For so long, I didn’t know why I had to suffer because of an emotionally abusive and toxic relationship. When it ended, it felt like I didn’t have control over myself. Relationships were ruined for me. I felt like every guy out there will hurt me the way he did. I continued dating assholes and I always got the same lesson again and again – to not settle for less. Then I stopped believing in love. Then an unexpected man came into my life. He did not pretend to understand my trauma. In fact, he asked, and I answered. He did not pretend to understand it at that point either. He took his time to learn about my scars but not once did he promise saving me from all of it. The only thing he did was to treat me right. He didn’t do grand gestures. He told me not to expect grand gestures all the time. Then I realized the bad relationships had to happen so that I’d know when I’m finally in a healthy one. Apparently, two people can have disagreements or fights even without all the shouting or the gaslighting. I felt like I could fully be myself. I can act hurt when I’m hurt. I can be angry when I’m angry. Then I understood what love really meant. So I pray to God this is it for me — the good karma after all that suffering from all the bad relationships
There are scars in my heart. I’m not whole anymore. Loving is too painful. It’s killing me.
I feel so utterly alone. It’s not that I “need” someone to pick up the slack or take care of me; I have proven to be independent. If not the need, why the want? Why do I desire and crave a person that made me so unhappy? Was I the problem? Should I have settled? He is a wonderful man and he will make a great husband for someone else. I know there was a reason I left, but I’m having so much trouble remembering why. When I do remember our fights I put so much blame on myself. The anxious thoughts keep spiraling … “It’s your fault that he lied.” “It’s your fault he was anxious.” “It’s your fault that your marriage fell apart, you were the one that left after all.” Because I carry so much regret for the yelling, hitting, running away, and fighting, I can’t help but feel it was me who ruined everything. That he was a broken man who needed to be loved and instead I broke him even more. The look on his face when I left replays over and over in my head and it shatters me. I want to hold him and tell him everything will be okay. I want to return to him and try to compensate him for everything I have done. I know I left, and because I did, it wasn’t all good. But was that because it wasn’t good? Or because I had a distorted perception of the relationship? Was my leaving a juvenile mistake that I should have rectified? Was my unhappiness rooted so deeply in myself that I projected it onto a man who was only trying to love me? Right now I don’t even crave the love I deserve; good love. I crave him. I don’t know if these feelings and depression are classified as “rock bottom,” but it sure as hell feels like it. How can I be okay? How can I live with the guilt? The regret? I don’t know why I feel addicted to him. Is it love? A sign I should go back? A trauma bond? Or just guilt? I believe so hard in “gut” feelings and intuition. I don’t feel those “gut” feelings anymore. I am so depressed that everything is a blur. I’ve sought the help of podcasts, self-help books, daily affirmations, prayer, journaling, therapy, and so much more. I am desperately clinging to the phrase “Things can be hard and heavy, and still be right.” However, nothing feels “right” anymore. My life feels so wrong; out of place. How can I find happiness? How can I be okay? I just want the feeling like I’m drowning to stop. I want to emerge from these depressive waters I am in. I want to see the silver lining. I want hope. Please, let me have hope.
One more sleep and I close this chapter of my life; the chapter filled with more love and laughter than I ever thought possible. I will miss you still or perhaps I will miss how I felt when I was around you.
But with that came screaming, fighting, and words we can never take back. With that came pain and addiction and resentment. We were everything to each other and we watched as we slowly became nothing. We could not have stopped it, it was inevitable. Fated.
So if that is true then I am fated to move on. I am fated to heal from you and this. And I know you will too.
You dump me.
Trust is gone.
How some months back I had drawn a picture of a squirrel and a little bird sharing it online , a few days later a dead mama squirrel shows up in my parking space. Shortly after that a dead baby squirrel in short proximity to where the mother had been found. I am the one that finds the bodies, but someone else removes them after I find them. My husband brushes it off as coincidence, but I think about how before we moved into this space and changed cars how I was getting multiple nails in my tires every few weeks. My dad and others would also brush off my misgivings about those instances, but this would occur over the space of years and there would be no one I could turn to for help or security.
The nails have since stopped but this squirrel instance brought a sense of renewed fear.
Perhaps though someone gave the neighbor kid who’s obsessed with nerf guns a bb gun and he decided to practice his shots on the local wildlife. That wouldn’t really be any better but at least it wouldn’t have been directed at me to send a message of some such monsterous intent.
A dalliance with Death occurs
While Nostalgia and I have our fling.
We kiss under the lamppost of a life
Shriveling from the light.
No more tears frozen by hummingbirds
And lilacs and glittery green trees.
Here, Death toys with me and Nostalgia
Bites her lip in a sensual way.
They hardly notice at first the light glowing inside
My supple skin.
Sometimes, I forget you
ignited a match in me that can never darken.
At least I tell myself this on days
where Nostaglia undresses me with her eyes
and Death laughs at me and sings “soon kid.”
I think I see you as I step off the sidewalk so my thirsty companion can get a drink.
The man smiles briefly but walks hurriedly by, silent when I offer up a good afternoon.
Silly me, it’s been well over ten years and I’m quite sure your day to day business keeps you occupied enough that that you showing up here of all places would be improbable, but I think about it still as I peer down after the man as he turns a block shy of where we’re going. The resemblance is uncanny in that brief moment I see his face and it dredged up a myriad of feelings, mostly the kind of missing I suppose. I shouldn’t fixate on these things so heavily, I have business to take care of too.
When I get home, I finish up my latest body modification practice, a little ankh on my pinky to remind me of pleasant fascinations in my youth.