B moved out half an hour ago. I kicked him out. It’s not a scandalous scene that you’re expecting. But it was bloody heartbreaking. I was the one who got hurt, who got inconvenienced for more half a year, and now I chose to do the most sensible and empowering thing to do, but why am I shedding more tears right at this moment? Even more than the minute I found out about his marriage.
We were having a good time yesterday with the photo club’s outdoor activity. B and I were displaying affection so publicly and we looked like we were full of love. We are. Later in the night one of my friends asked me, whom I think knows about the marriage because of this blog, if we’re ok and if I’m happy with him. I wondered why he had to ask me. Wasn’t it obvious that I am? Or am I fooling myself once again?
Let’s put it this way, I have to admit that it kills me every night. I still couldn’t understand why he lied to me. I couldn’t trust him that much. I get nasty because I always bring that up. I hate being nasty. Being nasty means being unloving, and I couldn’t help it. I started looking at him less. I know I forever got this wildcard which I can use against him. I can now dictate whatever I want without working for it. I can be a pain in the ass, but I can still expect to be adored because I am the losing end afterall.
But even with all these shemexes, I have to say that I love him. I have to admit that it occurred to me sometimes that what I feel for him could be anything but love. I thought it was just pity that he’s got nowhere to go before, or fear that he’ll do something bad to himself. But from what happened a while ago, I have to say it really is love. I couldn’t even look at the door. I couldn’t even say goodbye. I was the one deciding all of these, but why does it pain like hell?
I can give you a million other things that I don’t like about him. I’ve been so good at finding flaws. Give me one subject and I can give you ten con’s with every pro. But even if I go on all night saying silly negative thing about him, I must say that I love every inch of him. Just remembering how hugging him so tight gives me that security that I’ve been longing to feel, or how genuinely pretty I feel when he looks me in the eyes and say that I’m really beautiful. Don’t forget how he couldn’t sleep without me by his side. Or how he asks about my day. Or how he tells me he misses me. All those crap that cynical people won’t believe. They did work for me.
But I needed to do this. This is the last thing that I could do to give that self-respect that I think I am starting to lose in exchange of loving blindly. I may see him tomorrow or the day after that. We can act like nothing’s changed when we talk on the phone. We can end up together, or not. I just want that when I grow old and when I look back about this moment in my life, I know I was able to not settle yet for something less. This is not even about decency. I call it giving myself time to think. To assess, to recharge. And get on with the battle again.
It just happened that it hurts so bad now.
** We haven't broken up yet. Just giving each other some space.
1 comment:
so, how are you?
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