I told myself I wanted all of her
But I never wanted her blame shifting
Her gaslighting
Her traumatic bonding
Her disorientation
Her playing the victim
Her cruelty
To happen
And it would be easier to cope with
If it actually hadn't.

It would've been easier
If I'd been the crazy one
Because then I might've had the power to fix it
If again I could go back to the time
When I clung to her lap
And she ran her fingers through my hair
And said, "Your head's really ****** up, isn't it?"

If I could go back to my "data acquisition"
And be okay when she refused to give me answers
When she refused to tell me what we were
Or if I meant a thing to her
So I couldn't hold her to expectations
Or have them
Because I meant nothing to her
But she couldn't tell me that until I tried to end it
She just let me say "I love you," and didn't say it back
(Except for the few times she slipped just to keep me trapped).

She told me that it was all in my head
And then that I wasn't imagining anything
In the same paragraph.
She told me she was "over this"
But wouldn't tell me what "this" was
When I was the one crushed under it.
She let me chase that conversation
And played with me
And told me, "You're just going to have to be confused then.
This is my straight forward response.
The truth is, I'm sorry but you will have to deal with it."
But I didn't want to deal with it.
I just had to.
And all I wanted was the truth
But I still don't have it
And I don't know how it can stare her in the face
And she can still deny it

I don't get how she can torture me for months
And not have the decency to say, "Yeah, I did it,"
So I can rest.
I don't get why I still need her validation
Why I still tried so desperately to get it
Why the army behind me isn't enough

But it has to have something to do with her saying,
"I am not your ex. I am nothing like your ex.
You need to be able to collect the data in front of you and dissociate from past trauma.
Seriously,"
Every time I tried to defend myself from her actions
Until I stopped trying because I was too busy trying to analyze my own
Or, "You tell me all your thoughts,
I go through them with you
Confirming. Or. Denying."
Like she was the omniscient authority
The objective standard by which the validity of my feelings and perceptions were measured.

I think it's because
It'd be easier to cope with
If it hadn't actually happened,
So I convinced myself it wasn't happening
And I'm still struggling to believe it.
It'd be easier
If it was all in my head
Because then I'd have something to be certain of
(Even if it was only my uncertainty)

And I wouldn't have to admit to myself
That I was in love with a sociopath.
I wouldn't have to wonder
Whether or not she did it on purpose.
I wouldn't have to face the fact that I feel abused and broken
And empty
And like there's a hole in me I'm not sure how to fix
That I allowed to be drilled there.