Pain has the unbelievable ability to make grown adults regress to the behavior of a 5 year old.
Whether its a reaction to a stubbed toe, or the instinctive response to want to instantly vomit when you see your ex with another woman.
Imagine what it would be like if we reacted, emotionally, in the same way we did as children. Crying when we mean it, SOBBING when we mean it, throwing a tantrum in public over a bad haircut, belly laughing without reservations, FEELING without reservations?
Well, LOVE- tends to bring those feelings that have been repressed and controlled, back to the surface.
So, when someone you loved- in all of your sloppy, shameless glory, plasters Myspace photos of his new girlfriend (whom he broke up with to be with you AGAIN, since you had dated for years, to then beg you to move in with him, to then dump you by never returning your phone call- in order to return to a woman he "didn't care about, at all" he still "thought about you.")
it makes me feel like doing a few things:
Scream at shit.
Write hate mail about shit.
Set shit to flames.
Join a convent and love the big invisible Man, to avoid physical men's douche-ness.
And no, I am not above taking low blows. She's uninteresting and has a stupid name. Though, this isn't about her.
And HE- is a bad person.
I am so amazed at how someone can act as though they loved you, so convincingly, using carefully picked words to adorn you, creating a look in their eyes that is so disarming, and then in a moment, an action, or a lack thereof, all of the time and feelings, are thrown in the dirt and spit on. It's almost sociopathic.
I am a true believer relationships should never end negatively- unless he cheated on you or vice versa, you deserve a smack down WWE style if this is the case.
When someone decides to handle your heart and history so carelessly, it makes you wonder why you wasted so much time. It makes you wary of peoples understanding of words and their value. It twists your trust, and leaves a deep mark of cynicism with an undertone of doubt.
I'm in the angry phase. Angry that I'm even angry. Angry that I want to say, "Fuck you" to his face, instead of taking the high road, the less wounded road that moves on and moves forward. Because even though he's on another road, he's still smack dab in the center of mine, and he's a fucking heavy roadblock.
The only thing that would make the detour easy and unburdensome, would be if I had someone to come along with me; someone that would walk next to me, not behind me and someone who wouldn't mind, if sometimes, I was a litte bit ahead. He would jog to catch up so my journey wouldn't be lonely- he wouldn't tell me to slow down, or ask to rest his feet. My finish line would be as important to him as his is to me. We would be equal in all of our differences and aspiration. We wouldn't be threatened or disapproving, we wouldn't hesitate or take away from each other to feed our own selfish desires.
When that person can walk along with me, I'll be able to go onward, with a bit more ease.
Then, when we got where we were going, he would high five me and say, "Fuck yea baby, let's do it again."