What you deserve

Author's note: This is a personal reflection from a past relationship. Names/details changed.

It hit me suddenly as to why I can't let go of someone who deeply hurt me. Even though he said mean and terrible things to me, and about me, he also gave me moments I'd never experienced and so desperately longed for my entire life. He didn't love me but there were times he told me he did and it completely rewired my brain to keep attempting to get it back. 

My father didn't love me. Yes, we knew there were daddy issues here. He told me in many ways. Any love he felt for me was out of an obligation to being a parent, and to the God he worshiped, but he didn't love me as a person. I was told I was his least favorite child and he didn't like looking at me because I looked like my mother. I was hard for him to love and he felt a need to let me know this.

My ex husband was next. I do think he loved me briefly, when I was compliant and giving him what he wanted. That dissipated quickly. His actions were much louder than his words, and his words were rare. I wasn't never first in his life. Not even second place. I was a distant thought, an annoyance, and a paycheck. 

Then he came along and swept me off my feet. Said he loved me within days. Said I was perfect. One of my first journal entries after we met said. "I know by all standards it's too fast and I don't care. Yet there is this nagging thought that I'll care later." It was over a year of back and forth, epic fights with spectacular make ups. Though once he first discarded me it never got back to those first moments and my mind became laser focused on nothing but that. Called names, told everything was my fault, and I'm sure so much more behind my back. Yet I couldn't let go.

People like to say "you deserve so much more". Of course I do. We all do. Yet there is an implication that by being deserving you'll also get it. It's also said in a way that implies I don't believe I deserve it, and this is why it never happens. The parallels to my Evangelical upbringing "your prayers aren't being answered because you don't have enough faith" aren't lost on me. How exactly do you believe in this fairy tale magic when it's been shown over and over your entire life to never happen? I mean how could I not fall?

I love the poem by Louise Erdrich that talks about the search for love, the human condition, and that for some of us the effort is all we get. I can say this; my love was real, I did all I could, and I know none of this was my fault. Yet it's what I have to live with in this life.

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could.”

― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

Tell her

Author's note: This is a personal reflection from a past relationship. Names/details changed.

In the end I could tell you'd stopped loving me by the way you fucked me. It was painful. But we were still so hot too. I could feel how you hated me. I'm such a masochist.

We burned so bright we burned out. Remember that lyric? Probably don't.

You wanted to discard me to hurt me. I saw you were on Tinder and didn't say anything. I'd walked by and saw the flame notification come up and my heart stopped. I'd never used your code to unlock your phone, wanted to, but I never did until that morning. I saw the message. She was blonde. I wiped tears and lied when you asked what was wrong. I later learned there were settings changed that kept me in the dark. Clever.

Even so, you won. You destroyed me. You broke me. This must delight you. You must be so happy for that. Probably in love again. I never felt that you really loved me and that's at the core of it all. I fell in love with you but didn't feel you actually loved me. Must have been entertaining to watch me love you and play with my mind. I haven't told anyone how deep it goes. How deep it hurts.

Have fun with whatever latest chick you have. And you always have someone. Call her pretty lady and study her carefully so you can tell her everything she's always wanted to hear. Tell her you could see she was insecure, and when she looks upset, say it's cute. Fuck with her a little to see how much she'll take. If you don't go too far, it will only be a little fight, with a passionate makeup, and then you can go back at it again. Cut her down while complimenting her to keep her off balance and longing for that next dopamine hit. Charm her while making her nervous. Tell her she's perfect, everything is perfect, and if she doesn't believe it then she'll ruin it all. 

It must be so good to be you. Above everyone. All knowing. All it takes is a smile and hey beauty and those weak insecure ones will fall all over it. It's so cute.

I felt you pulled me back for control. It was all a game for you and I'd come back because I loved you. But I'm not a victim. I did all of this willingly. I can only blame myself. My choice to keep longing for you while nothing was ever there.

When we were amazing, we were so amazing. Or maybe it was all in my head. I would have such ridiculous fantasies, especially at the casinos, and most of all in Vegas. Though you'd make sure to tell me before all occasions that I wasn't getting a ring. I knew I wasn't getting a ring but the need to level set expectations prior was a special blow. I pictured you winning big and saying we should get married. We'd buy expensive outfits or do Elvis and the showgirl like in Honeymoon in Vegas, and it would be fun and magical. Instead, I was told I was unlucky, not to pick any machines because when I did you didn't win, and why was I acting sad? 

I felt I would have never been able to please you. I couldn't exhale. If I let my breath out I'd have to accept you didn't love me. I stayed in a state of walking the balance beam wondering when I'd fall. We'd be having a wonderful time and then an accusation would come out of nowhere. Walking on eggshells kept my nervous system in continual panic. 

It felt like you despised me so much in the end, while on Tinder, while fucking me. 

I made coffee one morning and some grounds spilled all over. I'd swept and wiped but missed some. Of course. You started wiping up more and it felt like you couldn't stand me. Yet I stayed. 

I'm not your victim. I danced in the fire though I'm always burned. 

I wonder if we'll look back on our lives and think of each other. Or if it all will fade away like it never happened. I wonder if I'll smile thinking of the perfect moments, I'd always dreamed of but never thought would come true. Or if I'll feel deep sadness and shame that I didn't respect myself enough to stand up to you. 

Maybe some of us never heal. We do the work, we try so hard, but we never make it to the other side. Perhaps the effort just takes the weight off of the injury, like a crutch for your soul. I don't have much time left in life for lessons and nonsense. I'm building my crutch so I can at least go on. 

No one understands why I keep spiraling downward the more time goes by....

I will own my truth though. Even broken, destroyed, and beaten down, I always get back up.