Horse, dead.

How do you know when its time to say goodbye?

How do you know when you're just flogging the proverbial dead horse?

I'm so tired, mentally. Now I'm physically ill too. I feel like my body is just giving up.

We had another row. He lied to me and he just wont admit it, and that makes me so angry. It makes me want to hurt him back. And I know that when I am wound up I go at it like a Tasmanian Devil, but the repercussions on me are always worse.

I've seen the letter he wrote me, telling me he was leaving on 1st April. I can't admit I've seen it because it was on his PC. He says he made the decision on 17th April, when we had a row. He baited me into that row. I told him to stop it because I could see where it was going but he just went on and on - I think he was just looking for the excuse to leave. As it was I got so upset I took an overdose, and I am lucky to be alive.

I know he is not a nice man. He doesn't have a sympathetic bone in his body. He lies - he told me so many lies, made so many omissions. I did things for him because he said it would be making his fantasy come true. He cried and said he couldn't believe anyone would do that for him. He lied - according to his PC, I wasn't the first. I doubt I'll be the last.
He is also one of the angriest people I have ever met, even though he wont admit it. My anger has a childish quality to it - it is more like a tantrum, albeit a loud, ranty, dangerous, one. But when it is gone, it is gone. His is more of a deep seated seething darkness, and that scares me.

So why the fuck do I still love him?

I sent some of his stuff back. He'll get it on Wednesday. The rest is in the shed. Having him and his stuff out of my house helps.

Now I just have to get him out of my head.