Because words are just as freeing as they are limiting and I earned this.
Hello Beautiful Liar,
Welcome to my venting session. One you may never read and I am totally fine with that. Because this is finally something for me, not you. And after this, the part of me who was all about you won’t exist. Hope your day ended on the good note that you stole from me that December day. You see, what started as an open confession turned into a trap. In my vulnerability I confessed that my heart only wanted you, but logical fear danced around my mind like waves. Fear you planted so long ago with seeds from your sorted past. But even so your response got my hopes up anyway. Much like it always did. My heart beat so heavily when you actually uttered that I was right. When did I ever get to hear those words without resentment? It was a treat. Truly. And your tone screamed to my aching soul that you understood. Which is all I’ve ever asked. Just to be understood. But before I could bask in that moment, you snatched it right back. I should have known. Happiness like that is dangerous because it tends to let you down. That euphoric feeling escaped me as soon as you spoke again. It’s like you waited with such patience for the right moment to ruin me. Just because you knew you could. So it’s what you did. Ruined me, broke me to pieces, cut me deep with such harsh words and reopened each wound. You hadn’t been in love with me since April, yet you stayed toying around like I was your favorite play thing until you found another, of course. It’s your M.O. It’s what you’ve always done since the day I met you. Used women to get over another. Though in this case, I guess to get “under” another would be more accurate.
Now here I am. Usually when I am in the thick of heartbreak, it almost plays out in the same fashion every single time. I keep up appearances, lick my wounds and push my anger down deep. I tend to cry a lot. I reminisce on when things were really good. I remind myself of why things were actually really bad. I listen to sad love songs on long car rides home at night and blast “I Hate You” anthems in the morning. Wash, rinse, repeat. And by the time I am writing it all down, I’ve told myself a million times that I will get over this pain quicker than the last time. Because really, what else can I tell myself? That I wasn’t enough? Nope. Because I am more than enough for someone deserving. Or that giving so much of myself couldn’t hold “us” together? Nope. Because it takes two willing participants to give instead of constantly taking. Maybe that I was so drained from all you put me through early on that a couple years later I finally required a moment for myself to recharge. Or that you had fallen out of love with me in April, but continued to WASTE my time. And no matter how you spin it, that is exactly what you did. Because regardless of our struggles, that was the one thing that never wavered on my end. At least now I can honestly say that I did in fact love you more.
I feel like heartbreak is hard for everyone, but somehow it seems worse with you. Maybe because of your hypocrisy. Asking so much of me while skating by on the excuse that I was the one that needed to be patient. Maybe it was the charm. A talent of yours that led me to believe you ACTUALLY loved me when in reality you blamed me for pulling you away from your ex. Yes, that ex. Maybe it was the promise of there never being a woman above me. Yet, always being a woman placed above me. Your ex who you just couldn’t get out of your system, your baby mama who you couldn’t take off an undeserved pedestal or maybe the young little dancer you brushed off as just some girl you were helping out. Hmph, sure. But most of all, maybe it’s the issue of time. So much time spent. Time spent arguing, time spent apart, time spent in everything but a “honeymoon stage” as some might call it. Oh, how I desired that stage? That happy place of ignorant bliss couples start in. One where it all just flows so naturally. I yearned for that so badly because from the gate with you it was never easy. Or maybe it’s because I truly believed you were going to be it for me. That all the hassles of our past had been for a reason. Like something to bring us closer. A really fun story to tell our kids later. So much talk of a future. Married in Michigan, honeymoon in Greece, home in Cali with your mini and the addition of our twins. No white picket fence, but a comfortable life with you.
That was it for me. Even with all the tough talk of leaving I knew I only wanted to work it out with you. Wanted you to see me naked and fragile without judgement. My flaws were never a secret. I struggle with affection, insecurities and impatience. I reach out to control things out of fear of losing anything that resembles happiness. I nag out of a desire to see a future grow and succeed. But you couldn’t dedicate yourself to holding me up the way I did you at your lowest. And your sense of blame should have been my cue. I didn’t fuck you enough. And eventually your touch didn’t feel the same. Now looking back it was probably my body’s way of reacting to your spirit. A spirit that no longer loved me in the way that I needed, in the way that you promised. I should have listened. God set up every sign. But I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that he had brought you back to me after so many years just to rip you away. Maybe you were merely meant to be a lesson. Placed in front of me again only as a test. Maybe God gave me one shot to resist temptation and a broken heart once more and I failed. Whew, and what a failure it was. Because you tested my every limit. And each time, I stayed. Maybe God just gave up. Free will and such. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment and he knew I had to learn the hard way. That you had to break my heart before I would get the hint. God is funny that way, you know? Of course you do. Because you know everything.
Yeah, because you’re so perfect. Perfect enough to judge me on my relationship with God even when you barely understand your own yet. Perfect enough to throw in my face how my depression and anxiety ruined us when it was the secret I trusted you with after hiding it from everyone for so long. Perfect enough to expect me to be patient through all your fuck ups but God forbid you be patient in mine. Perfect enough to humiliate me in front of my enemy, an enemy I only had because of blindly caping for you. But of course you had a “justifiable” reason for that too. Perfect enough to try and replace me with your conveniently timed new chick. While I do know that I am irreplaceable, I still hope she was worth it. I hope she submits and gives you all the power you so desperately need to feel adequate. Because for you love meant control. And the love I gave purely and unfiltered was no longer enough for your fragile ego. I hope she is. I hope she’s worth your salvation. I hope every night you get your fix because you deserve nothing but addiction. And when the time comes, I hope it eats you up inside.
Now I know, I know. God doesn’t like ugly. But that pain is real. Even more real because I didn’t deserve what you put me through and I have to live with knowing that I gave so much of myself to someone like you. But I pray every night that he removes all the anger in my heart. I love too hard to dull my light because of you. I have all the faith that he will. Because God knows there’s love behind the pain I feel. I have a Cancer’s heart after all. One that is loyal, passionate and nurturing to the core. So eventually, he will rinse me clean and I will no longer think of you. I am ecstatic about that day. When I am ready, I will pray for you. Because even though it is me who sits with a broken heart to heal in the present, I am undoubtedly sure that every selfish deed will come to light and require payment. I wish you no rest until then.
So to the boy who played with my heart, I release you from the safe place in my memories.
Sincerely,
A Woman In Bloom Without You