It felt good to yell at you for once. It felt good to say my piece and not bite my tongue and watch it bleed. It felt good to unload all the damage and all the baggage in my mind. I watched months and weeks pass by while I decided I’d carry on being the nice one, being the understanding one. I thought maybe things will change for the better if I just smiled one more time. One last time. I guess smiling doesn’t always cut it though!
It took all my strength and I clenched all the bones in my body as I gathered the courage to spill the beans. I wasn’t ready yet. I wasn’t ever going to be ready, you see? I had to say it there and there, before the opportunity passed me by… again.
It didn’t come out the way I wanted, to be honest. I’m a lot more eloquent in my mind and on paper, but for some reason when I come face to face with hard truths and you, I trip on my own words and injure myself even further. This time I let it out, as much as I could, I said those words, as heavy as they were, as brutally honest as they probably felt.
They were brutal probably, brutally honest and the me of yesterday would have probably never said them out loud like that. I guess, I stopped caring about what you’d think. I stopped caring about hurting your feelings although you were clearly hurting mine. I was done trying to look like the ‘nice person’. Shouldn’t ‘nice people’ stand up for themselves?
This is what you get when things are bottled up, when things are left to rut and go sour for too long. This is what you get when you decide to fix it later or keep everyone in the room happy. Is everyone happy though? What about me, while I eat up the words roaming through my mind to keep you happy? This is what you get: words spat out like diarrhea which can’t be taken back.
Would I take it back? I strongly doubt I would. I’m not going to lie and say I could have definitely rephrased everything a lot better than I did because, the truth is, although I try to seem like I don’t care, I still care about your feelings. It’s not necessarily your fault that I keep all my feelings pent-up inside a locked vault until it literally explodes without giving any warning. You had no warning. You didn’t see it coming; you didn’t know my constant smile and ‘yes’ persona would turn against you at that moment. To be fair, I didn’t know that either.
Now it’s out though, you’ve heard it and there’s no taking it back. I’m glad it’s out. I’m glad I vomited all of those words unto you even though I could have done it with a little less outrage or emotion. I feel free now, unburdened, light. I’ve set all the anger free and maybe that will help me see clearly again. It wasn’t easy, it took a lot out of me… literally, and now I’m sure this will impact our tomorrow for the rest of our lives, but what had to be said had to be said.
You didn’t take it very well. In fact, I don’t think you took it well at all. You stormed out in flames reminding me why I always stay away from confrontation and never get in other people’s way. Then you walked back in, enraged, spitting words at me and as a result I almost wished I could take it all back. For a second, I wished I smiled one more time without uttering a single word like I had done each time before. For a second, I wished I could go back to being the girl you had in your mind: the girl that always let you have your way, the girl that let you win… constantly.
I’m glad I didn’t. I have wondered whether that could have been the wrong thing to do, a rash mistake, but I’ve decided that if it was, then it’s one I’d gladly make.
I finally feel like the me I want to be; the one who doesn’t keep it all in a vault, the one who holds people accountable for the way they make her feel, the one who holds herself accountable for the way she feels.
It might have been harsh or rash, or a huge mistake I’ll have to come face to face with tomorrow, but for today I’m unburdened. I may not be unbothered, but the weight has been lifted off my shoulders and that’s enough for now.