deviant discovery
There were the good times and truer still
i loved him.
Even through the cruel words and the awful sex.
I loved him when he was unfaithful-- when he kept me hidden.
When he made it so clear that he was embarrassed to be with me.
I loved him when he left
his memory like sour milk.
In spring he returned,
lying on and on about the only things that mattered.
The touch of his chewed fingers and sweaty palms
reeking of inadequacy-- tattooed perverse nostalgia on my skin.
legs crossed and heart bound i held on
though the winter.
It's difficult not to care when pride is at stake
the love is far gone but the hurt is still close to forget
i let him see me so infinitely vulnerable.
my big regret.
It is totally beyond my sphere of comprehension, how after all this time, he could look me in the face and lie.
I've never fully grasped, in the course of our experience together, if his lies were to protect or torment.
I guess he doesn't know he's a terrible actor.
He must certainly realize i always find out.
I'm angry that i was blatantly deceived, point blank and stone faced, but angrier that i can still be hurt by it.
It's strange that when you let the wrong people know exactly what hurts you, they use that information, not to protect you from harm, but to manipulate the most delicate of emotions-- over and over and over and over and over again.
To convey a false image or impression of the severity of his situation in hopes to, what?, spare me?, is not consideration.
It's fucked up and totally pointless.
I just want to know why, now, at this point when our long-over relationship doesn't matter any more, and the wounds have all but healed, he still finds it important to deliver the blows.
I feel like an idiot, again.
Nothing changes here.
I'm not entirely sure why i'm writing this in LJ.
i'm nearly ashamed.
i'm not trying to be poetic, like my other entries...whatever i typed just flew out first.
I'm trying to maintain rationality and yet i feel i have to write this stupid disclaimer as i'm uncertain of who reads this.
There's always some fool critic who misses the point.
I'm just sick of being jerked around.
Chances are the next one will be a liar too.
i loved him.
Even through the cruel words and the awful sex.
I loved him when he was unfaithful-- when he kept me hidden.
When he made it so clear that he was embarrassed to be with me.
I loved him when he left
his memory like sour milk.
In spring he returned,
lying on and on about the only things that mattered.
The touch of his chewed fingers and sweaty palms
reeking of inadequacy-- tattooed perverse nostalgia on my skin.
legs crossed and heart bound i held on
though the winter.
It's difficult not to care when pride is at stake
the love is far gone but the hurt is still close to forget
i let him see me so infinitely vulnerable.
my big regret.
It is totally beyond my sphere of comprehension, how after all this time, he could look me in the face and lie.
I've never fully grasped, in the course of our experience together, if his lies were to protect or torment.
I guess he doesn't know he's a terrible actor.
He must certainly realize i always find out.
I'm angry that i was blatantly deceived, point blank and stone faced, but angrier that i can still be hurt by it.
It's strange that when you let the wrong people know exactly what hurts you, they use that information, not to protect you from harm, but to manipulate the most delicate of emotions-- over and over and over and over and over again.
To convey a false image or impression of the severity of his situation in hopes to, what?, spare me?, is not consideration.
It's fucked up and totally pointless.
I just want to know why, now, at this point when our long-over relationship doesn't matter any more, and the wounds have all but healed, he still finds it important to deliver the blows.
I feel like an idiot, again.
Nothing changes here.
I'm not entirely sure why i'm writing this in LJ.
i'm nearly ashamed.
i'm not trying to be poetic, like my other entries...whatever i typed just flew out first.
I'm trying to maintain rationality and yet i feel i have to write this stupid disclaimer as i'm uncertain of who reads this.
There's always some fool critic who misses the point.
I'm just sick of being jerked around.
Chances are the next one will be a liar too.