I thought I was! So much lying I can't tell what was ever real.
Why wasn't I the one? Why wasn't I good enough? Why does she get to be with him? I want to be with him. But what I want DOESN'T EXIST! I want what it was so long ago. I want it to be I love you, you love me. No cheating or suspicion. No reassurances that I was the one he wanted to be with. Just BE WITH ME.
It does not exist. There is no WITH me without NOT being with her. There is no WITH her without NOT being with me. These things are totally c0dependent. They coexist. People meet, they spark they date and love, that is when it is possible to only be WITH someone. No counterpart of NOT someone else necessary.
That is the love we both need and deserve. But we are so fucked up, so attached, so thoroughly alive in worlds that were papier mached around us, full of holes and secret passages...but OUR LIVES were there and what we knew of them were IT. What we wanted. It feel real. All the promises and words and actions, the repentance. FELT sincere. It was! It was! That is the really epic part. How are we to ever feel that it ISN'T love, that we AREN'T the one, that our happiness ISN'T real, when it IS. He means it. The flaw is that subtle.
Truths truths everywhere, completely impossible because they at perfect odds with one another, totally contradictory. Unsustainable. But truths! How could we see through that?
How am I supposed to digest that now that I, who have had this HAPPEN TO ME so much more, so much longer, now that I have "come to my senses" or "Saved myself" or "finally gotten out" (Inside my heart this reads: lost, lost, lost. Lost my love. My life. My stability. My plans. My favorite person. Been replaced, been substituted. Been NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE LOVED) how am I supposed to just be OK with the fact that now that I have removed myself, someone else GETS my happiness.
Ah, says the rational voice of everyone else, but what kind of happiness is that? A person who is so duplicitous, so uncommitted to you, who didn't love HER enough in the first place to get rid of me? How can you call that happiness for them?
Well, says the Loser Voice in my head, because I wanted that to be me.
How deeply fucked is it to WANT to be the person who wins a flawed, abusive relationship that only FEELS like perfect love?
Well, it sure FELT like perfect love. People say, look. Look over here: a crack, a seam, a mis-stitch. Another woman, a whole other life. Months of lying. Sleeping with someone else! How was that ever perfect. But, somehow, in the shadow of his exceptional ability to separate to deny, to BE wholly where he is, with whomever he is with, mean whatever it is he is saying, we have managed to be equally as isolating.
You tell me you love me. You will visit. I believe you. I love you. This feels right.
Course, then it repeats in my head: well, he loved her a little bit more. I swing back and forth on this so much! He does now, now that they have the whole real relationship. I won that battled once. He told me ALL the time he picked me. He did! But not really, because you were never gone. NOW, switch it up. He loves you more, he tells you he picked you, but here I am.
No one was ever picked. No one was ever enough.
Then why do I feel so sad/rejected/alone/scared/weary/homeless/lost/jealous/hurt/pained/discredited/angry/
vengeful/desperate/needy/validated/meaningless/unhinged/freed/relieved/horrified and plain wishful...
that it was me there still. That it was me who would get another chance. That it was me who might get what I always have wanted. But it doesn't exist. Not for you either. Because here I am, and you two are only WITHOUT me.
And still, I wish it was me.
Circle, circle, circle.
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