“I’d like to talk to you about what happened to us maybe soon. I’m sorry I’ve been stalling things. I know you deserve that. It’s just I don’t know how to start.”
Some time after I left that house I shared with you, I went back and we talked. I thought things were doing better.
I tried steering and conversation to what happened between us, that day we parted ways.
“Don’t start,” you said. I thought it was because there was someone else with us. I waited for you to open up but it never happened. And then I knew you still don’t know how to start. You will never know how to start. I thought I can leave it like that.
“Let’s remain friends,” you said while we both were still crying. But I never felt there was an attempt at friendship. I was like a ghost in the house where I lived. Until one day, I decided to leave.
When we broke up, you asked me to stay in that house. But that day I packed my things, you did not stop me leaving. Did you really mean it when you said you wanted me to stay?
Can I ever believe you now?
But that seems too much to ask coming from a cheating, lying son of a bitch. And you knew of my secrets.
But I knew about yours, too. There are other secrets that can seriously hurt a relationship, aside from sleeping with other men. We both kept secrets from each other. This son of a bitch took yours in stride. But compared to infidelity, everything else is trivial, no?
You always gave the impression that you valued commitment. I value promises, too, even if I can’t keep them. Like you, enduring too many secrets and broken promises have built a dam of hurt and anger in me.
I couldn’t stand the careful myth-making. I couldn’t stand the made-up extravagance. I couldn’t stand the constant need for validation. No, I especially couldn’t stand the many fake friendships.
I suspect you grew tired of me because I didn’t worship you like you wanted. I saw you as a partner, as an equal.
It crushes me to think that this exaggerated public image I see now was of the same man I loved. Whom I started to build my future around. Whom, near the end, I chose over responsibilities and reputation. After all, I’ve already lost a lot of things in my life. Losing a little more wouldn’t make a lot of difference to me anymore.
I know what I got myself into. But did you?