These are life skills. We learn them in kindergarten. We don’t hit, we are kind, and we share. We are told to control our emotions then and are expected to at the age of 5. Yet, as an adult we make excuses for our behavior. Instead of checking it at the door we lash out at each other and consider it normal behavior because our coffee got cold or a-hole on the freeway cut us off. No matter what though, we are taught to treat people how we want to be treated. I wasn’t doing that. I wasn’t even close.
My excuse was heartbreak. My friends empathized with me. The list ranged from you being delusional to cruel. But you weren’t delusional and you weren’t cruel. You weren’t anything. That’s the problem. I didn’t give you the feelings that you were looking for. It’s not your fault but I blamed you anyway.
I wasn’t nice about it either. I didn’t handle it like a 29 year old should have. I didn’t know how to. But that doesn’t mean I needed to act like I did. I was like a revolving door with you. Once you thought it was safe to come in I would send you back out. I said things I meant, at least at the time, that I should have kept under lock and key. Doing and saying these things didn’t make you look worse and it didn’t make me look any better.
I had trouble removing you from me. Removing the ideas and memories. I was this paper doll that you easily disposed of and replaced. But those are my feelings. Not yours. I should have respected that the feelings I felt for you weren’t mutual. Instead I coat checked my dignity and became the monster I was convinced you were.
I was not the gracious ex I wanted to be. I was the one you avoided at the grocery store. I allowed our situation to end in a way that I am ashamed to admit. I’ve earned the negative comments that you may have said. The negative attitude you have given.
I’d like to repair what I have broken. Like a shattered mirror, I will see myself it its essence but it will not be as pristine as it once was. Now when I look at you that will be the reflection I’ve replaced. If I’m lucky enough to ever get the chance to look at you again.