Crushed

Imagine: that feeling when you are guarded but trying to unfurl your layers of armor so you can actually enjoy the safety and happiness that are in your world right now.

And then you fuck something up. You peek behind the curtain and know things you can never un-know. Cruel words that curl up and befriend all the self hatred that Tom unleashed into your brain. Knowing that the bad, horrible, selfish, broken parts of you, not only does your love see them, but he agrees with your horrible assessment of yourself.

And your timing makes it worse.  And it sets off a chain reaction in your Love. And knowing that makes you feel lower. The more he talks and explains, the lower you feel. Until you wish you could dissolve into nothingness. You wish you never were.

And you cry and you talk and things are salvaged. And he wants to move forward, stronger and better. And you want to run. You want to ghost. You want to warp yourself up in layers and layers of armor. You wonder why you keep making idiotic attempts to unwrap your dark, shriveled heart and give it to someone. Your unworthy, selfish, unreasonable heart. That no one will want.

Tom said a lot of insulting things. And all of them were so far from the mark as to be laughable. But one. He got one barb that cut so fucking deep. The words imprinted on your brain. I could be senile, not knowing the days of the week, but I'll remember his parting shot.

And though he didn't mean to be hurtful, my Love said words that are seared into the brain. Words that dovetail nicely with the poison Tom dripped in my ear. And you aren't mad at your Love, and you're fairly certain he isn't mad at you. But you're hurt and feel like such a wretch that you don't know if you can continue the relationship, because you're the worst person, with ridiculous wants and needs, a bottomless pit of need and dissatisfaction. Because you love him and he broke your heart. Again.