Not sure what has happened – but it seems there’s no longer a place for me in your life right now. It’s been over a month, but things are already starting to rust.
The first few weeks were tough, the past couple have been excruciating. I can’t compare from experience, but I imagine it feels like the withdrawals attic’s experience in detox. But, like a successful rehab – you heal, and eventually you wake up one morning feeling more centered, whole, and the blue sky has a glimmer of hope – Instead of just dreading the dark. You remember what it felt to wake up in the days before we met, and you start to align your heart and mind. Slowly, the hole left behind starts to mend together and become a scar. It’ll never leave, but one day… like a lot of scars, they fade into the rest of you. It becomes… normal.
Tonight, however – I’m going to stop fighting. Stop running. I’m going to let it consume me. I can’t find the right combo, and I’m not fast enough to outrun it. I lost the battle today.
There’s a lot I wish I could share with you. I wanted to share more with you last year, but you didn’t really want to hear it. It meant accepting my past and you weren’t ready for that. And, that’s okay. It’s a lot. The difference in age was nothing, and the connection was a real and as strong as I’ve ever felt. However, it was the life lived within those years that kept me from holding on with both hands. Those thirteen years didn’t make me smarter or wiser; but it gave me experiences that a person couldn’t understand unless they lived it. If I could tell you, or show you – I would. You would understand the challenges, the exhaustion, the trauma. You’d understand the true moment of peace and sadness combined, and you’d feel my pain rub against my relief. Most importantly, you’d understand the journey I made to open up my heart to you. You’d understand that it was difficult, but necessary. And, to have pretended otherwise would have been disrespectful.
Of course I’m sad that you’ve moved on, that you have a boyfriend, that you’ll soon start to go days… then weeks without thinking of me. But, that’s not what’s breaking my heart. You were disrespectful to me, and I fell in love with you under false pretenses. If you didn’t know you could hurt me, devastate me – then you never really knew me at all. But, I think you did know. Building up and resentment and arbitrary care for my feelings is only an inexcusable excuse. I want to build my relationships on trust and respect, but in the end – we had neither.
You’ll continue to believe our relationship was on my terms, but regardless – the post relationship has been completely on yours. Instead of giving me the space I asked for to heal, you countered with condescending remarks and ultimatums. I began to believe the lies you told me about myself. Like a dog walking on the lease with his master, I walked steady and kept a firm gaze ahead. When I started to wander, a quick jerk pulled me right back by your side. Then, you were gone.
You had brought me back from the dead. You breathed life into me, gave me affection, laughter, companionship, comfort… a home… hope. But as the truth started to surface, all of this unraveled. You see, ours was a story that I needed to be true. It’s like my whole life moving forward depended on it.
If I knew moving forward, that I’d be okay – then this would probably be easier. As it is, I’m not sure I will. Despite what I thought, I don’t think I can do it all on my own. I strain beneath the weight of too many burdens. Too many more times I know my heart will bleed. Too many times of telling somebody else everything will be okay. Nah, I going to need some help.
Tonight I ‘m going to cry. Listen to sad music. Reread old texts, im’s, and emails. Look at a few pictures. Simmer in it, ache in it, and let it cover me up. Then, I’ll go longer before that happens again, then even longer. I’m going to surround myself with my friends, meet new people, and eventually… find love elsewhere.
You were respected and loved, and I’m proud of my side of this story. I choose to believe you’re better than this. Now, you believe it. Make all this hurt mean something. Be better.