Monday, December 1, 2008

Fuck You.

This is not a relationship blog, but it is my blog. And I can do whatever I please on it. If you don't like it, don't read it. If it hurts you to read it, I don't care. If it bothers you that others will read it, I don't care.

Because if I don't somehow get what I'm feeling out somewhere, I think I may follow my heart and shatter into a million pieces.

I want the whole world to know how much I hurt right now. Because of you it feels like all of my cautious hopes and plans were ripped out of my heart and dead before I even knew what had happened.

I couldn't be crabby around you, no matter now tired I felt or how hard I tried. Whenever I felt sad or angry or impatient, I would just imagine the look you had on your face that night in Silverton and it would make me smile. I laughed all of the time. I felt sexy and loved and safe. Your passion for your job helped give me the balls to make some changes in my own life. I wanted to share some of those ideas with you tonight, before you broke my heart.

And I was so very hopeful, that after so many false starts, that this would stick. Because after everything that I've been through, I deserve something that would stick.

Now? I feel impotent and alone and foolish and used. And full of blind rage. And of shame to admit that I would get down on my knees at your feet and beg you to reconsider if there was any chance that you would.

I still have photos on my camera from Thanksgiving, only a few days ago, where I took you to a beautiful place and we laughed about riding in snow and mud. We made bourbon milkshakes and laughed some more. We cuddled by a fire and read nerdy books.

But you had already quit loving me by then. If you ever even loved me at all.

Maybe we got too close too quickly. Maybe I should have noticed when the sex became a bit less frequent (i figured it was just the bikes and the training and my prolonged funk) or when you quit telling me you loved me unless I said it first. Maybe I smothered you without even knowing it. Maybe you're scared. Maybe I should have made it more clear that I never wanted you to change who you were for me, that I understood your drive and goals and that all I wanted was to be your girl and have lots of adventures. Maybe, maybe.....

What I do know is that I probably won't sleep tonight. Because the only thing worse that the hearbreak is waking up in the morning and knowing that you've got to start all over again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You'll be ok, I promise. But in the meantime, go ahead and be not ok. And be loud about it. And blog your heart out. Fuck it.

I am always at the other end of an electronic device or car drive or bike ride if you need me.

xo