We had it coming, it already lasted longer than the gods intended with us. No more ‘us’, it’s just me and her now. I don’t know what state she’s in and although I am very worried about her, that’s a good thing. It would only make me more miserable, which in turn makes it harder for her and there you have your vicious circle.
I bet she doesn’t even understand why I broke up. We were always kind of disconnected on the reasoning behind emotions. It’s not because some other guy came along, I know all too well that can happen. Not even because she lied to me about it, because that was what I asked of her.
She dragged me through the mud for a month. Four weeks of distance, wondering, fear and goddamn sexual frustration. I wanted to call her up every single night but I was afraid of who might answer. She hadn’t even told me at that point, I just had… a feeling, that turned out to be right. And still she said nothing, when I asked what was wrong. I could sense she was troubled, I even offered her to live in with me, going against principles I’ve held for most of my life. Instead, she ran into someone else’s arms.
I had to drag it out of her, telling her I wasn’t blind. I had to hear that she had intended to keep it secret until after VKSJ camp, where we would both be cooks. It’s a 10 day camp. 10 continuous days of this fucking agony so that she wouldn’t be short one cook. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
She told me in the morning. No, I told her, and she just nodded. The last thing she said before I slammed the door was "So I have feelings for two people. Is that so wrong?"
At this point she seemed to assume that she was the only one who ever gets in that situation. The opposite is true, the only unique feature that she showed, was that she had given in. Every time I get jealous of some guy she tells me, "He’s not my type" and I always wondered if that was all it took. To be her type. It now seems I was right.
If she thinks she’s the only one with dilemma’s regarding her relationship, she’s fucking wrong. If she thinks the girl two nights before didn’t tempt me, that it wasn’t confusing when she leaned over me, dumping her god damned scent over me, she is sorely mistaken. Still I chose for my broken relationship, my girlfriend, distant and frigid. It’s painful to see that I was the only one in the couple with this attitude.
She was going to confess. Tell me all about it honestly. That night she would come over to explain, "because she has a right to." As far as I know, it doesn’t quite work that way. The only "right" involved here is mine, the right to an explanation that I didn’t even want to fucking hear. And yet, before that night came, it came out that she was only planning to feed me more lies and half-truths. Apparently she thought that she could use my computer to fucking flirt with that bastard without me noticing, or that she could tell her friend that she intended to keep more secrets from me that very night she would put it all on the table. This woman can’t even shut down a computer properly without putting it on stand-by, making it all too obvious that she had been on it. A day later I found both logs in the trash bin. I was impressed with her locating them, for a little moment before I put them back where they belong. Truth can’t be denied, the past can’t be undone.
That night I told her we were over. It took her until next morning to take my words seriously. What happened next wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. I’m only human, and she hadn’t touched me in over a month. What to me was a bittersweet goodbye, was make-up sex to her. It was only when I told her afterwards not to come back, that she finally realized.
I can’t trust her, anymore. This little reggae-loving cock sucker works with her. Am I supposed to go mad every time she goes to work? What am I supposed to think when she tells me that she loves me, which was her standard answer every excruciating time I asked her what was wrong? But as I stood there, coughing up those words with a strength I never thought I had, it were her tears that really broke my heart.
Almost a week later now, and I feel… small. Crusted. There is a little core in me that is still moving forward, pulling my miserable flesh with it. One foot after the next, stumbling along. I want to go back to bed, shut the blinds and sleep forever, but there is still that something inside me that makes me nod my head when I am offered an excuse to leave the house. No, of course I don’t want to, you fuck. But yes, I’ll be there.
My girl. We grew up together, shaped each other. We would grow old together. And I scared her off, she let herself be scared off. But whatever she says,
What she did to me, I would have never done to her.
Goodbye, soul mate. He better treat you right.