That even in the face of your betrayal a part of me, the heart of me, still wants this to work, even though every other part of me knows I should walk away. Because you have lied to me. Because you have lied to me so indecently even as I, the person you supposedly love, have been in need.
Again, you have put your blind fear first before us.
I want this cycle of fear to end for you, for us.
Yet I don't know if you can do it.
I want to say goodbye, but a part of me is still torn apart by the memory of your softness, your love, your gentility.
Yet, my head wonders how you could have really loved me when you so lied to me so blatantly. Despite my crying. Despite my clearly being at my wits' end.
I guess perhaps, this is my lesson, my path to walk. To learn how love can overcome rage. How it can make even what you have done something that I can distance myself from and not let it shake my self worth.
I see now how I can be blinded. After talking to your mother I realised, she is not my enemy. She is instead like any other mother, limited by her own flaws and unresolved issues, her baggage and her hopes for her own children. Her belief that her children are good and kind people who were raised to be considerate, to be self-sufficient in this world.
She too, like me, feels isolated from you. Cut off. Banished into the darkness.
I too, like her, cling to you in fear that you will otherwise float away or drift, unmoored.
We are alike in our love for you, I recognise that now.
She does not stand between us. You do.
I keep asking myself to be more mature, to try and see my own fault in this plot. My flaws.
But all I keep seeing is that perhaps I have been in love with the idea of you, the possibility of you that exists in parts through your gentleness that I wish would balloon out and inflate your whole.
And loving an idea is not how you build a real partnership.
Loving a real person is.
So perhaps that is where my fault lies.
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