I Did It Again

I did it again.

One of the things I can’t seem to forgive myself for is how easy it is for men to fall romantically out of love for me. I use to believe that I was easy to love, harder to leave. But I was lied to. The truth is harder to hear.

I did it again.

I have been preventing and protecting myself from loving again, from falling, from giving, from being seen — and it takes so much strength in me to let someone in, to let a man in. I took down those walls again without much of a conscience, at least what I thought was right. So I’m again am dying. I’m again feeling the numbness in my soul, the horrific death inside of me.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

Mama…everything hurts.

It hurts.

I did it again.

My mental health, I notice, prevents men from seeing me. My mental health prevents men from giving a type of love I’ve wanted and needed a lot of my life, shocked and disheartened by the committed relationship I have with Anxiety. My mental health ceases all notions of never doubting their love. I’m half loved, you see, and apparently, being half loved is where it counts.

I did it again.

I regret writing about them, I do, especially for the public to see. The unfortunate aspect of it all is relatively regretting the fall, falling for them. “You should’ve known,” I’ve said in my darkness, “you knew it was too good to be true. A man like that to stay in love with you…after showing the depths of your fucked up mind? It’s borderline impossible. We’ve been through this before.”

I did it again

A past lover of mine years ago once said they wanted to stay friends afterwards, because he valued my friendship, even after what he did. He said those words I hear one too many times, “I enjoy your company.” Ha, the men always do. I might be doing most of the giving, the texting, the feeding, and they might have a body to use, a body to take, a soul to ruin. Yes, they have always enjoyed my company. I’m this good enough to stay. It must justify why they hold on to me until my value runs out, and eventually, let me go with a slap.

“Friends”, he states. “Triggered,” I hear. He “enjoys my company,” and “doesn’t love me the way I want him to.”

I look above me towards the stars and laugh at the irony. Even if I take different routes, those words never cease to exist. The parallel, ha, the pattern is uncanny. Similar words, similar meaning — I’ve never not been fooled.

I did it again.

I’ve said them myself, to a man I know I got, who would forever love me romantically, even while with another woman. I had asked him to murder all the hope too, but if I were to ever settle and be with a man who I know will love me eternally without doubts or repercussions, whose feelings would remain until my dying breath, it would be him. I would settle with him.

I did it again.

“Find someone better.” I know, I always do. But each time, I’m reluctant to give myself away. It took so much in me to say the words “I love you.” They know how much it took in me, they saw the tremors and hesitations, they saw the words and resistance. Now it feels illegal to ever say it again. It comes easy to these men, I feel, who say it in a week, in a day, feel it in less than hour.

Me, it takes me months, it takes my entire soul.

It was more than they thought it actually was, it’s what I know love to be, the love I had to give.

I did it again.

So I cry twice more. I cry to the gods, push my knees up against my chest and pull them close to my heart. I lament to the rough winds that scream through my window pane, and I let myself feel a child’s death in my bones.

I did it again.

It took only four months this time.

I did it again.

“It’s a trap.” I’ll post that to my grave.

I did it again.

Don’t lie to yourself and think you’ll stay in love with me.

I’m not the one. I won’t become your wife.

I did it again.

But the next one will.

Trust.

I’ve got evidence.

I did it again.

I did it again.

I did it again.

Food For Thought Life Stuff Mental Health Matters Poetry In Motion Relationship Talk TREMG news

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: