I've been crying out for help for weeks now. I use social media since I have very few friends, and even fewer I can count on. Always having been a private person, I've had to close off in a lot of ways. It's always been difficult for me to trust people. Part of that stems from having been abused and neglected as a child. Part of that stems from having been betrayed many times over since then. It's almost easier to cry out in a way where there's no disappointment if nobody responds.
Some people have been responding though, most notably my aunt. Today we had a nice chat through Facebook. While it didn't make me feel any better, it brought up some interesting points. She reminded me that the most obvious reason why things had gotten to this point was that my ex was hiding things and unable to take the responsibility of those actions. It still feels weird to write, "my ex." I don't know what else to call him besides, "love of my life and pain in my aching heart."
What she failed to comprehend, and what I failed to properly tell the "lomlapimah," is this: I don't care about what he was hiding. I fully accept who he is. I know his love meanders. I know his trust is the hardest thing won and the easiest thing lost. I know HIM. He may not fully appreciate that now or ever, but I know him. I've taken the time to understand him. When I say I love him, I don't mean some ideal, or some version with slight tweaks. I mean him. The man he is, the man he isn't. I love all of it.
Did I want more attention? Yes. Did I need more honesty? Yes. Despite that, I forgave him for his lies. In calling him on them I didn't mean to drive him away, or make him think I didn't love him. I only wanted to let him know that there was no reason for them. That's what hurt me. The pain came from knowing that he could have told me anything and I would have accepted it and forgiven him.
This I can't accept. This running away from me is unbelievable, unforgivable. I don't believe he will ever find anyone who can. I want to tell him I'll be there for him at the end of it all. I want to take care of him, but he doesn't need it. I want to support him, but he won't allow it. I want to break through the barriers.
This is how the future will go: He's already found his next boyfriend. He wouldn't have left me if he hadn't. He and Jonathon will be happy for a few months. Their issues will seem compatible, then they will diverge. I will be waiting, still. I will be holding on to his memory.
What I want out of this life is to be by his side. It's not too much to ask, but it's a whole lot to expect, more now than ever. Not having that to look forward to is driving me crazy. I can take one pill a day, that is no problem at all, but I can't figure out what to do with myself, what goals to try to achieve, without the hope.
I don't really have too many people I can talk to. I stopped counting on my family long ago, and stopped allowing them to count on me. I stopped opening myself up to people who only seemed to want to use that knowledge to wound me. I became a shell, a mirror, a mirage. I allowed one person to become my family. He was my husband, he was my best friend; often my only friend.
There is nothing I wouldn't give or do to make things right with him, but it is not in my hands. Forgiveness, he has it and I need it. Acceptance, he has it and I need it. Tolerance, he has it and I need it. Everything I am is a psychic clarion, calling him back to me, every single second of every day. I've done many things I'm not proud of in the past, but in giving my heart to him I have only one regret, and it is this: my heart believes.
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