Blog, Love, Personal

Destruction

I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about you. I know I’m not supposed to be wondering what your life is like now, who’s in it or what you’re currently going through. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about everything that happened, or replaying it all in my head. I’m not supposed to be going over all the events that lead up to this temporary end with you. I’m not supposed to be thinking about how it all affected me and in which ways, but the truth is I can’t help any of it. A part of me is full of curiosity.

You were always telling me that I would get hurt in the end. You were always telling me that it was going to end in tears for me and that even just talking to you was like playing with fire. I feel like you always knew how it was going to end but I was simply never prepared to listen to what you were actually saying and what you meant. Back then I still had the mindset that I could change the circumstances and that I could make it better for the both of us. In the end, though, me getting as hurt as I did was only enviable.

It’s been three months since I last spoke to you. I know this because I keep an eye on the days. I’m not saying that I sit at the calendar and count each passing day or anything, but that every so often I make a mental note that it’s been a week longer than last time, or however long has passed. It’s true that it gets easier to move on as the days pass and I get further away from what happened, but I never stop thinking about you completely. Still, you never leave my mind entirely. You still sit in a dark little corner of my mind and alert me of your presence every so often before retreating into the darkness again.

I know better than to wonder if you miss talking to me at all, or if you miss anything about me, really. I know better than to wish you did. I also know better than to wish you were the person I thought you were, wished you were and ultimately wanted to be. I’m not going to kid myself anymore into thinking you’re better than you actually are or that you didn’t do half the things you did that, intentionally or not, ended up hurting me and causing me so much emotional pain and torture.

As part of making the three month mark I let myself see a recent photo of you. You looked like how I imagined you to look after all this time. Remember that I haven’t actually seen you for so many years now, but you did send me that photo of you not long after we started talking again. It was the first I had seen of you since we went on the dates all those years ago. That photo was one you took while you were working at the bar. I know this because I have looked at this photo so much since you sent it to me that I can visualise it in my head when I close my eyes. I can recreate that photo in my head, every single aspect of it, without having to actually bring it up on my phone. I can remember how long and oval your face looked with the light brown beard that you were growing. I can see your dark eyes, slightly gleaming from the dim source of light behind you in the room. I can see your broad shoulders and the black T-shirt you were wearing at the time. I can see all the bottles lined up on the shelves behind you, illuminated by the lights perched by the brick wall. I can see the full lips and mouth that I’ve imagined kissing me so many times. Every time I looked at that photo it was like you were staring out, seeing out of the photo…like you could see me. It was like your photo self could see right into my soul, to my thoughts, secrets, fears, emotions…just like how I know you could in reality. I haven’t looked at that photo of you for at least six months now, but still nothing can take away how vividly it’s drawn in my mind. I still can’t bring myself to delete that photo of you, as silly as it might sound.

I’ll never be able to explain what the deep fascination was with you, but it was just that, a deep fascination. You drew me in, lured me into your cave without even asking me to follow you. You took me to the dark side…the dark side that is your life, mindset and way of thinking. You pulled me in without so much as touching me or saying a word. And then you pulled me under to a place where I couldn’t breathe anything other than thick, polluted air. I couldn’t see anything other than you. I could barely put one foot in front of the other. You took me to Hell and back. You wanted me to stay there with you, even though I know you would disagree with that and tell me that it was my own fault for staying as long as I did. I know you wanted me to be there with you, beside you, day in and day out. I know you wanted me to feel the pain and torture that you’re so used to feeling every day of your life. The pain and torture that a part of you loves to feel. I know how much you love your evil side, after all.

You told me that you were a monster but I didn’t believe you. Why would I want to believe that that was the truth? That you were really nothing better than a monster? Of course I didn’t think that was the truth. I always thought you were exaggerating as a way of trying to make me think the worst of you…but I always refused. I refused to think badly of you. I refused to think the worst of you. I refused to believe that you were who you said you were. Now I know that I should have taken your word for it and taken my own opinion with a grain of salt, since I feel like I never knew the real you at all.

And now you’re gone. Gone with you are the days and nights where I would constantly be wondering what was happening with us and why. Gone are the countless times I would wonder if you were okay, if you were alive or if you were tortured with self inflicted pain and wounds.  Gone are the times when I would cry myself to sleep, tears streaming down my face and into the darkness while I tried to be so quiet so that no one would sense my internal pain…the sort that only I could see and feel. I would try to tell myself that it would be okay, and to remind myself that everything would work out the way it was supposed to, but a part of me never fully believed it.

I’ve spent so many years cast under your strong and alluring spell, unable to find a way to finally free myself. In saying that, though, I know I should have left a lot sooner than I did. I shouldn’t have let it drag on for so long, but the truth is I just didn’t know how to let go or how to move on. It seemed like the hardest thing on Earth for me to do, and I felt like I really needed your help to free myself from all that was brought about by you at that time in my life.

Even after all of this, a part of me still thinks of you every couple of days – weeks if I’m lucky. I wonder what your life is like now, how it has changed, how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to. I wonder how work is going for you, and the new job that you had just recently started sometime last year. I wonder if you’ve found someone, in a romantic sense, or if you’re still alone. I wonder if you’re happier now that I’m not in your life, or if there is anything you regret and/or wish you could have back that I gave you. For example, how much I cared about you, wanted to be with you or how highly I thought of you. Do you wish you could have any of that back, or do you feel you’re better off without it all?

I wonder what kind of person you are, now, when no one is around to see the mask you wear and the act that you’re so good at keeping up. I wonder if you ever think about me. I wonder if you’re still the same sad, broken and damaged person that you were during all that time, if you’re still trying to self-destruct and become the kind of monster that you always wanted to be. I wonder if you’re still as dark and twisted as ever, and if you will ever change to become someone better than this. I wonder if I will ever see you again, hear from you again or know anything about you again…or will you simply disappear from my memory altogether?

It’s devastating. I feel such sadness when I think about on everything that happened with you. Even though I feel a definite sense of freedom that naturally comes with moving on, I still feel so deeply affected by you and I can only think that I will always be, in a way. You will always be able to get to me in a way that no one else will be able to touch or get anywhere close to. I can’t know for sure if that’s a good or bad thing, though.

You might not be in my life anymore and vice versa, but I can’t help but feel like you will always have a part of me. I suppose that’s to be expected when you go through as much as we did, and when you consider how much I felt for you and how much I genuinely cared for you. My feelings for you definitely brought an intensity that I’ve never felt before with anyone else. For me it was terrifying, unfamiliar but also somewhat exhilarating. A part of me wishes I knew how you felt about it all…but a part of me thinks maybe I never will.

Love,

Lucy Rebecca x

 

3 thoughts on “Destruction

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