I imagine that my heart is one thousand feet high.
I imagine my heart has a door in it.
My heart has a door in it, and on the other side of this door, is 'her'.
I imagine her face, that face that holds so many memories. I imagine it there, through that enormous doorway.
And I imagine that heaviest of doors, with its many locks and bars, and layers.
And I imagine myself closing that door, shutting out that face.
I'm locking it.
It's closed.
For the last few weeks, no matter how ugly things became, I always told myself that we could find a way back. I believed we could take each other by the hand, and find a way to recapture all that love, and to exorcise all the fighting. Forgive, and move on.
But we can't, because it's only me that wanted to.
She wants to escape me totally. I feel like a disease. I feel like a disgusting, worthless, all-corrupting malaise that has infected her and made her sick and angry. I feel like a word from me is like a virus, and it only serves to make her more ill.
I feel like my love is a poison, or worse still, just worthless excrement. I bring it to her, and she looks at it with disgust. "Why would I want that?"
It's so maddening to think of all the women I have been close to, and how many of them fought so hard to gain access to this love I never had for them. And the one time I truly gave it all up, and let someone have it, it's worthless and septic.
So I get the message.
This girl I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, wants nothing more to do with me. She wants me to get out of her life, and take my love with me. She doesn't want to keep in contact. She doesn't care what I do, or where I go, or what I think or how I feel. If I disappear completely, she will only be relieved.
So I'm closing that door.
And every creak of the hinges tears my heart open, because something inside me keeps saying that it's only now, and that if I can deal with the uncertainty and insecurity of never-knowing, if I can just hang in there somehow, that we can make everything beautiful. And I don't know where that voice is coming from, because it's not coming from her.
But I can't hold on any more. I want to, but I can't. Not when all I hear is "I don't love you", and "We are never going to be good friends." Not when the phone never rings, and every time she says we'll catch up, she never comes. Not when the people I know tell me how she's out all the time, in the worst sleaze pits this city has on offer.
I have to give her what she wants, a total absence of me.
And I have to give myself what I need...to cut myself off from this person who makes me feel like waste.
I'm not waste, I'm a person. I'm a person that made mistakes, as many as she did. At least I didn't give up on her. At least I stayed committed to the future we had planned, even after she decided to stop taking my calls. Would a bastard do that? At least no matter how bad our fights became, I never walked out and said "no more." I had faith we could get it right, with help from outside of ourselves. I promised her I wouldn't leave her, and I didn't.
But she left me, and I've had enough sleepless nights to think about it. I'm through worrying if she got home okay, from whatever meat market she left at 7 in the morning. I'm through wondering how she'll cope when she realises the people she's relying on right now don't have one ounce of actual love for her, or they wouldn't treat her the way they do. I'm over wanting to be there, waiting, still in love, when she realises that we went through far too much to just walk away and act like you can forget something like that and simply move on.
I know I'll never get over her. I know I will always wonder how she could become so heartless, against the one person in her entire life that supported her and loved her, and didn't always have one eye open for the next step up. How she could give up on the one person that never gave up on her. But that's my problem, not hers. I can't ask her anything any more. I have no access to her life. She's not even a friend to me. Unlike every other major relationship in my life, this one doesn't want to know me.
She's adamant I have no answers for her, no insight, nothing of worth or use.
I feel the bolt slide home, and crack closed.
And I feel no better than before.
But I have to remain positive, and there's no way I can do that, continually reaching out for someone who hates my hand.
So I have made my mind up, and my mind is "No more." No more thinking about her. No more concern for her. No more curiosity about her. No more her at all.
Ten months of my life, the promise of my future, my heart, and my hopes, I let them all go.
I am a new person.
"Onward and upward..."
This is knifey, from 'the internet'.
