Complicated Like That

Destined? Or Sought After?

It's weird. Talking about something that hasn't been updated in a while. What's even more weird is ending back here. Tears & heartache yet again. This time, I really thought you were the one. No, I knew you were the one. Everything about you just clicked, like finding a lost key to the mysterious doorway. And yet, his words about finding someone you click with haunt me. You're not him. You make me forget him.

Knowing you has been the most bittersweet thing in my life. I was okay loving you from behind the scenes. I never thought you'd like me back. But you did. Turns out your "I love you's" weren't so empty after all. I guess I've never really met anyone who had similar dreams as I did but with a completely different perspective. Telling you I wanted to pursue writing or acting or singing even was difficult because I expected you to say what everyone says. But you didn't. You believed. And that was more than enough.

But I guess we're all flawed in the same ways. Our relationship hasn't been easy. For me more than you, even though it may seem like I'm a pro at this point. You've never doubted me. Or rather, I've never given you the opportunity to doubt me. I've played my cards right: treated you with respect, showered you with love, supported your dreams and taken care of you.

This much is expected in a relationship. But what you don't know about was the fear that crept in after we said "goodnight", the one that told me that it won't last. The devil who whispered that you'll destroy me in a way I wouldn't imagine. I've been on a Warfield everyday fighting against my own demons for you. Every day I prove them wrong and they steal my sleep. It's exhausting really, but I do it anyway. All for you.

I guess I'm just really disappointed in myself. I've always given so much to others. I've always asked for the bare minimum. Sometimes it boggles my mind knowing that humans are incapable of this simple task because it comes so easy for me. I've gotten so used to handing out water without filling my own bucket that it's involuntary. I don't expect the same. That life is dreadful. I expect you to fill your bucket and water me so carefully everyday, so as you don't drown me, so as you don't dehydrate me, just enough for me to flourish.

But we're here. I'm heartbroken and screaming on the phone at another man, begging for the same things I've always begged for. Throat on fire, head spinning, tears soaking my pillow in the middle of the night. I try to speak, a simple and soft request.

"I have something to say and you're going to listen and then you're going to cut the call."

And as I start to share my tragic story, you interrupt me to defend yourself like all the others before you have done.

Silenced.

Hurting and silenced.

So I sit quietly, tears rolling down my cheeks, listening to everything you had to say. Hating myself more each second that passes for granting you my ears while I whither away. I'm disappointed at myself to say the least. I didn't want to hear your reasons. You didn't even try to hear mine. It's unfair. But it's my fault it's unfair. I could have cut you off mid sentence. I could have screamed until my throat was raw, with an unflinching confidence in narrating my story. But I didn't.

I surrendered to you like I always do, like I've always done.

I bitterly and falsely believe that I have somehow won. Because I will not speak to you. I have asked for this much and I deserve this much. But that too is just not possible.

Because as I toss and turn in my cold and wet bed. I eyes wide open staring into the void of darkness that covers my room. I only think of you. I give in ... again.

The bright LED light shines on my drained face while my eyes hurt. I type a short message thinking that your apology for silencing me will heal my wounds, thinking that now you'll care about me and what I have to say. But you don't. You care about losing me. You care about clearing your name. You care about making things better. But not me.

Tears fall as I read your paragraphs, each word like an arrow through my heart. Is it too much to ask? Can you for one second just stop about yourself and see how much I'm breaking?

And we continue to argue even though I didn't bring it up. You say the same things to me. I reply with basically nothing. You repeat yourself and I assure you that I have listened. I assure you that things will be better tomorrow. But how could they be? This is just another heartbreak I will bury in an unmarked grave.

Is this my destiny?

Or do I run after the misery?