In life, there are people who you refuse to give up on. Why? Because you believe that they need you. Or you feel a responsibility for them. As I did for him.
I’d left him in a dark place of which i felt i needed to help him leave, but as he resurrected the words in my mind I knew it was over. His eyes burrowed the trail for my tears which fell from my profile like heavy hearts of lovers. Hurt and anger rose in my heavy chest. His spiteful words spat at my hope whilst his indulgent blue eyes pierced the illusion that we should be able to continue our ordeal.
Pain, dissapointment and sheer anger bubbled into a mixture of letters which made the words I never before had the will to say.
I cried to the stars of how I despised the timing of his realisation that I was no longer the person he believed me to be.
I felt so frustrated, so hateful of him. Of the person I wanted to love. I feared his hate as i was unexposed to it. I craved his approval but at the same knew that if I were to walk away with a piece if my hurting heart I had to put to rest my minds unrest.
And so I did.
I told him of how my anger raged as he humiliated me. Of how I felt unworthy because he was too cautious. Of how I wanted to help his sorry self but the frustration he caused me by not allowing me to help him only made me feel useless. So useless I questioned my reality. So useless I questioned our entire existence.
As venom poured from my words and I saw their imprint in his eyes I knew we were not the same. I knew he didn’t respect me. I knew he didn’t love me. I knew for life of me that he and I were no longer in the same universe and to me he no longer existed.
The pain no longer existed.
The love no longer existed.
The want, the care, the undying responsibility and need to love someone no longer held a place in the stars that made the person he saw before him.
As I walked away I felt my troubles and burdening emotion die with the flowers beyond the window. I felt free and liberated but in the same moment a deep sorrow over came me. I knew that was end and I was deeply saddened by this.
I couldn’t fathom the idea that they wouldn’t believe me. It never even crossed my mind, that they should think I made it up. But its true, unfortunately it wasnt the first nor last time it would happen. Even S said so herself “you deal with it well for a situation that is claimed to be as bad as it is” but S believed me. Only because she’d been at my house. She had seen it for herself.
But the idea that K and B didn’t believe me, it angered and frustrated me but also it made me sad. Sad to think that people I claimed to be my friends didn’t actually believe what I told them about my life. S’s relay of their words repeated in my head “The thing about her is, its hard to believe what she says. You’ve only known her a short while, but we think she makes it up sometimes”. The thing that is most frustrating, is that I have given them no reason not to believe me when I tell them about my life and the past year. Its all been hard enough, and I now had to convince them? And it wasn’t as if their lives were so good and problem free as both of them (as most people) have been through difficult times, what was it about mine that made it unbelievable? The fact I was kicked out? The fact I hadn’t seen my family in nearly a year? The verbal and physical abuse? Or was it just because as S had said? That I put on a front that fools them into thinking I’m fine. That’s all I can assume.
This is why I don’t talk about my past five years. Because not only can no one help, and the majority of it is over, but because no one is caring enough to believe that I have experienced what I say I have. Everyone is happy accepting my facade so long as they don’t have to deal with any of the real stuff. And that hurts, but its why I pretend everything is okay. I guess I had gotten so used to living like this that I forgot it’s abnormal to most. And its only reassured me that pretending its okay is the only way to deal with it.
It can be hard to know how a day will plan out. But sometimes your instinct tells you that the day ahead will be one to test you. To make you doubt yourself. To highlight all of the problems you hid away. Yesterday was one of those days. I had the surreal experience of bumping into my father. The father I haven’t spoken to in 11 months. The man whose daughter disappointed so deeply he had nothing to say to her when he happened to see her.
It was surreal, for so long I had hidden any feelings and all at once I was confronted with them.
I saw him immediately as I turned the corner. My stomach dropped as I am sure my mouth did. I felt nauseous and lost. My gut instinct was to run to him and wrap my hands around his large stomach and squeeze him with all I had left. I wanted him to know how much I loved and missed him.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Instead I stared and in doing so, I caught his eye. The bleak half smiles exchanged were so contrasted to the full blown happy smiles we used to exchange. After that I stared at the floor and prayed that Grandma wouldn’t see him. Seconds later I heard her call him, I turned away in disbelief. Shaking and nauseous I tried to hold back tears. My sound was blocked out. I felt as though I was submersed in water. Grandma’s voice called me from a distance and asked to me to say hello to my father. I turned to him. We stared at each other. His eyes said all I needed to know. Neither of us said anything. I raised my hand as a greeting. Then my self-control no longer kept my tears at bay. Whilst my Grandma continued her idle and desperate talk I shook as hot tears cascaded down my pale face. I paced up and down trying not to vomit as I debated on whether or not to walk away but I couldn’t think straight. So I just stood for a few more seconds until I could take it no more and my weak legs carried me away. No less than twenty seconds later I was sobbing and my Grandma was behind me with her arm on my shoulder. I pushed her off wiped my tears of betrayal and walked to the car.
In the car I just stared. Oblivious if the cruel world that surrounded me. I held in my emotions until I passed the threshold of my door and closed it behind me. Then at last I sobbed and silently wailed until I could no longer stand or breathe. I lay and composed myself.
I showered quietly. Not thinking. Not crying. Just following my auto pilot’s orders
In life we get second chances. I have had many, and I am not sure how much longer my ‘one last thing’ attitude will last me. I wasn’t expecting the text from him. But I got it. I didn’t know that he would come after me. The winks and cheeky comments were just banter to me! Now, I can see that he misread me. But there is a part of me that allowed him to misread me. A part of me that wanted him too. Now I have got what i want, but unlike with F. I may not get away with this one. F. may have been my last chance, now I feel I am pushing fate. I know that if I’m caught with him , I will have to move out. And that is a risk I shouldn’t take. But I am. But I will.
Because despite my head telling me to settle down and behave. To keep out of harms way. I always take the risk.
I believe the main reason I do this is to test not only the boundaries, but myself. I want to see what I can take. What I can, under a certain amount of pressure and with something to loose, how far I can go. What will stop me? What will be the one thing I don’t risk? As so far I risked everything and everyone. Never have i come across something or someone and thought to myself “should the time come, I will never risk you. You mean too much to me.”
I also take risks because they are what make me feel alive! They are what make the future unpredictable. We cannot predict the outcome of a risk, a chance, a whim. And that is why I love it. My entire life has been predictable. Not in the sense that life events happened as they should, but in the sense that, put in a situation I know what will be the outcome. Others are too easy to predict and if it’s not them, it’s me. I know what the majority of my boundaries are. But I want to make them fool proof. The reason being, should I meet my match I want to know my own weakness.
And it appears that L. is my most current risk.
And it was a risk worth taking.
Being with him was the most sensual and full of life thing I have experienced. He made me feel so feminine and worthy. I know that what happened between us was not love, but a mutual appreciation for one another strongly fuelled by lust, want and rebellion.
The hurt that she caused made her feel so sick, so inhumane and isolated that she felt no place here. She knew what she had done was wrong, but things don’t happen like this, she was supposed to be forgiven, and they should have seen it was a mistake. It was unintentional. It made no sense that she would want to cause so much pain to so many people she cared about.
She saw that it was too late, the dead pain in his eyes told her there was no going back, no being forgiven, no forgetting. She’d hurt him more than either of them could have imagined, and that’s what blew her mind the most- she didn’t even know she was capable of being loved, let alone destroy the person loving her.
The relentless guilt and pain washing over her now, was a mirror image of what she had felt a year before when she walked out of her house, family still inside. She kept making the same mistakes, and every time it was genuine mistake of bad judgement. Every time it was unintentional and every time she regretted it so badly she swore never to hurt those she loved. Every time she swore never to lie again. To always be faithful, loyal and truthful.
Sitting on her bed now, staring viciously out of the window with boiling tears sweeping down her cheeks, she realised that those qualities- faithfulness, loyalty and truthfulness- they were all qualities she wasn’t good enough for. She wasn’t blessed with them and now she was to spend the rest of her life losing the ones she loved because of it.
He was handsome, ruggishly handsome with an air of invincibility about him. He was laid back and cool, nothing appeared to bother him. This made him even more… Desirable. His Scottish accent livened my nerves and his electric blue eyes set me alight.
The night continued, the light headedness made everything that bit more exciting. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as we broke into the cinema building site. The sky had begun to lighten; he and I sat on the steps. He laughed. His laughter was like magic, and although I’d only know him a short while, I knew his laughter would be something I would continue desire to hear.
He looked at me for a moment. I saw the world in his blue eyes and for a moment I felt something.
Words whispered from his mouth, a smile grew across my face and I tried to hold his gaze but couldn’t. A nervous laugh escaped from me. I felt the tension between us, it was as strong as the metal framework that structured the building. It was what I found out to be love.