"Someone" wrote me a really nasty comment today. I'm conflicted about whether or not I should address it. I have been blogging for a very long time at this point and I have experienced every type of comment a person can experience (I used to blog about politics). People often think they know you because they see an intimate side of you through this sort of platform, but they forget that a lot is hidden as well. I get to craft the image I share with you. This has never been denied, but it is often forgotten.
I don't pretend that what I am sharing with you is the "truth." It's not. I don't have access to any objective truth that is THE REAL AND ONE TRUTH any more than anyone else. I only know what I experience. What I remember. What I feel. My version of reality is colored by my assumptions, hopes, fears, and everything else. Just like you. Just like all of us.
That's why books like A Game of Thrones are so interesting. We get to see how everyone is a little right and a little wrong about each situation. "Good" and "bad" are more complicated than we like to think. Sometimes we try our hardest to do the right thing and we still hurt people or let them down. It's just the nature of living.
Anyways, I wrote this long post about it because it was obviously from someone involved somehow in the situation, but as I'm reading those words I just feel...tired.
I don't want to do this anymore.
Yes, deep down I do think he manipulated me. I think he wasn't ready to let go so he said what he needed to say to keep me around. But maybe he was scared. Maybe he was unsure. Maybe he really really really wanted it to work. Part of me doesn't want to accept that. I think if he wanted it to work it would have. He let fear grip his heart and doubt poison his thoughts. But you know what, I let insecurity poison mine.
He's not a monster.
I'm not a saint.
He is just a man who doesn't love me. I am not the first woman to fall in love with the wrong person. We're not the first people to fall in love at the wrong time. It just is. Yes it hurts. It hurts more than anything has ever hurt, but that doesn't mean I should choose pettiness and drag him through the mud to make myself feel better.
Because I don't feel better.
I still love someone who loves someone else. None of my words or righteous indignation have changed that. I'm still alone, sitting in my room with a hole in my heart crying into my keyboard. I think sometimes if I ruin every good memory that I will feel okay. That it will be easier to move on. But there are memories I don't want to ruin.
The memory of him crying and telling me he never felt like someone cared enough about him to fight for him is precious to me. No matter how it's been twisted and discarded for him, for me it is the epitome of the quality of my love. That I could make him feel safe and wanted and loved. That he knew, if only for a single moment, how special and important he was to me. I don't want to give that up.
I remember the time I made him soup. It was such a small thing but I remember him wanting to take a picture because he was full of pride and love. He wanted people to know that there was this woman, this strange and exciting woman, who cared for him and loved him too.
I remember our children playing together and Holden trying to read to Freya. Jasper asking is he was friends with them now or if the robot I bought him for Christmas was a "girl robot." (It was actually.)
I remember the time we made those planetariums. I got way too inebriated and he had to help me because I couldn't even line the stickers up. All I could do was giggle and watch tv as he so perfectly folded every part. We were like kids and I'm not sure I can ever use it again without thinking of him. Or the last time we touched.
There are so many memories.
And they're beautiful. If that's all I have left then I don't want to taint them. I don't want to use what's left of our affections to just keep hurting each other over and over again. It just makes what I lost that much worse.
I don't want to dig a hole so deep that we can never climb out of it. That all we have left are the scars we've inflicted on one another.
Maybe it's already too late for that. Maybe I will never forgive him and he will never forgive me. It's my nature to hope though. Or as he would say, I'm cautiously optimistic in life. I don't want my love to be something ugly and cruel, even if it sometimes feels deserved. That is when I want to be the most forgiving. What is it I am even hoping for? For him to feel the way I do? I would never want to do that to someone. Ever.
So I'm done.
If you're reading this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted. I'm sorry we couldn't find a way to make it work. I'm sorry for the cruel words. I'm sorry you couldn't trust in me or in us. I'm sorry for it all. I hope you find a little peace today.
We could all use a little peace.