If I had to give a reason for why I had to make her leave me – it was easy. For a start, I couldn’t leave her. It was impossible for me – yet to push her over the edge was the easiest thing in the world, to force her to hate me so much she would never come back. Now, the reason I wanted her to leave me was obtuse, narcissistic and insane – I blamed her. It was her fault I hadn’t made a movie yet, written a book, travelled the world. It must’ve been her fault cos it sure as hell wasn’t mine.
After a drink, my savoir and solace – it spiralled into my lap that way, into ease. I didn’t even have to try, for in a way the intoxicated infected brain tried to teach me what was right – what I meant and what I could never let go. The darkest corners of oblivion took over me.
It happened so much more quickly than I could ever imagine. She cut me straight like a knife, like I never could. Like all the years, all the days, all the affection meant nothing. It could never have been so easy for me and the rejection that dawned was something I was untouched by – until this moment. And it hurt like a razor skimming your ankle. Like a cut to the throat.
Luckily, sadness fuels something else in me. A desire I was chasing, a desire to be everything I had ever wanted.
I spent so long trying to break free yet all I’m left with is sadness, isolation and regret.
I want you back like nothing I’ve ever felt before.