want him, and should want/need him, no matter how silly it might seem.

Some days the logical part wins, and I begin to move on. I realize that that guy at church is funny and nice, or that that guy in art class might be a jerk, but he sure is cute. The irrational part of my brain tells me that those guys will never like me anyways, so I should just reminisce over what was between my ex-boyfriend and me.

I wish my brain could agree on how I am truly going to get through this or I wish my brain could throw out my pride and shame, just for a day. But neither thing seems like it will ever happen, so for now my brain will battle, and I’ll continue to have pride.