Paper and Ink: Femme Aimee (67)
My weekend was weird, really weird. Not just because it started without any intentions of going anywhere, but also because of the fact that I had been out late the night before and then the plot I was looking forward to in the evening. I guess I was used to your random erratic weekend phone calls because you were under the illusion that I was only available over the weekend and I wasn't about to correct you. This weekend, you started with your 100 calls a minute and I ignored them. You then sent a message that the least I could do was answer your calls. I scoffed to myself, Lord knew I owed you nothing.
On seeing how uninterested I was in talking to you, you sent a text letting me know you had found your keys, the ones you lost when we were still living together. You said you wanted some of your stuff, and would pick them up then leave my keys. Of course I didn't want you at my place in my absence so I rushed back home. Imagine my dismay when you took your time looking for fictitious receipts and arranging the mess you created. I asked you to hurry, as I had to go back to my doctor's appointment.
I eventually left, and you kept calling. You said you had come under the pretense of looking for stuff and actually wanted another chance. I guess you didn't get the memo that the love I once felt for you was whittled to irritation and disdain after all the pain you put me through. I knew I would be with you, yet feel alone. That living with you would be tantamount to a personal living hell with someone I didn't believe loved me.
You can’t believe how wide the distance can be between two people who used to be so close. You can’t anticipate the cold after the flame goes out. You can't imagine the dark thoughts that fill the mind after someone you love ruthlessly tears your heart apart. You can't bear the weight of anguish, the guilt you feel for breaking things off even if they deserved it. I don't want to be responsible for your pain, you pushed me away and drove me as far from you as I could be. We can't get back what we lost.
I can't let this weight define me or control me. I closed my eyes and my heart and let the feelings tethered to you detach and fade away. Finally, somehow I can breathe and feel the air filling up my lungs.
Eventually I will forgive you, but never forget. No, I can't forget hoping that a second chance would be my paradise; instead you showed all you would give was minimum energy to keep me around but nothing more to make me happy or stay. I was crippled by my love for you rather than hate, and by holding on rather than letting go. You keep swinging between the things that take us a few steps forward and the ones that take us a hundred back. You said it yourself, we are so happy and then in hell. It's not me, it's you. You are incapable of carrying on an adult relationship. You don't even see that. You are so stuck in denial and taking things that are easy. If you look the truth in the eye, you will see that this isn't what you want, not really.
It makes no sense, the issues we have which don't change. I shouldn't have to compromise all the time, where is your urge to make me happy? I want so hard to forgive you but you aren’t even sorry, you don't even know that you have done something to be sorry for.
‘There’s something about pain that keeps us coming back for more. The same mistakes, the same exhausting experiences, the same people who take us for granted are all things we’re just used to. We hurt ourselves. We mend ourselves. Then we hurt ourselves all over again. And it’s a sad, sad circle we’re just used to…'