It is of utmost importance that you know that I do this to hurt no one. Please consider that as I continue. As I sit, writing to you from my bed after too few hours of restless sleep, I have but two feelings. The first is the ringing in my head, doubtlessly from the lack of sleep mixed with the torrent of thoughts and feelings that flash across my brain at a second's notice. It's to be expected. This always happens. Sometimes even when life hasn't come to worst possible outcomes. My head is never quiet.
The second feeling is the wrenching of my insides. I can only imagine some cosmic voodoo doctor twisting back and forth the doll linked to me. I can't imagine I won't know the truest definition of "ulcer" after this is all behind me.
I don't think that will be anytime soon.
It happened on a good night. I took her to dinner. Bought her flowers. Watched TV and cuddled. I was good and that's the worst part about it. Good always loses. I knew that in high school. I just forget it sometimes. Sometimes I let myself believe the world isn't this spinning ball of evil that it really is. We all cling to a delusion or two, if only for a few minutes at a time.
I asked her, even before our date night began, if the night was going to end poorly. If I was going to take her out to dinner and buy her things and she'd end us after my wallet was a little emptier. You can't blame me. When a doctor sees the symptoms, he asks the right questions to get to the right prescription.
I thought this night out was ours.
You can call me cynical for asking what was headed my way. I'm sure I was. I'd heard Ben Folds' "Song for the Dumped" one too many times - "I wish I hadn't bought you dinner right before you dumped me on your front porch." You can call me cynical.
You just can't call me wrong.
I didn't do everything right, you know. I claim I never meant to hurt her, but I did sometimes. I didn't think there was any other way to show how I was feeling than to lash out and make someone else feel it too. It's a horribly selfish way to act. I'm a horribly selfish person.
It's why an "other" to care for was so important. I hope she didn't feel like the guinea pig I sometimes worried she was.
It's all of little consequence now. I don't know what will become of me. When you only have so many ties to the world, to the belief that humans can actually love without fear and disaster, and one of them is instantly and painfully severed, you can't imagine how the wound will ever be cauterized enough for that type of connection again.
You probably don't even want that kind of connection again.
The world of social media isn't helping matters any either. This, for example, is the grace Facebook offers you at the end of something important.
Not "This will remove any mention of your relationship from your Facebook profile." No, I'd be canceling my whole relationship.
When really, it was canceled for me.