This is my post on Honeychile for today...

Tears.

I don't have any. At least not now. Not today. I have not one precious drop of salty sadness to release for him. For us. For 10 years of off and on. Back and forth. Love and hate.

I don't know what I feel cuz see I've known for a year. I've known that he was never going to straighten up and fly right. I've known each time he's lied. Each time we've fought. At first we would clash bitterly because my heart was so full of love I would go crazy when I felt rejected or disrespected. As of late I have cool indifference for his slights. I find myself singing 99 Problems...and he's the bitch. The one I don't consume myself worrying over anymore because it's a lost cause. I don't call. Or email. Or wonder after him most of the day. He's gonna do him regardless. I can't hold his heart. Or his dick.

Well gotdammitgirl. If I don't care, why do I continue to keep him around even on the most basic level? Why do I spend even 10 minutes a day thinking about him and refusing to be free? I sincerely don't know.

Maybe I'm afraid. Afraid of losing our bits and pieces of happiness I've formed slowly over the years into a makeshift quilt to cover me when I am at my lowest. Perhaps I'll be naked without it. So naked I won't be able to hide. I won't have any protection. I won't have a "Plan B." Nothing to count on. Cuz as sure as today is Friday, I can count on the fact he is around. Even if he's not about shit. He's around. Even if we are fighting. Even if he's ignoring me or giving me the "Ihateyourfuckingguts" look. He's around.

Fucking pathetic is what it is.

I'm not getting any younger. Any thinner. Any more attractive. Nor any wiser when I just sit in the mess I've made instead of getting up and moving on. Scared of what might happen if I was completely alone. I've divorced...Why can't I leave this man?

Sometimes I question myself. My mind. I can't possibly be right. To let him continually run me into the ground. To have let him know my every thought and feeling only to turn it on me while I act as if nothing happened? Why try to pretend we could work things out when I know him like the back of my hand?

I'm a fool. And that shit hurts.





It is very nearly impossible . . . to become an educated person in a country so distrustful of the independent mind. James Baldwin