Guilt About My Lack Of Guilt

I don't feel guilty for ending things with Bright Eyes.
In a way, I do feel guilty for not being the figure I wanted to be to his daughter.
Mostly, though, I feel guilty... for not feeling more guilty about the situation.

Weird, right?

Do I miss him? Yes.
Do I feel I made the right decision? Yes.
Do I hate being single? Yes.
Do I need to be single? Yes.

I've been keeping myself incredibly, insanely busy.
It's not Bright Eyes I've been avoiding thinking about, though.
It's Danger.
Not that there's much avoiding thinking about him, most days, though.
He was my friend for years before we dated. YEARS.
I really think he was the greatest love of my life, and I let him go.
You wanna talk about guilt? The man's dead.
I was so scared to lose him that I lost him.
Twice.
I was terrified he wasn't what he seemed, so I pushed him away. I never stopped loving him. This man was everything I wanted. He was the bad boy, the wild one, the tattoo artist, the free-thinker, and he was also one of the most affectionate, doting, loving people I've ever met, not to mention an incredible father. He loved his kids more than anything. He was the unattainable one when I first met him- that guy that was clearly above me, out of my league. As all crushes do, it came into perspective. He was real. He had some flaws- mostly, he sucked with money, but that wasn't news to anyone- but the way he loved me, sweet Lord....
He bragged about me.
Not a little bit.
Constantly.
He thought I was his dream come true.  I was the one who stole the heart of the eternal bachelor.
I love him so much it hurts- literally.
Some part of me, even after 2 months, refuses to accept this as real. He can't be gone. Not him.
He wasn't supposed to leave me behind.
I woke up, and he was just.... gone.
The man I sat next to in the hospital all night, the man who always insisted I stay with him when I, once again, found myself not welcome in my mother's house, the man who's eyes lit up when he talked about marriage and settling down, or moving to Texas for me, the man who took goofy pictures of himself for me and posted them on Facebook so everyone could see how much he loved me... The man who was planning our wedding, who wrote an email to my 1sg to try and get him to help him with a surprise formal proposal... The man who was designing an engagement ring for me.... I love this man more than life, and I can't imagine anyone ever capturing my heart the way he did.
Danger could get anything- and did.
Some of the crazy stunts he pulled off still amaze me.
I want him back.

I'll turn 25 in January. I've decided I'm not getting in a relationship until then. What little dating I've done since Bright Eyes and I broke it off a few weeks ago has been nothing short of disastrous. I want to feel loved and cherished, and this sure seems to be the wrong way to go about getting that feeling back. I miss feeling like there was someone in this world who couldn't live without me. The sick part is, Danger and my exhusband were the only ones who ever gave me that feeling, and with my ex, it was brief.
I want him back.
I need time to heal, and I know this... I'm trying, I really am.

I won't lie, I haven't felt like a very good Baha'i lately.
It's not that I've done anything really wrong, it's just that our community seems so conservative, that I feel like a troublemaker lately. I haven't made a huge effort to attend devotionals on Thursdays, and Ruhi study has been nearly abolished for me lately... I just feel so much better when I'm not trying to focus on memorizing and, well, discussing things with people lately. I've surrounded myself with people, but not ones I wanted to talk to about all of this with. Lady La La is the only one I've kept around that I really would talk to, but she and I have been staying busy with keeping other people around. While she gets me, nobody else needs to know what's going on. She's Baha'i as well, though she's the other rebel child of our community.

As I write this, I'm lying in bed at almost 9pm, which is much earlier than I've seen my bed as of late, with what I'm pretty sure is some minor food poisoning. I never thought it could be so miserable. If it was just my stomach, I wouldn't care, but it feels like it's EVERYTHING. Dehydration, secondary to minor food poisoning sounds about right.

And so it begins, through the eyes of me,
A tale of what my life was never supposed to be....