It was bound to happen. I was drawn in since day one. This was so strange, as it usually manages to be. All the weird stuff. I’m still so caught up over you. But there was a package deal that caught my eye.
I liked both of them. A lot. Heard they were together. Had been for five years. Had four dogs together. I became close with both of them. Heard they broke up. Had been wanting to make something happen. With both. But with her. That would be a dream.
I got you. Where I wanted you. And I got her. Where I never wanted her. We did this. It happened. It happened in her house. It happened basically on her front lawn. I betrayed her. Knowing her heart. Knowing how she still loved him. Still coincides with him.
I just couldn’t help myself. I got caught. She knows and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that it doesn’t even matter that it breaks mine. Hers. I hurt her. I hurt her and she’s still this beautiful presence that I don’t even deserve to be around. I never deserved to know her. I never deserved to touch her.
Does she see that this is hurting me? I don’t even care about hiding it at this point, I may be good in my areas of manipulation. I may have a particular set of skills. But I am still someone who is all feelings. I am still someone with a heart. I am still someone who cares about her deeply.
I was so overwhelmed with her again tonight, I saw her and she said hello to me with her sad eyes that used to look at me with light just a week ago. I crushed it under my feet repeatedly. Crushed out the light that I enjoyed so much. That carried me through some low points. That I looked forward to.
And right after I came back inside from talking to him, after how earlier I had broke down in tears after that comment was made to me, that I know she heard, that I know she saw cut me, that I know cut her too. I didn’t even care if she knew. It wasn’t even the comment. It was all those damn overwhelming emotions, a buildup. I broke down from how I feel about this. Cried. Went to be alone. Fell sort of weak.
She helped me with a problem. She made something happen for me. Something small but she helped me. She was sweet, she was sad, and I missed her. I miss her. I was nervous and thanked her and had my hand on my neck. I kept zoning out. The girl with your name was there for a midnight shift. She kept asking me what was wrong. What was wrong I couldn’t tell her and I had to fight every urge to chase her out the door. To look her in the eyes and tell her how sorry I am. To absolve my guilt. To have her back. But I never will. I stabbed her in the back and I’m sick about it.
We were in close quarters just the two of us. We had walked into the bathroom at the same time. I heard her blow her nose and it brought me back to how she cried. I washed my hands beside her and it made me wish that I could just wash this off of me. Off of her. As much as I tried to fight it I couldn’t bring my head up and risk meeting her eyes. She took a deep breath and I felt tears well up in my eyes. She was right beside me, so close, and in a matter of no time at all she is so far from me. And it’s on me. I fucked up.
I told him that my intentions were never to hurt her. He said in the same sad tone that she’s had lately, “no one ever has bad intentions in a situation like this.” I know. I know that my intentions don’t matter. It was still a decision I made and I am no baby. I know it was wrong.
He told me that this was an explosive situation from the beginning. And I know. I’ve always known that. And even just talking about it, my mind replays what it looked like to see the pieces from that explosion hit her in the face. Seeing pieces of it cut her skin, stick out of her. It was like seeing someone brutally cut open in front of you.
But then I learned what you did to me.
But in the end, I got the upper hand.