The link we had – well, I thought it was real enough. It was real enough for you to comment on it
time and again. It was real enough for
you to keep coming back for 20 years. I
know I shaped your life. I changed you,
made you believe there was someone out there who saw the same things from the
same angle. I worshiped you and you
liked that about me. I get it.
You let it slip away.
It isn’t like the disaster that happened traumatized you THAT much. You were waiting for that to happen since I
met you. It was your only way out. And then it happened, and SURE there was a
big mess to clean up, but you were finally free. You must’ve felt, in your secret *shhh* soul,
like a kid on the first day of summer vacation.
Finally FREE. It was surely a secret
glee, completely inappropriate to show that side, I get it. But I knew.
I have always known.
I never asked to be front and center.
I never wanted to be at your elbow, to be in the light. I liked being the side-dish. There is less responsibility there. I didn’t want to spend time in your real life
anyway. Those golf course business cigar
scotch people both intimidate and bore me.
I was more than willing to be the cold beer at the end of the day. The weekend away. I always WAS.
I just thought we would finally be able to BE. Even if only to each other. Just maybe finally with the curtains open.
I had the perfect out.
It was the right time. The stars
finally lined up. You turned your back
on it.
I haven’t heard from you in over 2 years. I called and you didn’t have time. Now I’m gone.
The window is gone. I’ve made my
bed and stopped looking for the clues that I know are still going to be there, because now I’m going to
stay no matter what. I am old now and
this life makes me content. I’m assuming
it’s still happening, but I don’t choose
to see it. There is no point looking
anymore.
I still have trouble believing you just turned it off. I force myself not to think about you because
you just can’t matter anymore. All those
years, all of that history, and the life goes out of it without a sound.
I've never understood people who can simply flip a switch and be gone. Maybe because I was never that cold.
ReplyDelete(((Hugs)))
Thanks, Mulder. It's an old hurt, but it still stings a bit.
DeleteMaybe it's one of those "thank goodness for unanswered prayers" things. I'm happier now than I've been in forever. Sometimes things just work out.
But it still stings.
Gladys, Do you have an e-mail address associated with your Blog? I'd like to send you a message here and there, but my Comments end up being posted immediately on your Blog and sometimes, it may not be "Blog-Worthy," yk? Thanks!
ReplyDeleteTW
Hey! Send to Dorcas20653@yahoo.
Delete(Thanks! TW)
ReplyDelete