Words

The message. I cannot get it out of my head.  Beautifully written lies that will always reside in the inbox of my soul. Words are truly weapons of mass destruction. What a terrible liar you are. And you know it. And you don’t care.

I’m so hurt, I feel so betrayed. You might have tried to soften the blow but your darkness oozes among the niceties. Such a fallen angel you were! Still, you managed to blame me for mistakes that I incurred on, misguided by what you implied with your attitude and your words. You are not the only one that has an intuition. But my feelings blinded me and, even if I could see it coming from miles away, I still overlooked the red flags. They were everywhere.

I managed to write for myself a whole profile of who you were, of who I thought you were. I hate myself for it. I allowed my imagination run wild. Writing is a blessing, a catharsis. But trying to apply imagination to reality is the curse; it only leads to misguided decisions. Overlooking the reality only postpones the pain.

In your twisted note, you played the blame game, made me feel bad about not doing things that I did not know I was supposed to do. But most of all, I felt bad about falling too hard too fast. I am sorry that my feelings made you feel uncomfortable but I am who I am, I have a heart.  And I am human, I make mistakes. And no, this is not an apology. Because I am starting to believe you were planning to disappear all along. So funny I came across you again mere hours after the message. For the record, it was an accident; I did not do it on purpose. But of course you freaked out. Such a coward! You only replied to my plea because I appealed to your last remnant of conscience. Or maybe it was just pride.  Catching you red-handed reaffirms my belief that you do not have any integrity to start with.  And that the disappearing act was brewing for weeks. That break-up song was really an omen.

You left the best for last, the icing on the cake. I can only translate “different places” as “you were a great booty call”.  And that is rough because you are treating me as if I am stupid, as if I cannot read between the lines. You probably tried to soften the blow but the last few lines were even worse. You do not want to hurt me, but you in fact are doing what hurts the most. Suffering is not something you can avoid. You might not witness it, but it does exist. Yes, I am suffering. Probably more than if you gave me a chance, if you sat down with me and clarified, even labeled and tried to work with me towards a more satisfying solution. After all, you liked me... or so you said.

As I told you, I really want to thank you but this time not for your honesty, as there was none. I want to thank you for the short and amazing time we spent together, for making me discover great things, for opening new doors. And thank you for hurting me so bad.  You were lovely, but only in my mind.