I have written what feels like hundreds of pieces to you in the last 2 weeks, but it was probably only a few. I have scratched angry vicious words into paper, intending to hurt you as I know I can, despite your stone cold front. I have leaked pathetic hurt through streams of tears. I have sighed out grounded and peaceful amends. But none of these words and actions really capture where I am.
I don’t hate you, as my vicious words indicate. I would need to care to hate you, and care I do not. I don’t feel the hurt that those tears seem to transmit. I would have to be surprised somehow to be hurt by your callous and emotionally damaged actions. And I am not. I am not ready to make amends to you or hear your amends. Maybe one day, but not today.
In the end I am not sad about you or losing you. I never really had you, so it’s no big loss. On a lonely foggy San Francisco Sunday, I won’t miss you complaining about the food or the accommodations. I won’t think about those lonely days when I felt so dismissed and unloved because you couldn’t be fucked to remember anyone other than yourself. I won’t long for the feeling that I have to be a completely fucked up mess to get any of your attention, as all of your exes and friends do. I won’t reminisce nostalgically about the manipulative word play you use to try to convince yourself and others that you somehow aren’t a complete liar.
Instead, I will move on. I will continue to transform and grow, remembering that none of what has occurred in the last 2 years had anything to do with you. I will remember with gratitude the sweet love I gave myself when you couldn’t. I will continue to try to bring that to others; to the world. And I will remember, above anything else, that I deserve so much more than you…
Because I do.
I don’t hate you, as my vicious words indicate. I would need to care to hate you, and care I do not. I don’t feel the hurt that those tears seem to transmit. I would have to be surprised somehow to be hurt by your callous and emotionally damaged actions. And I am not. I am not ready to make amends to you or hear your amends. Maybe one day, but not today.
In the end I am not sad about you or losing you. I never really had you, so it’s no big loss. On a lonely foggy San Francisco Sunday, I won’t miss you complaining about the food or the accommodations. I won’t think about those lonely days when I felt so dismissed and unloved because you couldn’t be fucked to remember anyone other than yourself. I won’t long for the feeling that I have to be a completely fucked up mess to get any of your attention, as all of your exes and friends do. I won’t reminisce nostalgically about the manipulative word play you use to try to convince yourself and others that you somehow aren’t a complete liar.
Instead, I will move on. I will continue to transform and grow, remembering that none of what has occurred in the last 2 years had anything to do with you. I will remember with gratitude the sweet love I gave myself when you couldn’t. I will continue to try to bring that to others; to the world. And I will remember, above anything else, that I deserve so much more than you…
Because I do.
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