miserableburner
Angel brought down
- Mar 11, 2023
- 13
I pour my heart out. I let him see genuine emotion out of me, what I have not shown anyone in painful months aside from slips of what I feel are a mask for the general public when convenient or I am otherwise forced, the occasional moment of weakness that sting and stay with me, and it meant nothing. It means nothing, actively. My effort is disregarded, I am told what a waste it was, I am beyond chastised all because I wanted clear communication. I am made to feel as if I'm playing the victim when I am genuinely hurt and confused, because I just don't know what I did wrong. He saw my soul, he saw me as raw and emotional and as VULNERABLE as I could be just to encourage the same from him, openness and comfort and vulnerability in a romantic relationship, to engage in any kind of intimacy and it worsens everything. I tell him I am on his side and I apologize for any belief he may hold that he's done wrong because I am worn out, miserable, fatigued from how difficult life has been and the fact I have had to pull myself together in under a month's time after living through reckless abandon for half of a decade and that just having to be okay or I end up homeless, or back in a hospital, me NEEDING to hold up a stone face and not tell him or anyone else and it all meant nothing. I cannot imagine what he is facing, as I know it to be much, much worse, and still ongoing whether or not mine the same. I am in physical agony from how badly this hurts, and he will move on tomorrow as if it didn't happen with if anything a ten minute talk and maybe an apology, half of one, because really he hasn't done anything but be insecure. Nothing sanctions sorriness and it would only hurt more to receive c hisondolences over a lack of malice. I've fed into his insecurities by being unable to deliver as a lover. Because I was scared he'd be mean, that he'd hurt me, because I acted on cowardice and assumed the worst of the one I love the most over what he cannot control in the first place and thought he may weaponize his own insecurities, I withdrew further. I told myself if I was honest, if I acted on the assumption that maybe it wasn't self harm in some way for him to reassure me, it'd all be okay. I wanted to trust him so fucking badly, and I ended up emasculating myself to him again further, what has ruined us from his point of view in the first place. He didn't even deny it, and the fact that I was correct in him seeing me a castrated man and have nowhere to pity myself on this because I am responsible for not upholding a vow in one way or another is what hurts the most. I am beyond devastated, and this is something that will stick with me each day until something gives. It is all so unstable and it is not intentional, because all I try to do is hold us together, make it easy for him to understand when he cannot. I need him to know my commitment, how dedicated to him, his feelings, likes and dislikes I am, to our love, how nothing has ever wavered, including and especially my desire no matter where I stand emotionally, I crave intimacy that in the meantime, unresolved indefinitely, sits and waits because to force it upon someone who is not ready and cannot do with it what fully provides means I will lay and wait instead, and if not upright I will sink. It all hurts and I want to feel less punished, less drained, because I physically cannot cry anymore without immediate pain to my eyes. To be devalued so much I receive a genuine request for infidelity feels the closest to a painful, imagined death people generalize when the topic of the much more serene real counterpart arises. I bring him to wish for an end, a painful one, that he thinks would be a mercy in comparison to what my lack of providing has brought him to, and I selfishly crave the painless stop that would be abrupt and nevermore. I am a mule and I offer servitude, the only kind he'd value, to give cyclically and not stop until I myself have depleted before his eyes, the lack of object permanence would mean I disappear in a blink and live on no more than the blur stood across from him before he'd closed his eyes, my last view would be his eyes closing, and my only view to come to date. He'd curse God for robbing him, not realizing He himself had brought me to his metaphorical side, to the sky he shouts at. All else and I am nothing, other behavior is sick and he simply shuts his eyes to see the better world, the spots of color in vacancy, a dark room vast and lonely none come to appreciate until they've experienced lower. The flaming underworld that only one who has resided below all seven circles can believe to be heaven because the fire's so bright, a place where they've become accustomed to silence in so they may believe the screaming of tortured heretics to be angels singing is the reprieve found when he is rid of me. Despite my efforts, I've shown him nothing but pain, and to feel myself suffer to the point I feel as though I am a child pleading for my tormentors to leave me again is something subconsciously I know I deserve in spite of my lack of knowledge of what wrong I've done. I don't know where the fault was, but I have faulted irreparably, failed in my one occupation I devoted myself to, and I hold myself in contempt for this alone.
