[x]Purge.Relevant - "Same Mistake" by James Blunt (All the lost souls)
I'm not calling for a second chance,
I'm screaming at the top of my voice
Give me reason, but don't give me choice
Cause I'll just make, the same mistake, again
I need to write this, to spell it all out. I need to see it in front of me for it all to make sense. Writing has always been how I cope, because I have nothing else. I always give you 100% when I commit something here. I don't know how to do it halfway.
This past week or so I have been ravaged (and I use that term lightly) by the Flu. My lungs feel like they are lined with lead from all of the coughing. I am having trouble talking on the phone, even though it's my job. The worst has past, I believe, but I still have a few days of working this out of my system.
Lately, I have been feeling really isolated. Obviously I don't want to expose my friends down here to what I have (even though I probably got it from them) but there is just something more. After this whole mess with Jessica I really turned myself inward to figure out who I am anymore. There are people around, but yet internally I feel as though I am walking through some barren, dystopian reality. This reverse eden. I've been struggling, and even more so wanting to know why.
I love her. I love her still, and to be honest I don't think I have stopped loving her since we met. The other day I was shaving and I noticed the small scar I still have under my lip, where years ago I cut myself while not paying attention at work. I was so smitten after one of our early dates and how perfect it was, I couldn't even concentrate. I could still feel that kiss on my cheek, I swear.
It's so hard to love someone, and to be so utterly defeated that you can't even summon up the courage to say goodbye. The last time she called, I saw "beep" on my caller ID (that's her, inside joke) and just stared at it until it went to voicemail. I didn't even listen to it until later, because I knew that was going to be it. Like I could somehow delay the inevitable.
She's moving on. She has a date. She wishes me the best. etc. etc. etc. I always say that if you don't leave the knife in, they can't twist it. Easier said than done, because I can feel the hole in me as I live and breathe. She has hurt me, gravely and utterly.
I don't think she ever knew, but I loved her so fiercely that I bore every single wound she gave me without even flinching. I can never express the faith of being so sure, because you or she would never understand.
It's an odd thing for me, for my logic to tell me that she is the one who quit on me, and my heart telling me that I was the one who disappointed her. Logic dictates that it is necessary that I am here. My heart tells me it was stupid to leave when I had someone finally who I could have spent the rest of my life with. Love is nothing but open wounds that you bear for each other.
Looking at my phone when she called the last time, I felt the same detachment that I felt the first time we broke up years ago. I remember I was sitting on Joe's couch on Sunday when she called, and me saying "If that's what you want" in response. The same detachment when she broke up with me months ago. The same detachment when we got into a fight on the cruise.
It was the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows, yet I take solace in the face that somehow I maintained consistency in my feelings for her. Maybe she never knew. I realized on the cruise that we operate on a completely different set of emotional spectrum.
The thing is, I never had the heart to fight with her. Call me a coward for that, but I just loved her so much that I couldn't bring myself to even fathom hurting her. Now I have realized that I never did. All I did was love her, and she was the one who let that hurt. It killed me to disappoint her, which by final verdict is probably what I did by moving.
It's all moot now, and will be after this. She just never saw me sit around at work or wherever and just feel good inside. The many times I could catch myself smiling, literally feeling it on my face. Just feeling happy for once that there was someone out there that loved me. Content. I don't think I could ever express, even with my vocabulary, how absolutely huge that was for me. I actually let someone else in.
The difference, I now realize, is that she was never content in our relationship, and she put a lot of that on me. The thing is, how I felt about her has never even so much as wavered. I guess this is something she never saw in me. Which is a shame.
In one of the last conversations we will ever have, she asked me to move home. She told me that it may or may not work if I did. I told her no. I had offered previously to move home if that would have saved us, because we were both having a hard time being so far apart. I meant it too, at the time. However her "sell" of the whole thing just broke me, right then and there.
This last time, when she asked me... this was when I finally surrendered. I had realized that she had taken everything that that I had to give and beaten it out of me. You can only break a heart so many times before there are too many pieces to glue it back together. I suffer detachment as a defense mechanism.
It's hard to walk around, so defeated. To know you gave it all you had, and have it not be good enough. Knowing you love someone and not being able to be with them any longer. It has happened before to me, yet never in a situation where I have forced myself to withdraw. People break up, but this was like self-imposed exile.
I've run out of answers, and the fight in me is gone. I don't even know where we could go from here, even if we were in the same place. I wanted the world for her and I, yet I find now I have nothing left to give.
Necessity is the mother of invention. You cannot be reborn until you die. You cannot rally unless you are being defeated. This is who I am now.
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