The Truth Is That We Never Loved Each Other

I never loved you. You never loved me. It took me time to catch up, but I got there. And now this daydreamed slow dance has bowed into an independent ballet. A lot of the time people see only what it is they want to believe. We hope that we can trust our instincts enough to lead us down a path of certainty. What we fail to admit is that we make errors, itโ€™s difficult to accept that we can be wrong.

I mistook this for love because I was vulnerable and thatโ€™s what I needed. I needed love. I am sorry if my intensity made you nervous. I truly believed you cared for me and that felt comfortable; it felt exciting. It felt deserved, and most of all, it felt familiar. Which is why I pursued you.

Many memories of you hit like a ton of bricks. I never got my closure. I wish the memories I replay consistently delivered me happiness or gratitude. In a way, you saved my life. The memories always land gracefully, and for a split second I am calmโ€”it feels safe, it feels honest. Those feelings can evaporate quickly as I am overcome with confusion, mild regret, and embarrassment. I am embarrassed for letting my guard down and leveling with you. For boldly asking you for clarification about what was going on with us. I am ashamed because you made me out to be the one in the wrong. You made me appear crazy. You hold responsibility too. Whether you acknowledge that or not is on your conscience.

Letting go of the idea of you feels like a band aid being ripped off a healed wound. I am no longer as attached. Like most scars that originate from an accident, I needed time to heal properly so that the wound would no longer sting. The mark that is left can resemble whatever it is I choose to feel. Some days the mark can be a slow dance, other days a ballet, maybe even a tango too. The plan is with time, even though there will always be a scar, it will no longer hurt and there will be no mystery left or desire to reopen it.

There are three versions to every story. There is my truth, there is your truth, and somewhere in between those, there is what actually happened. There will be times when we get our closure and there will be times when all is left misunderstood. This is wisdom. This is the journey. This is life. TC mark

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