Part of me likes to think that if things had worked out differently, we would have been together forever. But I never told him that, and we had talked about me not saying things on the Internet that I can’t say to his face. Although, I didn’t really say anything to his face. All I said was, “I’m unhappy.” And he told me, “I know I can’t make you happy, so I’m not going to hold you hostage in this relationship.” Which felt generous, but, damn, after everything’s that happened I think I was hoping for a more scintillating conversation on the demise of our romantic endeavors. No, “I’m sorry, I want to make you happy” or “Fuck you, I’ve tried so hard.” Just: “Okay.” Which feels so unfair. After all the highs and lows – to just peter out with a whimper? No negotiation, no effort. Just: “Okay.”
I know that there are extenuating circumstances that contribute to these conditions, but as I speed away from everything that happened and glance at it in the rear view mirror, I can’t help but thinking, huh, that really wasn’t worth fighting for. Or fighting over. Just left it on the side of the road to die in silence and darkness.
That is so fucking frustrating and disappointing and boring. How is he one of the most exciting, interesting people I have ever met, yet we are letting each other go without a second thought. Don’t we believe in romance? And love?
The last break up I went through lasted ten months. This one lasted one hour. I was prepared to go down in flames together, but instead I’m here, alone, on fire, and feeling like this is less the spectacle that I got dressed up for and more like something that will die in the wind momentarily.
I guess there’s something merciful about it. But I don’t want mercy. I want rage.
So I’ll take my rage somewhere else, and burn down something beautiful with someone else. You will hear me screaming in the streets soon enough.