To Be Done

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It took everything I had to walk away. And I am punishing myself for doing the right thing. I walked away. I made that decision. It was the right decision. I should have made it months ago. But I wasn’t strong enough then. And apparently I’m not strong enough now. I had a fleeting moment of bravery when I said goodbye. And now I have to live with my regrets. I have to live with the memory of him walking out the door. He has to live with the memory of me packing my bags. The sad faces. Heads in hands. No tears. Angry voices. Bad feelings. That was not supposed to be our legacy. But once again it is. 

I don’t know how well he remembers the Bahamas. But he was cruel to me there. He shut me out. Sent me away. And there too I was alone in a hotel room sobbing on a bed after he broke me. How many times do you let someone break you before you realize that you deserve better? That you don’t need people in your life like that. Who break you. You ask how it’s possible to love and hate at the same time. It is. If this were someone else’s story I would think them weak. I would tell them to suck it up and get it together and move on. I tell that to myself too, but it’s always easier to fix someone else’s mess. My own mess is much harder to reconcile. And what a beautiful mess it is.
In my head. In my body. In my heart. He’s gone. And he should be. And I have to forgive myself. And I have to forgive him. And I think once I do that I can move on. I can find some peace. But right now I am still beating myself up. I don’t know when I will be able to stop. Sooner would be better. And why not? I should be able to find happy on my own terms. Stop dwelling. Stop wishing. Stop imagining. Stop caring. It’s not so easy. There has to be a happy medium. Like caring less? I suppose. Indifference. That’s the goal. To face my memories with indifference rather than pain. And then of course to not face them at all. When they are finished and of no concern to me any longer. What a lovely thought. To be done.



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