I don’t know what it was about our recent interaction…as small as it might have been. It brought me back to memories. Memories I care to forget. It’s true what they say. Sometimes people just leave an indelible mark. Whether good or bad, they just leave a mark. The mark I have is a mark that cannot be covered, or filled up, hidden or wished away. I just live with it and go on.
They say the best way to heal is to write. To write away all the pain. All the hurt. To leave it somewhere. And so I hope to leave some of it on these pages…in this journal.
How is it that after so long I still feel pain, anger, hurt, or sadness over someone who did me wrong….I don’t know. I can’t seem to shake it off. You don’t know how many times I ask myself “why”. Am I just that gullable? Was I just that in love? Was the pull I felt that strong? Am I the only one who still feels this way? Why was I so stupid? So blind to love?
It still hurts….still angers. The day you ignored me at the gym. How I got close to you and you dismissed me. How you didn’t acknowledge me…didn’t grab my hand…didn’t put your arm around my waist…didn’t touch the small of my back. The day at the sneaker store…how vivid it still is. How you seemed to be bothered by me. Burdened by me. I still kick myself for buying those insoles…the ones that cost just as much as those sneakers. What was I thinking? Why was I even there that day inside that store with you when I knew in my heart that your heart had strayed so far from mine? Why? It was so that I could connect….so that I could also embark in healthier living with you. To support you – to support us in making better choices. The same reason I was there with you at the gym.
The times I gave you money so that you could pay off loans a bit quicker. So that you could bring down your debt because I wanted to see you prosper and move forward…less worries. I wanted your victory to be mine. I wanted us to move forward together. The day I gave you money to pay for your flight when your stepmom passed. I tried to be there for you the best ways I could. You cried on my shoulder when you found out. Yet you were not there the day I needed you – my father’s passing. Why was I so blind that I could not see that a man who loves you does not leave you on one of the most important days of your life. The man that loves you drops the world to be there to support you and your family in any way he can. The day I loaned you money for a car. The day I loaned you money for that car….yes…I have to say it twice. That day hurts as well. My life savings…my hard earned money. But the worst part was that it wasn’t so much as the money, but because at that point you had already given up on us. Yet you took the money. You took the money knowing things were not right with us. Or rather, that you were not right with us. And I lovingly and naively gave it to you. Why? Why did I give so much, yet ultimately get so little in return?
The day (and days) you were looking through dating sites…already searching for another life. Another life without me. Looking for a replacement. A new conquest…a fresh start. Someone who could give you all the things I was lacking. I never believed your story. But I couldn’t bear to face the truth. Before your heart strayed, you told me I was beautiful just as I was. The same things you seemed to love and accept about me became the very same things you began to hate about me. And yes, it felt like hate. Your rejection began to feel like hate. Your lack of feeling and compassion. Your lack of communication. I don’t know exactly where it all turned. I don’t know when I started to become a burden. Because you didn’t tell me. You told others, but not me. I was blind. I didn’t understand. I asked what was wrong and got no response that made sense. And all the while my heart just kept sinking…and I kept praying God would bring you back to my heart. I kept praying he would make it all better. That he would fix it.
The day you didn’t come home. I waited for you. I was so worried. I was so hurt. You didn’t care. I was no one to you at that point.
The days I cried in bed…wondering why you had changed. Wondering what was wrong. The days I begged for you to tell me. I hurt so much.
And for all the time you never told me. For all the times I was fighting a losing battle to get through to you. For all the times I was fighting a war I didn’t know I was in. For all the times that you were testing me…and I didn’t know.
Why did I do all I did? Why did I fight so hard? Why did I continue to look for solutions? Why did I care so much? Why did I love so much? Why did I give you all of me and then some? It was always about you and me. About spending time with you, supporting you, loving you.
Is it wrong that I still feel hurt? Is it wrong that I still cannot seem to open up to love in my life? Is it wrong that I question everything? Is it wrong that some go through this and seem to move forward so quickly, yet I am still so far behind? I don’t know. All I can believe is that I need to be free to feel what I feel. That my time may not be your time. That my heart may take longer to heal than your heart.
All I can do is continue to move forward. Continue to shed these feelings – because they will dissipate in time. But in order for me to do that I need to be true to myself. I need to acknowledge what I feel. I can’t be ashamed of it.
One day I hope to not feel this hurt anymore. One day, I hope these thoughts and memories will no longer live in my mind, and these feelings no longer in my heart. One day, I hope that my heart can heal completely. I have faith God will help me reach that point. I have faith others will also help me reach that point. Because someone will have the heart and love I need. I just need to be open to it.
So I will strive to move forward daily and open up to the possibility that the next mark – because there will always be one – will be a good one. One that brings me joy, and not pain. One I can grow old with. One that will be worth the pain of my past. One that I will be proud and joyful to display for the remaining days of my life.