why won’t you stay for me?

I haven’t felt alone in a long time. I’d like to think it’s a combination of on-and-off again therapy, the right mixture of medication, and a sense of calm that I’ve been settling into for the past 5 years or so. In fact, I’ve been taken aback by how well I’ve been accepting bullshit and moving on from it. Growth, as they say.

But I should’ve known better than to feel too safe in this new home. It’s that moment your guards fall that something knocks you to your knees.

I should’ve known better by now.

You crushed me last night. Under the guise of love and acceptance, you dug your heel into my chest until you carved a hole six inches deep in my heart. And as you stood there, looking off,
away from me,
away from the blood filling your shoes,
away from my eyes crying for you,
all you could do was talk about “love”.

As if you could possibly know what love is after what you’ve done.

After seeing me through the times I did this to myself. Took my own heart and crushed it between my fingers. You’ve seen me drink myself to disillusion. You’ve seen me reckon with the mess that I’ve made. And you know there have been a lot of them. You’ve seen me cry and shake and beg for it to stop. Beg for everything to be over so we could all finally stop hurting.

And now this is what you have to say to me? After possibly the greatest moment of my life, you decide now is the time to take that moment away? To instead douse it in this stench of your disapproval?

Do you think that saying I am still the same person you always knew is going to make my heart break any less? Because you’re not that stupid. In fact, you’re not stupid at all.

And that just makes it even harder to breathe.

‘Cause I know you have thought about this. Worked these words over in your mind for days, weeks in advance of sending them. I know you put in every effort you could into making sure it conveyed the right message because that’s what you do. You think and you think and I loved you for it.

I say loved but unlike you, my love is not conditional. I wish it were. I wish I could just say my belief system that I’ve chosen forces me not to accept anything less than an unconditional love I deserve from those closest to me.

It doesn’t though. For whatever reason, I am still holding on to you even as everyone tells me to let go. Even as you tell me you’ve already let go.

I love you. I say this as you dig your foot in further. Digging your heels into this belief system you’ve bought into.

I love you. I say this as you tear a hole in my lungs, each one, just big enough so I can’t get a full breath.

I love you. I say this as you turn your head away and wipe my tears off your feet.

I wish you loved me too.