Want to know what it feels like, to have a man, that has claimed to love you for over 13 years, sell you dreams, and keep you living in hope, tear your heart out in one swipe? Me too…because right now, I’m not feeling anything. Oh…I know I will. I know that in a few hours, when the shock subsides (not the shock of it happening-just the feeling) I will feel it. I’m imagining it similar to all the other times, but more of Mack truck like effect. Because this is it. The last time.
I know…drama drama drama right? But he ended it, again, and this time it’s done. Not because he says it is…but because I don’t have the energy to keep fighting. Not because I don’t love him, but because I just can’t do it any more. I can’t.
Right now I’m just a huge messed up ball of anger, and hurt and confusion. Right now I want to hurt somebody, and if nobody gets in my way, I’m guessing it will be me. Right now, I don’t care about anything or anyone, much less myself.
But in the morning, when I can see clearly enough, process the thoughts that are spinning in an out of control fashion around my head currently, in a weakly diluted (okay barely diluted at all) bath of wine and whiskey…I’m going to feel every single little part of the hurt, and betrayal and loss.
Someone said to me tonight “It was a betrayal of love, and a betrayal of you. You fight for love, and he plays with it”. Well, I don’t like this game, and I can’t play it any more. I have fought for too long, to get to the castle, to be told that the game is over before it begins. And the thing with games, is that they come with consequences. If you land on the corner square, you go to jail. If you land on a ladder, you slide down it. If you hurt somebody, that is strong enough to have dealt with your bullshit for 5 fucking years (not including the stint 8 years before that again), you need to expect, that before they are gone, they will show you what it’s like to feel.
Consequences. Something he has never had to deal with. Because he trusts that he is loved, and while love has never been enough for him to return, to commit to, he thinks it is enough to protect him.
He says he wants to be alone, period. So, he can be. And I will make sure of it. Vindictive-sure. Vengeful-maybe. Justice-fuck yes. I’m guessing at this point, there may be a person or two out there, wondering just how much they have under-estimated me, or my affinity for evil? For truth? Perhaps even under-estimated my lack of resourcefulness and memory? And I can say this, because I’m a bottle of wine and half a dozen good (fuck your Scotch) Irish whiskies to the wind. I can say it because lack of inhibition, apparently lets me say whatever I want, to whoever I want (those people know who they are tonight, and I regret nothing!)
But for now, I will sob, and despair, and be fucked up. Let all who wish to judge, kiss my lily-white arse. I deserve to feel exactly how this feels to me. I deserve to hurt and bleed and pine, and ache and long. I deserve to feel what this man has done to me for so long, that I may be able to one day, finally, let go of all of the light and goodness, that I see in him, still. I deserve to grieve and be hurt, and be bitter, and angry and resentful. I deserve to question and doubt, and know that he has done the wrong thing to me, when all I ever wanted for him was good. I deserve to know that I didn’t do this. that I was not to blame. That I have nothing to be ashamed of. That LOVE is nothing to be ashamed of.
You see, all along, people have said that losing love is like grieving a loss. And I have known both, so not to diminish anything, but…there’s this. This. This is a decision. He decided that love was not enough. that I was not enough. He decided not to choose me. He weighed up the options, of which there are countless, thought about it…and decided that he didn’t love me enough. Loss is not a choice. this. This is a choice. I was not enough.
It is not my fault, I know. But it is my pain to bear. That this person I love so very much, my soulmate, the person I would give everything for, that told me until this week began that he loved me, wanted me…thinks I am not enough for him. He would be alone, over making a life with me. He would choose nothing, over me. Let that sink in, because it’s taking a while for me.
So now, I’m going to go and try and sleep this off. This initial fucked up knee-jerk reaction to pain. I will wake up feeling sick and worse off for it, and steel myself to go to work and put on a brave face, when all I want to do is be alone and feel the entirety of this…void. And maybe he’ll show enough respect to just explain anything, and maybe he won’t. I don’t know why he’d start now, to be honest. It doesn’t seem that it’s been a high priority to this point. But the consequences…they will come. After all, who am I to stand in the way of a mans true desires?
Goodnight Kids. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Or Karma.