Posts tagged ‘Broken promises’

September 12, 2011

It’s My Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To

by bye2mrwrong


You would cry too if it happened to you. Yes it’s my birthday and I am officially old. I know I said that last year and the year before that too. But at least back then my life seemed to be on track. I had a great job, a wonderful husband, and I was already entertaining the thought of having kids. Now it’s all just fallen to pieces. And I can’t seem to get them back into place. No amount of glue seems to be able to place those pieces where they belong and keep them together. So in the deep of the night, when I can’t fall asleep, and my thoughts haunt me, I secretly fall apart.

I HATE him. I really do. For making me vulnerable. For making me endure so much pain. For hurting me like I never knew someone could hurt. For making false promises. For feeding me lies. For wasting my time. For taking the best years of my life. For throwing them away. For making me love him, but not loving me enough.  For wanting to stay friends now that we are divorced. For asking about me and showing interest. For knowing how to manipulate me. For the greatest mind f#uck of all times. For making me feel guilty, even now. For making me feel like a victim. For taking me away from my comfort zone. For making me have to start a brand new life. For making me doubt myself. For making me so insecure. For loving her. For making me feel so unloved. For making me feel unworthy. For making me feel I wasn’t enough. For making me feel unsexy. For making me feel I will never get what I want in love, in life. For making me lose faith yet still have hope. For making me a skeptic, yet not enough to protect my heart. For making me feel I should just settle for Mr. Right now, rather than Mr. Right. For making me crave the touch of a man. For making me miss being hugged. For making me feel miserable and lonely. For the depression that attacks me especially at night. For not loving me unconditionally until death do us part. For creeping into my thoughts and somehow controlling them. For breaking me, and shattering my heart. For not being the one.

I hate him for doing this to me. Or am I doing this to myself? Maybe I hate me.

July 24, 2011

2 Steps Forward 2 Steps Back

by bye2mrwrong

About a year ago my ex-husband and I finally reached the decision that there is only one path left for us – divorce. I never really agreed completely with this path, I didn’t want it, couldn’t fathom it, but logically there was just no other way. I was constantly angry and took it out on him; he had closed up emotionally and would not talk to me at all about the breathings of his heart. Finger pointing, blaming and harsh words were the only things we were able to do at the time; and with his refusal to go to relationship therapy it left us no other choice.

At first I left the bed, then I left the house. But when circumstances led me to come back it was his turn. He left the house, and I was left empty in an apartment full of memories, full of US. At first it was hard. I sat around and moped. Felt sorry for myself. Anger and pity were two emotions perpetually in my bones. But with time something changed and with a push from my friends I started to go out, to have fun, to meet new people, I even fell in lust. It felt like I was moving forward, like I was letting go.

But skipping forward one year, I feel like I have recently taken a few steps back. Suddenly I am again very sad. My outlook on life is not a happy or chirpy one. I go through the motions. I fill up my day. I make sure that by night fall I’m so excruciatingly tired that I can think of nothing but sleep. And when it comes to love I have become skeptical, pessimistic, and cynic.

Knowing that a few months ago I was better, I can’t help but wonder what brought me back, and why I’m now stuck here. When I hear the usual clichés (e.g. things happen for a reason, or everything works out in the end), unlike before when I agreed with them, and believed them to be true, now I challenge them. I’m not sure I don’t believe them, but it feels like I’m playing devil’s advocate, pushing my friends to the corner to see if they can find a new cliché out.

On the day of my flight my ex finally apologized. An apology that at last, after all this time, felt truly authentic. An apology that came filled with tears of remorse and self-anger, filled with pain and regret. He apologized for the things he had done, for the lies he had lied, for the words he had thrown, for the pain he had caused, for the life he had ruined, for the promises he had broken, for the hopes he had shattered, for the path he had taken, and for the one he hadn’t. He apologized from the bottom of his heart.

His apology which had been long overdue, had brought me comfort, for the words he spoke were words that I had been patiently waiting for, words that I desperately needed to hear. But with that comfort came grief, remorse and regret. Could we have saved us? Should we have waited longer? Is there still a glimmer of hope? Is there a sliver of love?

It has been brought to my attention that this may be the reason I am now stuck. Why I have now spiraled backwards. Could it be that my ex purposely and cleverly chose the very last moment to deliver his final speech? Could it be that he wanted me to go feeling confused? That he wanted me to stay stuck in that moment of US, to always wonder if I had made a wrong choice? Could it be that he was so cunning and malicious?

It was me who chose for him to take me to the airport, it was I who wanted him to feel the pain of coming back home to an empty house. It was me who wanted him to realize how much he would miss me, how wrong he had been, and how colossal his mistake was. But it seems the joke’s on me and the tables have turned. Because it seems that now it’s me who can’t stop thinking of the life I left behind.