For the other woman who sought me out in desperation, in an effort to understand what was happening to her, I am truly sorry.
You and I have spent months, years, trying to figure out our compulsion for the same person only to be left with no answers and our lives wrecked, yours more significantly than my own. I had the luxury of living far enough away.
It didn’t stop me from pining for him, it didn’t stop me from wanting to be at his side, from being willing to take whatever he might dish out. I don’t know what drives us, but I can be certain that you and I were not driven by the same things until we met him.
Take care of yourself, be good to yourself, leave him to the past, it is the only way you will be safe.
We’re all broken, right? In one way or another we have bits that are twisted up like train wrecks that, short of a miraculous ability to undo damage, remains twisted from point of impact; but what makes the difference between revulsion and the desire to help someone or even expressing empathy?
All jokes aside, that man, whose sickness reverberates like a bullet on bone, has cut a swath of destruction through the lives of many people, and yet I feel sad for him. I feel sad that the only way in which he can identify with another is by controlling every aspect of that contact.
Disbelief occupies the space which was once filled with desire, it feels better, more distant and the ache has ceased.
No joke. What do you do when you realize that the person that you pined for turns out to be a potential serial killer? In all seriousness. Every breath becomes a strange reward and reminder that it could have been me, me locked in his house for days on end, me who was forced to wear the clothes I had been given, no choice, no options…me who served as whipping post for his deranged and vicious guilt.
Today I wanted to share a poem with you, but you have vanished…there’s no choice, really, but to wait, to imagine that you will reappear.
The trees, because you cannot see the forest without the trees, sounds cliche doesn't it? The only "bad" thing about a cliche is that such idioms have been over used and their meaning diminished but if we allow ourselves to push past the cliche to see the "truth" of it then maybe we will learn something.
I see the trees, though I know there is a forest, I only need to shift my focus/perspective and I can see the whole. Maybe it's less about either/or and more about both, seeing how one may exist without the other however together they become something wholly different…possibly better.
January 13, 2011. I got everything I wanted but the fallout was horrific. I'll think things through a bit more thoroughly next time.