Dancing on the Doorstep of Brutality
When you truly believe you’re set for life; you pride yourself on the calm stability that’s become your relationship; the small steps continuously taken to reach what you thought were shared goals; and have no desire for anything materialistic; partly because you have perfection by your side & possess the belief that, in old age, each other’s love & support will beat anything that the planet could possibly throw at you.
When you get so consumed by the detail that you forget the bigger picture; when two years of difficulty, of depression & challenges of a nature unprecedented, wipe the floor with five years of warmth & growth plus all the love & fun that came in between;
When you never wanted this to begin with; you rejected & knocked back & continuously said no in fear of ‘love’ getting in the way of your aspirations; of seeing the world & making a difference in whatever seemingly insignificant or pathetic capacity…
But when perfection shone through & proved that the two could align themselves perfectly.
Or not, as is apparently the case.
When, despite wearing a ring on your wedding finger after a promise made ten years prior at a refugee camp, you start to believe a more significant one could be put in its place… only for that to be thrown to the wind like a plastic bag in a storm;
When the rug is pulled from beneath you, your face slammed against the kerb, the light snatched like a flick of a switch & nothing but emptiness & hollow echoes surround; when, in the blink of an eye, you see yourself disappearing into the abyss. Lost or free? Perception’s a powerful tool… Either way, searching for something you didn’t think you’d need search for again.
When, at my lowest, you can spit me out, fuck me off, brush me aside, like I’ve offered nothing all this time; and when you allow the words of others (supported by the blatant black hole that is my life) dictate an outcome so shit, so abysmal, so cruel & unnecessary.
When you’ve tasted perfection and know full well, there ain’t no one who’ll compare,
and when all you have left to your name is a legacy
of being a let down, a burden, a head ache, to almost everyone around you.
Humiliated, defeated and withdrawn… there are obviously two sides to every story; but these are my emotions. (Maybe I am an idealist, perhaps I should’ve started the meds?! There’s no doubt that he deserves better…) Either way, this is it. And just like our relationship, these words will fade into the past and serve no purpose in the end; irrespective of the impact at the time.