Even when the music's gone.

I don't know how I got to this place. I don't know how this happened. Why did he become such a big part of me? The thing that gets me is that if she and I were in a room together, he would pick her, hands down. I can't keep telling myself that I can move on while still loving him. I need to get a grip, I can't keep getting butterflies when I get messages from him and then get angry at myself for it. A friend told me if I thought things were going to be different, if I didn't think that the same problems would keep coming up, if I believed that love was enough, that I should give in and go after him.
I know what happens down that road, I know exactly who would come out on top. I'd end up hating myself and ending up where I did three years ago, with no voice, no freedom, just art class, routine and nothingness, if I was lucky. The sadness isn't going away, I can't make it go away, normally I would say I miss the old me. I don't know who that person is, I don't know whether that was another thing I was trying to convince myself of, being a strong and loving person.
I guess this isn't about him at all. I guess that this is about the fact that there is nothing to me but this empty, burned down house that used to be my most sacred cathedral. I don't have anything inside anymore, I don't know how to come back from this, I don't even know if I want to. I'm so tired of trying to stay afloat, trying to show everyone how much better I'm doing because I'm not doing any better at all.