Catharsis
“December 29, 2019
He kisses me when the lights are off, and I don’t mind. He pulls me close and caresses my cheek when the doors are locked, and I don’t mind. He peppers my cheeks with kisses, tickling my face with the stubble on his, for no reason at all, and I don’t mind.
There are moments, moments so brief, where he brushes my cheek, does he know I’m awake? I hope not. In moments of silence, when the quiet of the night creeps in, I open my eyes to watch him sleep. Quietly committing the peaceful look on his face to memory, does he know I’m awake? I hope not.
I hope he doesn’t know the way that I look at him, when I sleep in his arms or when he sleeps in mine. I pray that he doesn’t notice the way I look at him when he looks away, because if he did this little game of ours would be over. The one where we say we’re just friends enjoying each others company. The game where we pretend there’s nothing there.
But I don’t mind.
I enjoy these quiet moments, and bursts of uncontrollable laughter. I enjoy our adventures and our days spent on the couch. Our impromptu cooking and moments when you open up and share stories of a time before we met.
So here I sit, on the couch, with your head on my chest and arms around my waist. Saying nothing, but thinking everything.”
I struggled for some time, trying to figure out whether these thoughts were worth the effort of acknowledging. Correction, if I was worth acknowledging.
“I’ve detached,” I say to myself, “I’ve forgiven and forgotten.” Which is only half true.
These feelings expressed belong to a different person, a different person but still me. And I think it’s finally time to acknowledge her.
I read her words with immense sadness. The way she expresses her love knowing full well it’s nothing but a game approaching an inevitable end. Hindsight is always 20/20.
My heart wrenches in pain for the course I know she will follow is the one that will lead to me. Me, who is still tormented by the disregarding and trampling of my heart.
What hurts the most is knowing that she couldn’t guard her heart from the sheep in wolf’s clothing because she didn’t know she needed too. She didn’t know. And no matter how many times I scream, “WATCH OUT!” It echos right back to me.
I acknowledge the part she played. The part of the weak little girl that didn’t know how to love herself so she tried to find it in somebody else; somebody else that also didn’t know how to love themself.
I acknowledge the role that we both played in creating this mess. This wonderful, terrible, beautiful mess.
The role she played continued on for far too long because she didn’t want to accept who she was; she didn’t want to embrace her strength for fear of others leaving her. She didn’t want to but I will.
So, thank you, both of you. Thank you to my co-mess-maker for forcing me to confront my fear of self. Your actions, no matter how much they hurt, allowed me to acknowledge the person I am now.
Thank you to that girl that loved freely, without fear; never give up that spirit. I hope this helps you heal.