I'm one of those

You know those people, those people who are great friends, who are there to make you laugh, to make you smile, to do whatever you might need? Well I'm one of those people, but I'm the worthless kind -- not worthless, but the kind that you damn well need a lot of patience for.

Someone can come wrap up all that I have, feelings, emotions, and they are the focus of my life. That's a serious flaw, and it has it's charming moments, yeah, but when you decide to let someone become that integral to your life, they have all the power that you had previously given a close, and guarded group of friends. And they can wield that power over you, as a single person, throwing shards of ice into your heart and immobilizing you with pain and fear, unable to continue with life, because they are your life. The can call down lightning and strike you dumb, emotionless, and so malleable, that what has happened to that inner person that you were? I never thought any of this was bad, well of course I did, but I always thought that I made good choices in life (and no, I don't make good choices), but because I felt like I had made a good choice, I saw no harm in what could be done to me, and I never felt like I had a hold on someone else in such a way. Things are never reciprocal, no matter how much we try, no matter how much we want, and no matter how much we need any kind of relationship to be, whether or not it's a friendship, a love, or any person in our life.

I think I've had a history of things like this, how I always get into this pattern, I don't know, yeah I have inklings about it, but that's an entirely different post.

I don't know if the other person, in this relationship with me, the current person, or the past people, know how slowly my own persona is being replaced by what is being shoved there (whether they are intentional, or whether they are doing it for other subconscious reasons), but I always wonder. So many people ask? What has changed? You know, it's such a simple answer, but the blame is always on my end. In fact, the blame in every problem is always on my end at this point. Beautiful, how things start, and then how things degenerate into such... mediocrity, that I am still pouring my heart and soul into, and yet they can call me a cold-hearted asshole, when I have my entire life invested in them, when I have my entire self invested in them, when I have my entire future invested in them. Well, if that emotion is so cold to them, I guess I deserve that title. I hope not all people see me that way. Not everyone says I'm an awful person, and not everyone says I'm this manipulative asshole that they say I am, in retrospect, after they have broken every piece of my heart and are demanding why I can't still be there for them. Well, some people that still care for me, can realize that what they give on the surface to me and the world, is complete and utter bullshit, and they can hide behind their own flaws, they can substitute their own reasons for my apparent inadaquecies; that's the problem, there is always something wrong with me. And no matter how hard I try to fix it, or make it better -- just attempting at all is an admittal of wrong. I know damn fucking well, that there is nothing wrong, and that what they are seeing, is something lacking in their own life, that they need to tack onto me, in a pathetic, sad, way. I feel sad, that they can't move past this, that if I confront them with it, it's so much of a shock that verbal accusations follow of how I'm a demeaning, awful person, who could never understand living in their shoes.

You know what? I couldn't. I am not a perfect person. I'm not a good person, either. I'm not, much of well, anything to be proud of. I do a lot of wrong things, on purpose or on accident. But I can recognize when, living in their shoes, is another saying for, let me put the blame on you, because I can't live up to my own life, and I can't live up to my own problems, and it's easier if the blame is squarely on someone I love, because my problem is magically gone now.

I hope these people, when they have driven me to the limit, and I have the patient of a saint, and then some, realize that just maybe, maybe, they might regret not wanting to work things through and instead of forcing words in my mouth about, wah wah, that _I_ cannot handle it, that _I_ don't want it to work, that I have never said any of those words, and if those are such big concerns to them, them maybe, just for once, they can utter a little bit of truth. It's pretty scary, I know, I'm bad at the truth, but if they could tell me that bit of truth; you know what? I could understand. And life could go on, and I could be *that* person that you want me to be, i'll be malleable, moldable, whatever you want, just give me the real truth, the truth behind your truth, the truth behind your anger, the truth behind your sadness. Just think for a moment darling, and tell me what really is the problem, and I would be there for you, 110%, but if you cannot do that, if you can't take that step back, if you can't pull yourself back when you're lashing out with every hurtful emotion and blame game, that you won't admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, there might be something deeper behind such silly emotions on the outside, that I might be willing to listen, and help you, and help us.

Call me your lost cause Nicole, put words into my mouth, put feelings into my body, do what you need to do, to make this something that is my fault, to make it something easier for you to deal with.

You know the torture I went through, you know the abuse I went through, where did that truth you showed, where you admitted to me, how awful things were for me, regardless of your own situation, you could just say things. Without putting it through bullshit, without any of that. That you could just say things, for real. Consider it ironic, that I always sought out dreams, and consider it ironic that when I sought out reality, it was you that refused to give it to me.

I won't live a love constructed on a lie. You know your own life is built on a stack of cards, and that at any moment it will collapse, and that is no fault but your own. Reach out, be honest, be truthful, be caring, and yeah, fucking do ONE thing I ask for, write me an email about how this love will continue to work. You couldn't, wouldn't, and had all the excuses in the world, mostly filled with conclusions that it wouldn't already work. Well, I guess I fulfilled your presumptions, let it make you happy, let it make your life flourish, let your fucking life get on without me as baggage.

I'm sure as hell not letting another manipulative, borderline, person use me as baggage, and I'm sure as fuck not letting that pull me under.

Call me someday, lets compare notes, and see where you are in life, and I'll ask you if you really meant to turn your back on what I offered to you; and you can ask me if I really am happy with who I am now, and where I am now.

I'll not predict the future, but you're more than welcome to, just put those words into my mouth and those feelings into my heart. You're very good at it.

I sacrified more of myself for you, than anyone, ever, and you let it end all so easily. Oh, I'm so fucking sorry I grew a backbone. Oh, I'm so fucking sorry I started to care about my own heart. Oh, I'm so fucking sorry that your excuses that you give me month in and month out, that seem tailored to rip apart my own self-will, just wasn't enough to make myself break-down in front of you. I asked for truth, I said I will work on this, for years, just give me that one thing I asked for. You couldn't and that's it. A small thing? Maybe? A big thing? Maybe. But, at the stage we had reached, deceit between us and your husband isn't something that was helping anyone, it was hurting everyone involved, it was hurting me. You have your problems and your solutions to fix those, I respected that, and was willing to go through a sham of love (because what really was this?), and continue knowing that this was driving your husband to the end of his wits. It's cruelty, and I commited myself to a future of cruelty. I guess I have said no to that, now, I never got to say no to you once ever, not even in the end, you got to say the endings for me. And when it's gotten to such a pathetic point where you will end it all _for me_, just because it's the gosh darn right thing (who are you kidding?), well, the relationship has become silly. You've forggetten I can think for myself, and whenever you convinced yourself of that, is when things went downhill. My opinions mattered less, my wants mattered less, and it was the continual blame game; substituting your own personal problems in with my perceived fuck ups.

Enough of me talking, none of these words can change what a person like you thinks or feels. But I owe it to you to tell you my side of the story, when you wouldn't let me.

Endings are hard, and my heart is broken again, and I'm crying all to fucking hell, and that's all the story you're going to get out of me.