Heart of glass
It’s 7:15 a.m. Wednesday and I’m already crying.
I just can’t seem to feel better.
I hurt so much and I feel like a big baby that can’t control my emotions.
I don’t know how anyone survives this without a complete loss of self esteem and dignity and for the first time in my life I feel unstable.
I’m angry at myself for being so horribly affected by this. I don’t know why it cuts so deep and I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time emotionally, as I am normally strong and I suspected this day would come. I thought I could prepare mentally to handle it but I am scared that I was wrong.
The first time, I forgave.
The second time, I forgave.
This time around maybe I just forfeit the game and let her have him. She sounds like she might be the right person for him and him for her if they can’t stay out of each other’s arms…and I’m not fool enough to believe they ever will.
This time, the pain goes deeper than before and I’m angry that I have been put in this position AGAIN, as if my first round of pain wasn’t sufficient enough and I deserved more.
I can’t get over the fact that he doesn’t think as much of me as I thought he did, and deep down, I DO know why I am crying and can’t sleep or eat.
It’s called trauma.
My heart cannot reconcile the fact that the person I love the most is the same person that has hurt me. I was raised in a home where the man of the house would never ever ever hurt my mom this way. Never. Ever. Daddy is good. Grandpa is good. Uncles are good.
I want Roger to be good that way too.
Why does he have to hurt ME? I’ve never even been loved in my marriage and I trust so easily and want to be cared about so badly. I got the shit end of the stick in my marriage and I want to know if there is ONE man out there that won’t hurt me.
Just fucking one.
One that might love me enough to wake up next to me and breathe me in and say, “this is the woman I love and I will protect her at all cost.” One that sees and feels and loves only me and nobody else. One whose heart is filled with protective love and one that will hold me and make me his baby and never hurt me. One that never makes me feel like I’m not good enough or smart enough or pretty enough.
One that never wants to see me cry.
One that wants to be a hero to a girl with a fragile ego and a battered heart and a pocket full of nothing.
When will I pull myself up by my bootstraps and put on a black dress and get back to who I know I am, a girl that would never let someone bring her to depths she cannot climb out of. Someone leading the way giggling and confident and happy and eternally optimistic. Where is SHE? I need to be the same calibur of confident as the bitch he’s fucking, that dared to call him up and see if she could get him on her hook like a big fish she could stuff and mount on the wall as a trophy to herself…after he told her he didn’t want her any more. Yup. She’s a winner.
Nah, you’re a horny bitch with no integrity for your own species. And I guess he likes women like that.
I can’t swallow the rage in my throat.
He didn’t pay enough of a price the first time he took me, US, for granted. His first betrayal made me feel sad and scared but this one makes me pissed as fuck.
Yup. I hit the anger stage in the four phases of GRIEF. Cuz trauma ain’t the only dinner guest here… grief is coming, too.
Grief is a loss, even if the loss is someone that betrayed your trust and undermined your confidence.
Grief is a raging freight train running errantly down the tracks with no conductor in the front. Grief is the silent enemy that squeezes you to death with arms that you thought would save you.
Grief has a hold on my beautiful, giving, soul and it won’t surrender and give it back to me. Instead, it slaps me in the face in the morning when I wake up and tells me I’m not worth a shit.
I need to silence the taunting voice of his lover in my head. I have to beat her ass mentally and take my fucking dignity back.
I don’t need to go down a raging path of self destruction. I don’t need to defend my sexuality and prove my sexual worth to myself and every man in four surrounding counties. It won’t do anything but make me sadder than I already am.
Today I will go silent, with only my own voice inside my head, and I will fight a battle with the other voice telling me I’m ugly and flawed and unworthy of good love.
I need to be the bad ass I know I am inside and pick myself up off the floor and do business.
Self love is the greatest middle finger.
And to every man that hurts a woman…
Fuck.
Off.