Wednesday, 2 March 2011

I almost never think of you at all.

"Never let me go..".

I barely think of you any more.
Almost...what ? half way to truth. or half way, to half way ?
I watch as fields go by the window of my train. changing a song when it hurts to much to listen, when it pushes all those buttons in just the right way to bring nostalgia up into my throat like bile from my gut.
It's nearly four years since that last conversation in Golden Square. Those last words you shouted at me in person., The last of the accusations. the last time you followed me. the last time I had to hide from you.
the last time...
the last time we met each others eyes, so empty from our own efforts at destruction. full of fear and pain.
that dirty painful loving we continued for too long. ended, all of a sudden. gone. as suddenly as it had begun.
I had met someone else, it had broken the spell ? I'd left you six months before, but you accused me of cheating on you.
Did you finally realise, I didn't belong to you?  You wouldn't admit what a monster you were.
And I didn't want to get ripped apart any more. I wouldn't have survived much longer.

We were both cowards.
I didn't really leave you. I couldn't. I only waited for you to choose me over insanity.
but you couldn't. you wouldn't.

I thought I needed an apology, it became a precious thing that I had pinned every hope on.
thinking it would fix everything I couldn't piece together however much I tried.
I thought, all I needed was for you to admit what you did. perhaps what I really wanted was for you to tell me that you still loved me, that somehow all that mess was worth it, that we would beat all the odds.
That it hadn't been for nothing. That I hadn't just let my self be ripped to shreds by you because I thought,
perhaps somehow that I deserved it, or that I could take it.

But, it was all because I just hadn't cared what happened to me. I was less than nothing in my own eyes.
A rag to mop up your dirt with

It isn't about going full circle, this process. about all the hurt magically evaporating.
not about hating you. I'd have hated you by now if I was able. but, sometimes I love you just as I did then. the way I thought you needed. the way I thought could fix it all.
I think I always will. I guess that's forgiveness don't you ?
Maybe one day I'll accept that broken or not, the things you did should be enough by far to cut me off from you. to stop me from wondering where or how you are.
Maybe one day I'll have a daughter. And I'll take all of it back. the forgiving love.
The error of my thinking.

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