Monday, January 26, 2009

Tell Me On A Sunday...Please.

Hey Sis,

Steven and I broke up last night. He thought we were reaching a turning point in our relationship where it was going to get really serious, and he decided he just couldn't see himself with me in the long term. He thought he would break it off now before I got too attached and wasted more of my time. I'm hurt, Manda, among the confusion and sadness, I'm hurt.

I know I have to accept it and move on. There's no use in loving someone who doesn't have a heart for me. I respect his feelings, but I'm having a hard time reconciling this with some of the things he's said to me, done for me, the things we said to each other. Even one week ago today we seemed unbreakable.

I'm not fooling myself - this wasn't a one-sided relationship with me carrying the weight. I know enough from that. We were balanced and loving. There were no games; this was too easy and comfortable to be true. We were passionate in a way that wasn't simply fueled by lust. I wanted to give myself to him, and I guess I'm happy I didn't. I thought I found someone who loved me for me. Is there anyway to retrieve my many calls of happiness from the rooftops?

I can't eat. I can't sleep without seeing his face next to mine, his head on my stomach, his conspirator's smile as our foreheads touch. Where do I put these feelings and memories so that I never have to see them again? How do I rebuild? How do I trust my feelings and my stories to someone again when I always end up abandoned?

I haven't been working on me. I need to do that again. I need to write again. I won't let this shelter me from the everyday things that make me happy. One thing - I cannot look for love right now. I feel too delicate to hold, and I fear that the next person will just be a repository for resentment and my continued bitterness. I'll probably be the same for him...lord knows I'm not good enough for the long term.

I deserve the best, and I thought I had it. If I can't bring myself to search again, I might as well redefine "best."

So there's that,

Laura

Don't run off in the pouring rain,
Don't call me as they call your plane,
Take the hurt out of all the pain.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love you, Laura.

Anissa said...

That was me that said I love you.