Today I agreed to let you see me and say goodbye. We met at Cafe Andreines. I chose this place because this is where you asked me to be your girl. Not gentlemanly like by any means, not with flattery, or romance with brut, bluntness – a part of your charm…at the time.
I let you sit there and apologize to me. You were clean shaven and your hair was pulled back like I always liked it. Your blue eyes stared at me as your tossed your half smile on your rugged face towards me when I entered the room in my black rain coat and $5 prada wallet Miranda bought me at Goodwill. You had a 16 oz something, and we sat on a couch, a brown couch and you spoke to me.
I don’t know what you said.
You said you were sorry.
You said you missed me.
You said you wish you could go back and start over from the first moment you asked me to be your girlfriend.
You asked me if I remembered the night *I* hurt you, and you didn’t touch me – of course I do, I was there. I crossed my OWN boundary and limit. You pushed me there and I have decided to take that control back.
At the end of your continuance and repetition of missing me, telling me I was the most important person in the world to you how much you loved me, you loved the good time we had etc etc. I eventually stopped you and told you the most important reason I can never be with you.
You lied to me.
About a woman I asked you to give up communication to, a woman you lied to me about contacting up to that very last day I saw you. Up to that day Wednesday December 30, 2009. And it is more the lying that I could never try again with you, or trust you than it is the abuse. The abuse verbally, emotionally, mentally and physically I believe I could, and can, always heal from, learn from and move forward from.
You are a liar.
And that is how I will always remember you.
And your touch…the last time you had and ever will touch me was pushing me towards the stairs to get out of your house, while I made that life changing phone call.
You threw a fit when I said I never wanted to see you again, and you got up and said goodbye and stormed off in your always dramatic way of trying to make a point and have the last word ,to which I responded as I knew I would. A roll of the eyes, standing up lifting my hood back over my head to protect myself, and heading for my car, with no regrets and no more feelings for you.
And true to form, moments after the rain began to hit my bare hands and hood, you chased after me and I ignored your voice calling my name in the rain as I imagined you running towards me. I remember walking more quickly to my car and purposefully not lifting my head to make eye contact with wherever you may have been. Once in the car you were in my line of vision with your hand pressed up against my windshield, and the rain pounded as my heart once did when seeing you. I rolled my passenger window an inch and a half and you said that I really am beautiful. I think you said it was good to see me, and then you said simply “bye.” and walked away. John was playing in my car as if during a dramatic movie moment was happening “all we ever do is say goodbye.” And if it wasn’t for me having Battle Studies in my car 24/7 playing constantly it might have meant more to me.
I put my car in reverse, turned the windshield wipers on and exited up the hill of the parking lot. The opposite direction from where you were walking. And even as the tears rolled fearlessly and continuously down my cheeks, like the undisturbed rain on the parked cars to the side of me, I didn’t miss you. I missed me.
I missed my sanity and my heart. I missed my own laughter and joy. I missed my good, healthy habits and that’s towards my mental, emotional and physical states. I missed my sense of humor and my courage to push through. I missed the support of the Trilogy and I missed my own strength. I missed feeling whole. And I missed all of that… between the Traffic St Stop Light and and Elm Street. Then I turned left and continued down Elm Street and my tears began to subside and so did the rain. But true to my form, as the rain later began to get heavy, and the day time turned into darkness I recapped my day and I too felt heavy and fell into darkness.
it’s been a hard two weeks.
It’s been a difficult past 2 months.
It’s been a demanding few months
It’s been a long year
It’s been a very tough two years
But today, today is just ending and tomorrow? Tomorrow is something new all together – and that is the part of me that I missed the most.
One minute at a time
One day at a time
One week at a time
One month at a time
One year at a time
One love at a time
One step. And tomorrow – a new path, maybe a new pair of metaphoric shoes. But the rain, the rain inside of me and on the window will come and go as expected. But rest assured, the sun will come out again.