It’s hard to face the truth that you have hidden from yourself all along and it’s hard to accept that the one you love doesn’t love you and never has. He spends his weekends with her and has a lonely existence during the week and I am nothing more than someone that writes shit that he reads. He needs to feel a connection with someone that has a mental illness, he needs to feel understood and he needs to touch another’s thoughts.
I am accepting the truth even though it is so fucking painful but I rather accept the truth than continue to live a lie. He has never wanted to be with me and I have been grasping at straws as I have so under valued myself. I fell for all his lies hook line and sinker like all the other fish but I am not a damn fish, I am a woman, a damn wonderful woman that has love seeping out of every pore and that will never change and it will continue to grow as I get older as I am getting softer and so much more empathetic.
He can spend his time with his “weekend warrior” which is nothing more than satisfying and not fulfilling and he is settling like I settled for the crumbs from him. One day, when he is old and alone he will think of a woman that he once had a virtual relationship with and he is going to miss her and wonder what if? I will eventually have another relationship and possibly marry but I do not know if I can ever love anyone the way I have let myself love him.
When we are young we have that all consuming love which we think will take us to then of our existence, I never had that love, yes at thirteen but that was not the love I should have had as it should have come in my early twenties but I was consumed in working and becoming independent from anyone. I was to busy being consumed with anger and hatred and always feeling cheated but those days are long gone with the emotions that consumed me for so long.
He won’t miss me as he has her to keep his mind busy and the other issues he refuses to speak to be about. I would never have rejected him but have tried relentlessly to try to help him and ease his emotional and physical pain. He has is wonderful weekend distraction that he will one day marry and live his happy fucking life with. I am mad, hurt and broken hearted but this is no ones fault but my own and I know that but just the same it fucking hurts.
I have no doubt he prefers the girlie girls, the ones that spend hours putting on make up and never so much as say hell, while I am completely the opposite and fuck is one of my favorite words which is not preferred by most but I do not care. I can tell him how much I love him but it falls on deaf ears and closed arms and I feel so empty as I ramble around this huge house without hearing the voice of single person or the bark of a single dog.
I don’t bother to get dressed as I hate clothes and frankly do not care what others think, as I have a lemon wedge in one hand and the fifth of tequilla in the other. As I drink straight from the bottle and suck on the lemon I aimlessly try to wipe of the tequilla I have split down my chest. I sat against the wall and let myself slide down it as I burst into tears of such overwhelming sadness and loneliness that I wish I could sleep, just sleep forever.
I can no longer write erotic fantasy life as the stories were always about us, just us but we do not exist and never did and we never will and the pain of knowing that is like a knife ripping through my chest and pulling out my heart. There is no pain that hurts more than to know the one you love doesn’t love you or even thinks about you but I cannot deny what is and what will never change, now can I?