Monogamy. So many definitions, often varying between one person and the next. Does it apply to strictly physical sexual loyalty? Is it just for appearances, a public display that one has “it all together”? Does it apply in the realm of the mind, is it okay to wander, to daydream about others, to yearn for past lovers yet remain “committed” to a current one?
I’ve run these ideas through my head, trying to understand where I misjudged you. When did it happen, that I decided we were looking at the same page, moving forward together? Because what I saw today showed we have been looking at distinctly separate books. Perhaps that analogy is cliché; but then again, so are you.
You demanded monogamy, demanded loyalty. Which I wholeheartedly jumped into, determined to keep you. I was probably afraid of being alone, looking back on it all. What I have such trouble accepting, such an adrenaline rush of disbelief every time I think of it, is that you would cry and wail and fight to make me yours, only to remain polygamous yourself.
How did I miss it? How did you fool me for so long…
So here is where I’ll be coolly honest. The sex sucked. The romantic gestures were subpar, at absolute best. The fact that you wasted so much energy to fool me and also yourself is laughable, comical, pathetic. It has all come crumbling down, and now, my dear, you are alone. Yet again. With dusty videos and photos of your past lover’s body and yours enmeshed. And some of me. But that’s all you have. For the charade has been exposed to the blinding light, and I don’t like what I have found.
You are estranged from me. And while I will move on, will live to love deeply and greatly again, you may not have this opportunity come around otra vez, for you’ve let too many good things slip right between your fingers. Your infidelity and haughtiness have done you in this time.
I couldn’t be more heartbroken and relieved at the same time. At last the act is over. At long last, the curtain has been drawn.