I cried myself to sleep last night.
I wasn't expecting that.
It's hard to not take the easy path and just hate you.
No matter what I may have said to pump myself up, I didn't want you to leave.
I wanted you to care enough to stay.
To care enough, just once, to try.
I wanted... to deserve what I needed.
Just once.
What's extra painful is watching you do, now, that you're available, all the little things I asked you to do.
Clean your damned house. Quit smoking. Lose your chunk.
I feel like a goddamned whore.
You bought food for sex. That's really all I seemed to be good for.
One-sided, all about you sex.
I feel entirely taken for granted.
Whatever.
This morning it's better.
Next week, I'll be relieved.
I begged you to wait until after your birthday though.
I won't go as the freshly bleeding ex. That's mortifying.
And I have pride.
Sometimes, that's all I have.
But I'm not unwanted.
And that helps.
I have the collar you refused to give me.
And I don't have to be confused or ashamed anymore.
This morning, it's better.
Next week, I'll be relieved.
But I think... I'll be the one not talking to you for a while.
That's how I roll.
And you're no different than anyone else.
I'm sorry for thinking you were.
So, we're done here.
I'm here now.
Some people may have already gotten notes from me there, or seen me on their stalking list.
I'll come back in a week, save it, and delete.
I'm done. I accomplished what I set out to do, if not what I wanted to do.
I have my skin, and I feel my feet, and I know who I am.
That's enough for now. |
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