2 Divorces Don't Make a Right
by Ashdacat
I blocked his number today.
Fuck- that was hard for me.
He never harmed me in anyway.
I just can’t do this anymore.
The back and forth.
The random and in between text messages.
We are both divorced. Both hurt. Both struggling. But you’re still stuck in the past.
You tell me you’re here and I run down the stairwell so excited. I have to stand on my tippy toes to hug you.
We get in the elevator. I touch your chest and tell you that your shirt looks nice. You put your arms around me and hold me. It’s been a long time.
We sit on the couch. Here I am. Naked. I’m vulnerable. No makeup. Acne. No bra. Pajamas. You pull me on your lap and kiss me.
You changed your earrings?
He asks.
I’m shocked you remember small details.
I say.
You’re special to me.
He pulls me in close into his neck and I begin to cry. That’s all I do now. He can’t sleep at night either and he knows I’m broken. He doesn't try anything because he knows I’m fucked up.
You know I’m not ready.
You massage my head and watch Netflix. I look at your eyes and you're zoned out. Maybe you live in an alternate universe in your head as well. Maybe that’s why I can’t let you go. You’re broken like me and it’s so fucking beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful.
But today.
I blocked your number.
I need to heal and I’m sorry it can’t be with you.