What becomes of the broken hearted?

I somehow haven't had the courage to talk about what has really happened. A lot of this may have to do with shame or my lack of completely knowing myself. The fact of the matter is I damaged somebody, I hurt somebody that meant a great deal to me for a fraction of my life and still, to this day, does in fact, mean a lot to me.

I broke up with my boyfriend in October, or rather our tumultuous struggle with my sanity started to take a heavy toll on his own emotional endeavors. For a while, I felt lost and had nowhere to turn to but there was this boy... this man, who sparked my interest and made me feel alive again. That being said, as unfortunate as things turned out in the end, I must say that I am very grateful for the awakening that he inspired, for if I had no met him, I couldn't possibly get in tune with the small part of myself that I had kept dormant for the passing months in which I wanted to die and has lost all sense of hope.

I thought too, that I could love this boy, and I had loved him... but after a while, I realized it wasn't in a way that lovers could love one another, it was just a love where you could have so much admiration and respect for another human being. My loneliness however, tends to misconstrue things and let daydreams get the best of me. I never wanted this to happen and I'm so sorry it ever did. In my heart I feel a heavy void... and where there is loss I am constantly plagued by guilt and worry because I still want the best for this boy and I very much miss this boy being a part of my life. He is a very great person. He wanted to marry me, so that makes me feel worse... but I couldn't turn my back on my heart when my heart told me that he wasn't the one.

I miss being skinny. I miss being well. I miss a lot of things and I'm patiently, or rather impatiently waiting for this phase of my life to just press onward. In the process, I not only hurt the boy but I hurt Ruedi in the process. I'm not a heartless bitch, although I feel I have been dubbed as such and one could never understand unless they could feel the shadows in my heart.

I'm reading a book, well, I'm reading several books right now. One in particular is Veronica Decides to Die by Paulo Coehlo. It's a painful but neccesary read in my opinion because they talk about people with disorders and they even greatly captured a woman with Panic Disorder. He describes it in a way that I would have, or have described my attacks in the past. It's crazy but it comes as a relief that I'm not the only one that feels these things.

I don't know why I have panic attacks during travel now but I feel a sense of being trapped and eating causes a great deal of anxiety for me as well. I couldn't tell you why but I can tell you, that I have been going to sleep with a bucket and towels by my bed because I am convinced my psyche is on strike for some reason.

I don't know what else to say...