the connection remains. it tugs. it aches. i wonder if i am the only one to feel it anymore. i wonder if i was the only one who truly did. or cared to. i keep telling myself that i’m moving forward, moving through, but here, at night, when it is quiet and still, i think about how these moments were once shared, how i could once believe he cared, and even though i know now he never did, i find myself wishing he would lie just a little bit longer. i’d be willing to believe, i always was. insanity.
he is often present in that place, where the little green light shines and calls of late. i have noted that presence and wondered if he hopes i will reach. and am angry for how he doesn’t…. never has. it is all jumbled up inside. i wish he had cared and cherished and honored as he said he did. lovely lies. i believed him. wanted to. needed to. wish he would give me reason to believe they were more than lies. insanity.
he won’t, of course. ‘not this life’ and his precious space and silence, protections against ever having to be more than he is. far greater warding than i could hope to overcome.
i miss him. i hate myself for it, knowing he feels nothing but relief to have me gone.
i still count the days. wonder what he is doing. wonder if … no matter. it doesn’t matter, does it? he’s gone, he’s happy to be gone, and i’m just a fool who can’t get over it.
he said he was tired of feeling rotten about himself in relation to me. damn him for a coward. damn me for not being able to see that and do anything other than wish for the chance to duck the blade and help him through it. he never let me help. he doesn’t want that help. he doesn’t want to change.
i know. i know. i know. i remind myself. i remember. i wish it could matter. it doesn’t. how twisted is that? i’d be willing to be cut by him forever just so i might one day find him unwilling to cut me. insanity.
he was never interested in learning how to drop the blade. so many times in so many ways pushing at me until my only recourse was to cut him. then using that as an excuse to turn. coward.
assured me, reassured me, swore he could see a long walking. insisted in the face of my own certainty it could not be. until i believed. until i finally believed. and then, cruel bastard, he walked away.
jumbled. snarled. lost. knowing all this, how can i still care? what is wrong with me? i lay these things out like shards of glass and run them against my skin one after another, trying to find the way to believe them as well as i believed him when he said he would not abandon me.
all the angry words, and all the direct evidence and all the many cuts he has given and it still is hard to accept. insanity.
i remind myself that he does not care. someone who cares could not be this cruel. i tell myself all of this and plead with myself to believe it better than i believed him. accept it. please accept it.
fool that i am, i refuse.
insanity.