That spark… That tiny light… Buried deep down, it still shines bright.
The glimmer of Hope inside of me.
I want to shoot it! I want to rip it out of my body, soul, heart, and mind. It is there, somewhere deep, away from my reach. It is faint, that spark, it will ruin me.
I fear that hope.
Why would I still have such a thing, after what has happened to me? Under the right circumstance, hope is powerful. It gives us something to live for, to fight for, to believe in. But this is not that circumstance, where even a spark of hope should be left.
Yet I do find myself hoping… that this is not the end. The story of us, can’t end like this. I hope for a man who betrayed my trust, our history, his own self dignity, to come back.
Do I even want him back? If he does come back on his knees, would I smile? What would that smile look like, would it be sweet, sad, or vindictive?
Dark thoughts enter my mind, picturing his head down, hands resting on his lap. Looking down on him, would I pretend; to care, to feel relieved, to shed fake tears. Then when I look into his eyes, when I see that glimmer, that faint flicker of hope, that IS when I strike. Will I give into my rage, my hurt, my darkest thoughts, my demons. There will be nothing left of him, of our history, of our love, of me.
I would find JOY in that?
Will I forgive him? Will I accept him? Will I silently thank the universe for answering my plea? Would I cry out of happiness, would I be able to crawl back into my safe place? Will the words I Love you come out of my mouth, would his body bring me warmth?
I romanticism too much of our history. When it actually is nothing more than a toxic relationship on an endless loop. He was my first Love, my first heart break, and the one person who was my safe place. In a twisted explanation; I want to crawl into his big belly, and make myself snug inside. I want to be surrounded by this warmth. He was the only one, who saw it all. My happiest moments, my dark past, my misery, the chaos that seduced me. He was there, he saw it all and he did not run away.
He would ask me, why I loved him. My answer was always, because you love me. That may sound selfish, or self centered, but it is far it.
Rock, accepting, best friend, listener, savage, complex, balance, little things. That is how he loved me.
How I KILL that tiny hope? I remind myself of his words…
“I was never fully in it”
“I don’t think I’ve been ever in love”
Not once, in our 15 yrs of history? We both must be crazy. Continuously merging ourselves to each other, until it starts becoming real. I tried this time, I promise I really did. I stayed put instead of fleeing and hiding from you. I’ve learned to compromise with for us. Sometimes I was selfish, all I wanted was just you to all myself.