I was once the foundation for all my friends. I was once happy, cheerful, easy to get along with. I went through hell, abused all my life by my mother, abused even worse by the people I loved and cared about. And the stone that I was made of has cracked. I'm left with nothing to hold onto, just what little honor and pride in my values I had left... and now even those are gone. All that I have left are my cats.
Let's cut to the chase, shall we? I've broken. Broken beyond what I can fix alone. And why? Because of a lapse in judgment, because of a little outburst, because of my shattered, bleeding heart begging for the love of someone who wouldn't give it. Words so harsh, so sharp, they split me open and there are no stitches to heal this.
Why? I was mad. I had every right to be. How did I throw him away? I asked him if I could fix it! How did I hurt him? How did I blame him? No, all the blame was on her. It still is. I simply humor them. The last thing he wanted from me was to be friends with her. Friends, never. Civil, yes, for his sake. But if she wanted to be friends with me, then her behavior would show it. Actions speak louder then words. BITCH!
He claimed to love me, but if he did, he would have given me the chance to calm down, he would have listened to my grievances. He said I don't take responsibility for what I do. I blamed mostly myself for what happened! He states still that he'll never find someone who loves him for him. That was all I had, that was all I gave, love, pure and undemanding. I was willing to be patient. To wait for him to feel ready to commit. Who else would do that for someone so unagreeable? He wouldn't listen to my reasoning, that I was mad not because the events happened, but because she was my friend, or at least she tried to be.
Then her mate. I had nothing against him. I still don't, for the most part. My own fault. Such a slut. What little honor I had left is broken. And the guilt adds to the deep pain.
I just needed time to figure it all out, to see where all the faults lay. There was enough blame to go around for everyone, including me. Lack of clear communication on my part.
But I'm tired of being so jerked around. So tired of it. I still feel like they have some kind of game going on. They're still trying to hold me to this, giggling amongst themselves until they drive me to madness. And yet my heart still prays that he'll see the fault in what he did, and what he said, that he'll offer his hand to me again. I long for his touch, his kiss, feeling him near. I still feel like I'm connected to him, but it's my own fucked up wishful thinking, begging for something good to come along at last.
I'm so tired of the abuse. So very tired. There is more to me then a body. There is more to me then just the flesh. And yet that's all anyone ever seems interested in.
I just want to find someone who is willing to forgive my manic, often random behavior, the same way I'm willing to forgive in return. Dammit, is that so rare? I guess. I'm expected to apologize every time I have an opinion of my own, when I feel hurt and say so. I'm expected to forgive everyone of their faults. Where is my forgiveness? Where are the apologizes to me? None of them apologized to me. That they helped with this further crumbling of what sanity I had left, of what little honor I had for myself. No, I was the one apologizing and beseeching them for forgiveness for my outburst. All for what? Because they were the ones who hurt me? How did I hurt them? I spoke, they acted! These are not equal.
Ok, at least I got that little bit off my chest. It's not as much as I wanted, there's just so much more I want to say, but I'll never get the chance, not to them like I would like. So much I want to say to their faces, but never gonna get that chance. Not like they care to hear that I have a voice.
Current Music: Take a Bow- Muse