Monday, September 13, 2010

And the hits just keep on comin'

I am haunted by these words:
"Apologies mean nothing when the damage is done
And you can't switch off my loving like you can't switch off the sun"

And even more potently:

"F-U-C-K: is that how you spell "friend" in your dictionary?"

I find it in my heart to question someone who calls you "friend" one moment, "partner" the next and in the aftermath from the end of a romantic cycle, sends you a text in which they seek your absolution. Are we in the world of the emotionally retarded or am I just prone to seeing everything in pure black and white?

Here are the facts: it ended. I heard and accepted that it was over from before the moment the words were uttered. That's all the criteria I need. I understand and absorb the English language well.

But don't text me (dear God, how it's finally come down to this--the impersonal and pointlessly cold manner in which we all conduct ourselves) and say "I'm sorry I disappointed you". Don't be so callous to say "I wish you happiness" and please, show some restraint and dignity: "...and that you don't hate me too much". Don't insult me like that. Pretend for a minute you had a modicum of respect for me.

I cared about this person; somewhere in my being, I'll always care about this person. But I find this action to be childish, shameful and pointless. I would much have preferred silence, at least for a while. Let the dust settle. Let time go by. Let whatever my wounds may have been heal. Don't be this self-serving. For once, it's not about you. This is about me. Me putting myself first again.

I am out of this before it went any further and I'll be grateful for that. This is not the "anger" phase, as most would expect after a break-up. This is me being shown the facts as they revealed themselves and sadly, me having to acknowledge them. As I have said so many times before, there was never any gun to my head. I could have very easily and quickly walked away from it at any time. I was told, I was warned, I was begged to not continue. And I didn't listen. So I share the culpability.

Let me move on and not pretend. That's all I ask. Should the fates decide that we reconnect someday as friends is one thing; just don't test me again--not now.

So Dear Madam Barnum: I resign as clown...


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