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The first thing I am to see is that she posted to your entry this week. Does that mean you are communicating again? I guess that is more than obvious.
I am dumbfounded sitting in front of the scorching lights of this screen. I am left to make up a billion harsh scenarios in my mind. I shouldn’t be so hurt but I might be anyway. Makes me have to wonder how long you’ve been in contact with her. Maybe you never stopped and I am left with the screeching reality that hammers so boldly in my head. These are the thoughts that hurt me. You might have disguised it as protecting my feelings. You might have slowly worked your way back in thinking you were strong enough to stay detached. You might have done a lot of things but I doubt any of it will be good for you. And quite frankly if it was the end of you and I then the thought only makes me more than a little sad. Maybe that’s why you quit me so easily.
Am I just too desperate for a reason that means something other than you just didn’t love me? Maybe.
Maybe I was never in your heart to begin with…After all, where would I have fit? In some corner of the right ventricle in a place where the dirty blood passes before coming clean. Maybe you are the fool – a fool for love, yes, a fool for one who is very likely a manipulative and cruel woman, yes, and a fool for not keeping something beautiful and healthy in your life, yes. Why would you do that?
I hate having any of these thoughts. They are sad and angry and useless. I just making it up in my head like someone who is crazed with the grief over the loss of love or you really are torturing yourself with the inevitable pain that it was before.
If I am right, here’s the thing that I believe now. I believe you should play it out. Play it to its inevitable end or play it to the sickening vortex it was before. Anything to see that it was meant to be or that it is over. Anything to help you come whole and be a person who can give to something real and beyond the imagined.
If I am wrong, then I want to find a way to believe…to believe in what was beautiful, to believe that it was real, to believe in my own heart and to believe in your love. I am begging for it.
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