I've always wondered ... which would hurt more? Stabbing my heart with my kitchen knife? Jumping out the 18th floor window? Suicide Bag? But I discovered this evening, they pale in comparison with the hate and contempt that blaze in your eyes.
You say that my sensitivity has gone overboard. You accuse me of acting belligerently. You listen to all those around except the one you stare at accusingly, the one who has embarrassed you in front of your peers. You do not bother to ask me about my position, what my views are, what I have to put up with, to go through. No. My word counts for nothing. Why? Because you already made up your mind a long time ago that I was a lying, sniveling, conniving, sensitive, uncouth bastard who can't be trusted.
Well, that's OK. I've come to accept that tonight. But I wish you nothing but the best.
I thank God the day I decided to move out and put some distance between us. Maybe it'll be like him and me. We needed not only time, but space as well. So maybe I'll just stop seeing you for 8 years. Maybe that'll work.
2 comments:
Sounds like you're badly hurt. I thought about this quote as I read your post. Am not sure what your situation is, but hope you find some comfort in these words anyway.
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” ~Dr. Seuss~
Dear Fiona -
Thanks for the words, they mean a TREMENDOUS amount to me and helped me see just that much more clearly. I realized a lot of things last night, and your words helped.
Thanks for taking the time to be a little part of my life. ;)
Cheers and God Bless You abundantly,
Ken.
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