There will come a point in which I will have to ask myself, “will I ever be healed enough for anyone?”
I spent my days in isolation, lonely in my thoughts, tiptoeing around the uncomfortably thick air of which was you. Many had asked if I was sure you were the right one for me. Perhaps they saw something I couldn’t. Well maybe I didn’t want to see it. I was convince you were to be my beginning, middle and end. How was I to know it was wishful thinking. I accepted your deception, your storytelling of what I wanted in a mate. You molded your words and behavior to fit within my desire. All because you desired me. I never got to know who you were until we were tied at the knot. That’s when you let down your guard and stepped back into the skin you felt comfortable in.
I will never forget the time you said you loved me, but believe me I’ll try. I also will also never forget when I realized “love” was a word you insert where it made sense, yet it carried no true meaning. Maybe that’s not fair of me to say. No, it’s the truth. Here I am still second guessing my thoughts and feelings. This wasn’t your doing though. I’d been conditioned this way long before you, with cracks in my vase that metaphorically represented me. It could’ve been why we became an us in the first place. I second guessed all the red flags and bleached them until they no longer held pigment. I made excuses for you and you continued to make them in routine.
You know, I’d been disconnected from you for a long time. It felt like forever, though seven years would be more accurate. Seven long, miserable years of convincing myself to stay. You so called tried to hang on to me, only you were clinging because if I was gone you would feel like a failure, not because of your meaningless use of the word “love”. I will be the one to break it to you, I don’t expect anyone else around you will, you’ve failed. You have failed. Your failure started before we became an us, as you began it with dishonesty. Don’t you worry, I failed too. This isn’t a one-way street. I failed myself. I got lost in your fantasy and failed alongside you.
I’ve met the real you in those final months. There is a saying that I heard once, “everyone has a personal devil on earth”. You introduced him to me and the resemblance was uncanny. You can tell who a person truly is in difficult and uncomfortable situations and you, Sir, you had emerged into your truest form. Your mental warfare was more strategic and creative than what you did in the bedroom. For a while you had me thinking I was doing things to you, when all you did was take from all the things that made me, me. You stomped to the garage and took your mallet to shatter the vase that was me. What you didn’t know was that I’d been collecting my shards and tucking them away. I fought the end of us just as hard as I fought to save the pieces of me. Five years ago I found something within myself that could hold my pieces like a strong adhesive. I’d been slowly reassembling my vase, while you were none the wiser.
Now that I’m on the other side, who will want to hold onto my precious gem of a vase? It looks like it will shatter at first glance, yet it can still hold flowers. When is it appropriate for me to move on? I’ve been emotionally detached and healing from within long before that door closed, but will anyone understand? Am I to explain that on every first date?
“It’s only been a few weeks, you can’t have moved on so quickly.”
“You should wait until you’re done healing.”
“Give it more time.”
“I don’t think you’re ready.”
“Should you be on a dating site so soon?”
“You only got divorced a month ago?”
Should I be alone for years to fit your timeline for my healing? Or perhaps you will trust me to know when I’m ready.