I know you read this blog, and this is the only forum that I will allow you.
You need to know that I am not going to take your calls, I am not going to return your calls, and from this point forward I am not going to even listen to the messages you leave. It’s over. It’s been over for 9 years. I’ve tried to incorporate you into my life in a sane way, and you’ve refused to allow it. I’ve tried to protect you from yourself and your choices, but the point of diminishing returns came and went long ago. Yes, I could tell you all of this in person, but I am not willing to share the proximity that such a conversation would require.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it one last time: your existence is toxic to mine.
I don’t care that she’s gone. I don’t care that you’ve “seen the past and the future.” I don’t care that you’ve “matured and (are) ready.” And I certainly don’t care that you have that fancy house all to yourself. None of these events affects me at all. You can spout off about love and destiny and predetermination until you’re blue in the face; still, you fail to realize that nothing – nothing! – has changed. I don’t dispute that your love is true, I only remind you that you give it on your terms alone and I haven’t been willing or able to accept those terms for quite some time.
There is nothing left for us. Why I tried to find a place for you in my life – minimal though it may have been – might have been out of my own misconceived fear that failing to do so would close a door forever that perhaps shouldn’t be sealed. Maybe you were going to get less psycho. Maybe I was going to get less married. Maybe there really was a place for us after all. Maybe you were going to stop spouting your self-righteous bullshit and admit your own humanity.
No, the time has come to shut, seal, and brick over that door once and for all. The fear that I had somehow sacrificed honest True Love in order to save my existing family has been assuaged. I am grateful for the happenstance that brought us to collocation, and I thank you heartily for your little display of hypocrisy, as the toxicity emitted from it melted the scales from my eyes. My tears of disbelief and finality washed them clean again.
How dare you judge me, you sanctimonious windbag? How dare you share your soul with everyone BUT me and then deign to begrudge me the small measures of comfort that I have taken? Your duplicity knows no bounds, your deceit no determination. Your treachery backfired, your assumptions proved false, and now your castle crumbles… how amusing it was to hear you scrabble about for the words that would somehow convince yourself that you were not wrong. You were. You are. And I will no longer allow myself to be poisoned and polluted with your deluded judgment and the injudicious travesty of control that you have pompously labeled Love.
In short, fuck you. Save yourself the humiliation of a showdown and just don’t come near me ever again. There is nothing of me left for you.
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3 comments:
I dialed the phone, I hung up.
I dialed it again and hung up.
That cycle consumed me.
I wanted to talk to you, but I knew that what I held to be sweet was poison in disguise. It was pure sucrose that I suckled from your fingertips - the "sweet" that oozed from every pore on you. I choked on it.
I dialed the phone and hung up.
Well now it's days/months/years down the road and I've shed my "need to be loved skin" and realized that I'm OK right where I'm at. I'm brighter. I'm faster. I smile more.
Life's not always peaches and cream. It's not always lilacs in the summertime.
But I never hold the phone to my chest until my fingertips leave bloody marks on the inside of my palm.
The curve of your back, the delicate shadow on your shoulder blade, running my tongue up your thigh till your giggled like mad - they are all things I'll miss, but I know inside that I can keep the memory and lose the person attached to them.
You were often only the hand holding the string.
You wiggled it, I jumped.
You wiggled it, I jumped.
You came to see me dance for you whenever you were bored.
You brought stories of forever, of divinity, of kismet - I lapped them all from your lips and begged for more.
And now?
Why do I say all of this instead of holding it back again?
BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO KNOW - Both eyes are open.
I am not hungry anymore.
My lust is not insatiable.
I don't have to stand and wait for you to come back, unsure of when or even if.
Someone whispered on the wind, they told me something you'd never give, they said, "Unto yourself be true."
That's what I leave with you; memories like broken dreams, the scent of me after hot showers and cold nights, and the knowledge that I am, and I am, better now without you then I would ever be with you.
Revel in it.
No more bloody nail marks inside my hand.
No need to second guess...
No need to wonder why...
No need to make excuses for you...
No. Need. For. You.
Thank you, Jen, for sharing this with me. So beautifully written, so very real.
Where else could I say such things aloud? Where else could I admit my own frailty and weakness? Here, in this relative anonymity, I am oh-so-human and oh-so-vulnerable... where else can I be THIS me so honestly and so without fear?
Just my blog, yes. But, today, so much more.
Thank you, thank you. You've managed to help me feel a whole lot safer than I did just ten minutes ago.
Cutting the past loose to move freely on it's own without harm or hinder to you is a hard thing to do. Once it's done it often feels like a weight has been lifted but sometimes it embodies fear too.
Having said all that, I wanted to tell you - I'm happy that the chain is broken. I'm happy that you've cut the tie.
And in the aftermath, we will keep you safe here!
*nod*
{{{{{A}}}}}
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