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Did You See Me?

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Did you see me? Because I sat right there, right in your view. You could have seen me cry or just weep at the sight of you with that woman. Who was she anyways? Can you answer that? Can you answer anything?
These were the words I wanted to speak to you. No- YELL at you. Each word fueled the fire burning in my heart. I was halfway over the bridge to the land where you awaited. It was a bridge of trust and most importantly love. But it was burning like it was no more than a twig.
What did our love mean to you? Nothing? Well, I loved you. If you know anything else in your life I hope you know that I loved you. That you broke my heart and burned the pieces and everything that you ever were to me joined that fire.
So, I sat there that night- right in your view and stared. I stared at that redheaded woman. Was she prettier? Richer? Kinder? Did she know? And I watched you kiss her. Was it good? Did she have those soft lips that you once told me I had? Or did you say that to every woman?
Oh and by the way, was it ONLY her? Or is there more? Of course there is more. I gave you some freedom—the freedom that you begged for and yelled for. The freedom that you wanted. The kind of freedom I gave into. So this is what you do?
Well there's your stuff. As Beyonce would say, it’s to the left. Don't think I didn't know, because I do. Your choice, your consequences. Don't expect me to give in. Don't expect me to say yes to you anymore. I watched you lie and it's over. I don't know you anymore and I don't want to. It's too much. It's all too much. Where did you go? Actually, it doesn't even matter to me. I can't look at you anymore. I can't see you. Goodbye.
The phone rang for the millionth time today. I stared at it like I had stared at your stuff in that box you'd given me on Valentine's Day. When you picked it up to take it away, I couldn't look. I know you noticed.

I had all of it. Did you notice that? I had every single thing you'd ever given me. The notes, the roses, teddy bears—even the heart shaped chocolate box. I loved you, didn't you know? The roses may have died, the ink on the notes faded, the chocolate expired, but did I care? No.
I loved you.
You were the cutest, hottest, kindest guy in school. The guy who picked up a geek's books when they tripped in the hallway. The guy who was nice enough to tell a bully to shut the hell up. But he was nice enough to do this. Nice. What a wrongful word. You are Darius Patrick. The one and only.
Two years! TWO whole years! What happened? We had our 'dating' days. We'd go out every Friday and Saturday. We weren't bored. I wasn't bored. You always said stuff about how we were doing great. You said forever. What happened to that? Actually, what happened to you?
We'd been bored with each other for only a little while. I created our days and your OWN days. The days where you could go and do whatever. I trusted you. I believed in you. It was FREEDOM. We had the worst fights because of it. I use to think you were fighting for privacy—for space, but no. It was for her wasn't it?
Did you think I wouldn't find out—that I'd never know? I'd never suspect? Well I know and luckily you don't know that I do. I don't want to hear excuses. I don't even want to know what you have to say.
You said you were at your niece's birthday party! Wrong, you were at Elephant Bar with her of course.

"What is he doing?" Jenna asked me over the phone.
I turned and looked at him. "Kissing."
"Her?"
"Who else?" The words hurt me to say them aloud.
"It’s okay, Hannah," she whispered trying to comfort me.
"No it's not."
She stayed silent for a while then agreed. When I got home I sat and waited for him. I was still talking to Jenna.
"Say something to him when he gets home."
"Like what?"
"I don't know! How about: Did you eat dinner?"
"That sounds random."
"It's a CONVERSATION!" she insists.
"More like DESPERATION."
"Go with it or not. It's your choice."
"I know. But I don't feel like making that choice." And I didn't. Not at all. I'd rather go to bed and wake up to a fresh start. A NEW morning. One that has him lying next to me honest and pure.

But the next morning came and he was not beside me.
He hadn't even come home and then I knew exactly what happened. All I could think was WHY? When the man you love cheats on you the first thing is 'what did I do?' and that question confronts me right now.
So I sat and thought about it. I continuously asked myself, “Do I love him? Is he worth it?” and I could hear him as if he were whispering beside me, “Yes; you love him. Yes; he’s worth it.” But you’re not.


It took me months to say something—anything to you. I didn’t confront you until we were having dinner at Elephant Bar of all places. Of course it had to be Elephant Bar. You absolutely love the place, but still. We were having dinner, eating, nonchalant, everything normal. Until, you got a call—from her. Sure, I didn’t know at first that the slut was there behind the phone. You gave me the causal excuse, “Work.”
Please, I heard her voice through the phone. I’m not deaf. I’m not an idiot. I’ve known all along.
So when you got up and took the call, I sat there fuming. With jealousy, rage, pure anger. Anyone in a ten-mile radius could see the hate sizzling off of me. I kept thinking why would you do this to me? It took all of my will power not to get up and snatch the phone away from you. You stood in the back corner of the restaurant away from me talking to her and glancing at me.
Honestly, I hoped you were telling her goodbye, that it was over, and that you were happily engaged to me. But, you smiled and laughed with HER on your phone. You held that flaming happiness that’s been bottled up lately when you’re with me.
It hit me like bricks, the truth of it all.
When you came back, I didn’t say anything. I sat contemplating what I’d say to you. But you—you came back laughing, smiling, like all was right with the world, but really my heart was tearing up the last pieces of sanity I still had left.
And then you started talking about who called. About “work.” About how your “job” wanted to move you out of town for a couple of weeks. And in those five sentences of your excitement to do this “job” I had so much to say to you—to yell to you. And I did. I finally did.
It was over that night. I was done. You were done even though you made a point of hiding it and of begging for me back. But I knew and you knew that I knew. Nothing could change what I saw the first night and what I heard the last night. If you think I’m not enough then I’m not the one.
I hope you see.
I hope you see me.



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Haley_Elizabeth said...
Feb. 23, 2012 at 9:36 pm:

Oh. My. God.

Amazing.

 
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