Twenty 03.04.10

I know I am breaking all the rules of "breaking up" with you. I know I should be deleting your phone number, but I can't bear to do it. I should throw away everything you ever gave me, but I cherish each and every scrap of paper and gift you ever gave me like they are the fingers on my right hand. I WILL NEVER BURN A SINGLE LETTER YOU EVER GAVE ME, NEVER EVER, EVER. I should stop acting like you are ever going to contact me, because I should know better by now after what you said: this isn't hurting you so badly. I knew the moment you spoke to me on Monday I should just STOP because you probably want nothing to do with me and you are just being nice to me because that's how kind and compassionate you are. I should stop having my heart skip a beat every time I hear your name and also every time I say it.

I should stop telling you I love you.

I knew that would shut you up tonight when you were texting me. I knew if I said that you'd stop on a dime. That it might even piss you off. I knew that by saying it I could be fucking EVERYTHING up. Just like I knew when I dropped off some of your things tonight that I shouldn't have left you that note. I KNOW I SHOULD STOP SAYING I WANT TO BE WITH YOU AGAIN. I KNOW I SHOULD STOP TELLING YOU I MISS YOU. I KNOW I SHOULD JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DISAPPEAR OUT OF YOUR LIFE FOREVER IF I KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR US BOTH. I should change my phone number so you can't call me. I should move and not give you my address. I should stop talking to our mutual friends and just surrender them all to you so you never have to hear about me again. I should just know that you will never come to therapy with me or ask me to another of your sessions. I should accept the fact that I will never see your mother and father again and know what it's like for them to call me "B" and say they missed me. I know that I should be waving the white flag of defeat stained with the sweat of my desperation.

I should be acting like I'm so happy and free. I should be acting like anything remotely related to you doesn't concern me. I shouldn't care that you are out having fun, without me. I should stop thinking about how I am having fun without you even though I wish you could have some of these experiences with me because I know you would love them and I adore the way your face lights up when you are having fun. I should stop thinking about you all the damn time. I shouldn't be thinking about you when I'm out with my friends the way you pop into my mind and I find myself almost saying "Sasha would love that!" I should stop feeling my being glow with love when I remember your eyes, your smile, your hair, your scent, your body.

I shouldn't be thinking about you when I touch myself, when I come I should stop whispering your name. I should be filling my mind with faceless women I have never met and have yet to fuck. But the thought of touching anyone but you makes my cunt dry up like the Sahara and a bleeding stabbing pain rent through my chest. Don't even ask me what happens when I think about someone else fucking you. You don't want to know...it only ends bloody, but not for you or for them, for me. I shouldn't be thinking about you when I walk my dog, or pay my bills, or park my car.

But I do.

I know it sounds like I'm obsessed, I'm not. You have nothing to fear with me I would never turn stalker or psycho. I know you have had your fill of that already. I assure you I am more afraid of you than you will ever be of me because you have the power to level me with total silence. I'm sure if I were you and saw me right now, and read all the pathetic whining and lamentation in these poorly written letters, I would be over me like that. Snap your fingers, I'd be done with me. I'm sure that this is exactly what you always wanted out of me: pathetic, needy, disgusting me. I'm sure that these letters are so compelling to return to each day, just to hear me BEG like a beaten dog out loud on the internet for you to return to me. I am sure that this whole spectacle makes me look like some kind of crazy groveling moron, that you are just holding your breath until I leave you alone finally and you can get some peace.

Even this, right now, is me breaking the "breaking up" rules. I shouldn't be telling you this shit. I should spare you the melodrama and leave myself cloaked in mystery so you might come back for more. But I just can't help it. I could never deceive you. I want you to know what is going on, how I feel, how I still love you and want you. I want you to know that I am healing, but also that I am in pain without you by my side. I want you to know that I will never be able to follow the "breaking up" rules with you. I will not be able to not tell you how I love you in either these ridiculous letters or my broken wavering voice when I cry about you. And maybe for these reasons you SHOULD know, so that when you finally decide to be rid of me, you can speak with finality and tell me "Get the fuck out of my face, I will never want you again."

When I got home last night, already a fresh migraine brewing in my neck and skull, I tore through the bag you left for me. And I was the very spirit of confusion.

So many questions ran through my mind. Questions you will not answer until I see you again and probably then I will chicken out and never ask you...

Why did you give me the teachings of Michael, are you rejecting that I was ever your essence twin? Did you forget you said you felt like I was your essence twin too? Was 3 weeks all it took for you to "wake up" and realize you didn't feel that way anymore? Now that you are done with me are you no longer spiritually inclined towards the path you started down? Did you abandon Wicca? Am I fool for having shown you any of the mysteries that I have learned over the years, for binding my energy to you? Have you already forgotten what your fairy guide said to you about me that night up at Skyline when we both had a chance encounter with the divine? Have you forgotten the tarot reading I gave you on Yule? Did you think the Tarot reading I did on day nine was full of shit? Have you put all that behind you, just like you are putting me behind you?

Why did you give me Transformers and Pirate coloring books? Why did you give me that Spider man toy? Did you mean to leave one of your bracelets in the bag? The blue Chinese one with the flowers inlaid in brass and colored stone? Did you know that your lip liner and your express buttons fell into the bottom of the batman bag you gave me those things in? Were those toys and games supposed to be gifts? How long did you have them for? Are you having trouble, like I am NOT buying things I know you would like when I walk by them? Only stopping to put them away when I catch myself at the register or my friends ask me, "what are you doing?"

Why did you return the things I gave to you? They were yours...I don't know why you would do that to me, are you mocking me? Why did you return the Pirate shirt I gave you? Why did you return the Syd CD I bought for you and gave you back the day after you broke up with me? Why did you give me the Anne Rule book and the FBI profiler books? Why did you put it all in a trash bag? Was that just to keep it out of the rain? Or was that something more symbolic I was supposed to infer? Were these reminders of me just "trash" you had accumulated over the last 2 years and you were finally throwing it out?

And the only question I really am dying to know the answer to: WHY did you give me the key to the handcuffs back attached to the "Vegas" key chain I brought to you the first time I met you??? Why would you give back the first thing I ever gave you? You kept the cuffs. I know you have another key because I bought them for us and they came with a pair of keys. I even know where you keep it, around a necklace chain, I used to love to see you wear it around your neck like that. Why return that to me? Is that supposed to mean something? Is that supposed to mean something?? Am I supposed to know that it means you still want me? That you are letting me keep the key to your heart? That someday it will be reunited with those handcuffs? I don't want them back, I gave them to you to remember me by, to know that you could keep the keys and the cuffs because my heart is bound to you by more then metal loops. It's bound to you with my soul's light.

Please don't think of me with anger or irritation. Please don't say a nice word to me, it's only encouraging this insane hope I have that you want me. It's only keeping me enthralled with you when I know, I know you must just be waiting for the day you can be fully rid of me with baited breath. You already told me: this isn't that hard for you. I know, you know you're doing the right thing. I know there must be sweet relief and comfort in that that knowledge I will never know. It must be so very different for you, it must be easy for you to just put me out of mind and heart and just move on. You must never spend your time with backwards glances or hopes for the future. But I can't say the same because you, you make me feel love in every atom of my being. And I never want that to stop.

I can't believe that you said you think I will love anyone more than I love you. I can't believe that you implied I would move on someday and stop loving you. I was so hurt, so crestfallen when you said that. Is that what you think? Is that what you really honestly believe? You think I could just get over you and move on and find someone that I would love better? Are you insane? There is no one that I want in my heart and my soul more than you. There wouldn't even be a chance in hell that I would turn my eyes away from you and try to see that love reflected in anyone else. I know it will never be possible for me to move my heart away from loving you. I will only be able to settle for something less than what I want, what my soul finds gratification in, what my body will sing for.

Last night I read your letter. Dear god I think I've read it 80 times since. Why do give me any hope to hold onto? Why are you kind and beautiful and loving? Why can't you just expose me for the idiot I am? Why can't you just rip my tender flesh and eviscerate me so that I can crawl away to lick my wounds while I bleed out? Why can't you just tell me to go to fucking hell? Why would you give me that key back? Why would you write what you wrote in your letter to me, that this is not "goodbye"?? That I am in your heart and your thoughts? That you are inspired by me still? What the hell is inspiring about this? You think it's inspiring that I should love you past the point of reason? That loving you still, even though you are not with me and may never love me again brings me joy and peace I cannot fathom?

You told me you don't want me to move on, and that its a selfish part of you that feels that way. Bullshit. I'm the selfish one. Because I keep hoping and praying and wringing my hands like dirty dish rags wishing that one day we'll be together again. I keep hoping and praying you don't move on and find someone else to take your hand. I keep hoping and praying that you'll see me and I'll look in your eyes and know that you are still in love with me and want to be with me again, but that you are just scared. Just a little gun shy because you don't want it to get messed up again. I keep hoping and praying that you will see me and still think I'm beautiful, that you will still want me, that you will reach out and kiss me. I keep hoping and praying that you will write to me again someday the way you used to. I think about never having another letter from you like those and I DIE INSIDE A THOUSAND TIMES. I keep thinking that one day you might write like that, OR BETTER, for some new girl and I just want to close my eyes forever and never wake up.

I know, I'm breaking all the rules with you. I know I fucked up tonight telling you I love you. I know I'm probably driving you away from me and I am just a fucking asshole. I know I'm not what you need or want. I know, I should stop. I should stop, but I can't. I love you too fucking much. I can't just turn it off and make it go away. And I know that with the way I feel, I will never stop feeling this way as long as we are not lovers. I know that I've lost my best friend, my true love, and my essence twin. I know I should stop hoping that you'll come back, but I CANNOT DO THAT.

So I'll just ask you to understand, and show me some compassion from time to time. Show me a little tenderness and some heartfelt sympathy since this is not hard on you but it's fucking killing me. I am fully aware that it sounds like I'm crazy, like I'm being a bastard by whining to you about how heartbroken I am, that through all this I am making myself so unattractive the only way you would come back is either if you deluded yourself or you really enjoyed charity cases. Please understand my intentions are pure and filled with love. I am not trying to manipulate you, invade your space, or guilt trip you. I think about how you used to talk about her writing to you and how it used to piss you off and I just start crying thinking that if you don't already feel that way now, you SURELY will soon.

Please....please understand, I still love you. Please understand that I just want to be good for you, and not something ugly that you grow to hate. Help me understand what that is.

Help me understand...why am I holding this key?