I want to make this blog post a poem if you readers do not mind. For me, poems are feelings spilt onto paper and rearranged until they make some type of sense. Instead of proving and arguing a point, you express what is inside you, and hope your readers find something in what you share, to connect to.
So here I go.
You were supposed to LOVE me,
not hurt me or beat me, or break my heart into pieces so small it feels like I will never be whole again.
You were supposed to CHERISH me,
and show me all the love I’d been missing out on, while I hid in my bed dreaming, wishing and waiting for you.
You were supposed to PROTECT me, from all of the hurt past and present that others had inflicted on me, and all the ills and pains the world would try to impress upon me.
You were supposed to BE: my umbrella, my shelter, my home, all I would and should ever need, my MAN.
Instead, I find that this all-conquering love has been nothing but a fevered dream, something I conjured up in my lovesick heart and convinced my waking mind I was living.
Instead of seeing the truth, in your lies, your selfishness, and your deceit, I stubbornly focused on a version of us where everything you did could only be viewed as love.
Puppy love, uncertain love, fragile love, passionate love, nurturing love, and finally, what it had actually been since the beginning, one-sided love.
What I mistook as your affection for me, was just pride of ownership.
What I thought was a problem with anger, and a need for extra-care and understanding was just one of many signs of your extreme narcissism and general disregard for me.
As I flew through the air during your last show of passionate love towards me and bruised every bone in my body from neck to ankles, I plummeted back to reality.
Horrified, I finally acknowledged the veracity of what had always been right in front of me.
In an instant I ceased to swallow the fabrications you would constantly feed me, after each instance of misconduct.
It seems that this physical display of your love was enough to jar my mind back to reality and put my emotions on standby.
I did not believe you this time when you told me you were sorry and said it would never happen again.
And I inwardly flinched as I heard you once again tell me that you loved me.
Instead, I watched your shock, and disbelief, as the police knocked on the door shortly after, asking for you.
I listened to you call me a liar, curse at me, and call me all kinds of names while they continued to take you away.
I shook, and cried, and refused to rescind my call for you to go, and for them to help me get away from you.
I watched as it dawned on you that I finally recognized you for who you were, and not what you pretended to be.
As I took the officers’ cards and was informed by them of what came next, I thanked God for giving me the strength to cease protecting you.
Alone, I broke down and admitted to myself that my tower of love had been a pipe dream.
My knight, my saviour, was nothing but a man after all, and not a particularly good one.
Our life and relationship had never been anything but a mirage.
One he described, and that I allowed myself to believe in without any physical proof.
Outside of, the words that would flow out of him, after causing me pain.
Alone, bruised, and curled up on the floor I realized something important, a fact I should have known all along.
I was supposed to LOVE me.
And from then on, I would ABSOLUTELY leave the saving of my own life, to myself.