Struggle

Here I sit again at this lonely computer, puking my brains out using words instead of vomit. Sometimes that's what it feels like, this writing I do. I noticed a hated trend. As much as I love writing, I hate it, because my best writing tends to be when there's something going wrong in my life.

I'm still waiting for the day when I stop thinking about him. I'm still waiting for the day when I will stop loving him, stop wishing he would walk through my door and open his arms to me. The funny thing is, the door is still open on his end. I could say the word and have everything back, have everything that I was ever in need or in want of. Ironic that when I am offered the world, I have to turn my back on it. And I vomit my frustration onto this keyboard, force the words out in a steady stream to hopefully make myself feel better. Sometimes it works, sometimes I just sit and rock with a sour taste in my mouth and nothing will come out. I hate those days.

I thought it wasn't possible for me to screw up any farther, never thought I'd second guess myself on him. But I do. And I am. And it angers and frustrates me.

I discovered the love of my life kissing another girl on the internet. She posted the picture special for me, knew I existed. In her 19 years of ignorant life, she could have no idea of the harm she caused in fulfilling her own selfish desires. She got him, all right, but she got the leftovers. She got what he was too afraid to give me, which hurt me more deeply than I thought imaginable. But she didn't get his heart, the important part. She got attention and family and time with friends, but when it came to his heart, it was still reserved for me. She had flowers in her backseat and they were beautiful, I had the diamond ring set aside, waiting to be handed to me this Christmas. How could I have known all that? But it didn't matter. What mattered was that this man I loved for seven years set all of his better judgement, all his love for me aside and dated this other girl for six months without my knowledge. I blindly trusted him and he knowingly lied to me for months, rejecting me even while planning to ask me to marry him. Bitter irony, where is your justice?

I found someone else immediately, stumbled into him and fell in love instantaneously. I looked into his eyes and saw everything I had been missing. He has given everything to me in abundance and I am so grateful, yet something is still not there. I don't feel like I have his heart. I have every outward sign of health from him but not the emotional attachment I had grown used to with someone else. I am so angry that I am caught between making the decision. One, to be with someone who crushed me repeatedly, finally committing the most heinious crime possible by his infidelity, making it impossible for me to ever trust him again. The other, to love a man who gives me everything but his undivided love, his heart, his everything. He pays for my meals and opens doors and spends time with my family and friends and I with his, but when I cuddle close to him on sleep Sunday afternoons, his back is turned towards me. I still hold without being held. Neither one of them can meet my needs for completely different reasons, and once again I feel trapped.

I wonder if I will ever recover from him. I wonder if that was my one chance at pure, innocent, unconditional love, the love that children have... because we were children who grew up into adults... or if I'm right in turning away because there is more in life and I simply haven't found it. I'd almost prefer to see him happy with someone else at this point so the door would be closed and I no longer had to wonder, no longer had to... long.