Who needs therapy?

So...I agreed when my therapist told me today that I needed to not talk to Robbie this weekend.  If he texted me, don't respond.  Fight the urge to call him, talk to him, text him.  Keep myself busy.  Gena said over and over again that I needed to take control because right now he has all the control.  And he does, and I know that.  I don't need Gena to tell me all of this because I know.  And she agreed.  I just can't get my shit together and put my thoughts into action.  I know what I should do, for my own sanity, for my mental health, for me.  I'm worth more than this.  But what I should do and what I do are two different things.  I agree, I'm not going to text him, I'm going to walk away.  But when I get that text from him, all I want to do is respond.  And when he asks do I want to go to Home Depot, every nerve in my body is screaming yes while my brain is saying, you're an idiot!!!  :)  I know.  I am.  It's so fucking frustrating because we joke with each other and have fun when we're together.  It's like we're together...except we're not.  I told him that it seems like he's content with her, the way he talks about her, living with her.  And I told him if he's happy there then I'm happy for him.  Which I am.  I want him to be happy more than anything else.  Even at the expense of my happiness.  But it tears my heart out to think that he's happy there.  I just don't tell him that part.  He says he's content with me because I know everything so it's easy to talk to me.  I wanted to scream!  I've always been easy to talk to, but two years ago when we should have been talking, you went elsewhere!  But I kept my mouth shut.  Anyway, today is 10 weeks.  70 days.  That's like alot of days.  It's alot of days going to bed alone, waking up alone.  More than anything, that's the hardest part I think.  I ignore his stuff - I don't go in his room, I  have no reason to see his clothes or anything.  But the empty side of the bed kills me.  I notice that I keep it filled with stuff so it doesn't feel empty.  Pajamas, pink bunny, book, remote control.  It's all over there.  It's not a big bed, but it's so empty.  I miss everything about him, but him just being here is what I miss the most.  When we were at dinner, I just kept looking at him, his eyes, his mouth, his chest, his arms.  I think he's perfect.  Certainly we fit together perfectly, when we hug, kiss...anyway.  He's perfect to me and I miss him so much.  It's depressing when he drops me off.  He should be staying, not dropping me off.  I don't think he finds me attractive anymore though.  He's not so into kissing me or anything.  It's hard to figure out if it's because he isn't attracted to me, or if he doesn't want to lead me on, if he feels like he's cheating on her.  Maybe it's all three.  Anyways I'm completely rambling.  But I guess that's the point, ramble to myself and not to him.  I don't want him to feel bad.  This is just part of life.  Tis better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all.  Whoever that was - Shakespeare or whoever - I guess he's right.  But it fucking hurts.