The Last Time

You came here when I was sick. 

We made love, I kissed your neck, pushed my naked body against yours. Ran my fingers through your hair, ran my hands up and down your back. Grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was the last happy memory I’d share with you.

You showed up here the very next day drunk and coked out. Instant accusations and yelling. Humiliation, more lies. More pain. I tried controlling you the way you always told me to. By grabbing your face in the same way I did the night before, pleading with you to be quiet. You didn’t stop. Despite everything that you’ve done, more old emails and anger. You got on top of me and started mocking me, getting in my face, being mean. You wouldn’t get off. I pushed you, kicked you, you kept on. 

You woke up the next morning not knowing anything. Old information still in your phone of women you lied to me with. You always lie. I was so scared of you. Slamming chairs, coming in through windows, more yelling, slamming doors, humiliating me again and again. Calling me a whore.

The last memory I will have of you will be this. Sitting on a curb blaming me like you always do. I thought I could trust you. You’ve only gotten worse. You don’t know how to love or be in love. How to properly respect someone, surrender and cherish them. Gratitude and gentleness don’t exist within you, only force and control. You hurt me and you don’t understand. You could’ve killed me. I felt like a prisoner in my own home. Loss of control and anxiety I hadn’t felt in two months overwhelmed me. I was so afraid. So disheartened.

I hope you remember me well. That your memories of me are understood and as you grow older, maybe even after you have a daughter, you’ll look back on us and see what you’ve done. What it would feel like to be so in love and so betrayed and so taken over. You never saw me. You have no idea who I am or what you’ve lost in losing me. You have no idea. 

I expect that all of this will continue to make me stronger and more fearless than I’ve ever been. You’ve shown me what it’s like to protect myself and seek dignity. In showing me what I don’t deserve, I now see what I do. Your life with me would’ve been sweet if only you would’ve allowed it to be. 

We now begin our journeys without each other. Lives that such a sort time ago we pictured ending together of old age and children. Everything is so uncertain now, but one thing is not: I will never be taken for granted or hurt again. The only time hands and voices will encounter me will be when they are respectful and sweet and full of love. Never again will I be afraid of someone I love or see them the way I do you now.

4 thoughts on “The Last Time”

  1. Caught in a circle people too often try to fix and work on things when they feel like you are growing distant then when you start showing interest they start the same old shit. Life is fucked up sometimes and it can be a pain the ass

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