Thursday, 14 November 2013

I'm not broken.

"We need to sort this out" you said, so matter-of-factly, like it was an equation we were trying to tackle. A problem that could be solved if only the answer could be calculated correctly. You were cold, with that blank look in your eyes. Don't say I'm being "dramatic" and "overreacting" when you know how I feel. Those stolen kisses seem so long ago. The smiles we shared, behind closed doors, the private silly little things we said to one another. Don't irrationalise my reactions just to keep your conscience clear. Shouts and screams, spat out words you can't take back. Slurred insults, the ugly truth announced to a less than willing audience. I told you to walk away, and yet there you stood, looking as arrogant as ever. That blank, smug look so effortlessly placed across your face. You stared straight through me, laughed in my face when I told you, and then, I screamed again. "Just walk away" and when you didn't, what did you expect? I've got more pride than that. To walk away meant so much more than just leaving a moment I didn't want or need to experience. It meant something final. Accepting that yet again, I'd made a huge mistake. Even though I spent such a long time defending your actions, as soon as the tables turned, I didn't need any persuasion. In floods of tears, I walked away. You watched me go, as if to humour me. Slamming the door of the taxi, falling into bed and crying until I was numb and shaky. Ignoring all my texts and phone calls. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I didn't want to hear those fake apologies, of even worse, the "I told you so." The torn moment between biting my tongue and blurting out everything I'd kept back for so long, and i did. It all just came flooding out, along with tears so violently down my cheeks, leaving my eyes bloodshot and my make up blotchy. I walked away from the tequila at the bar, the reassurances from friends, anyone who could attempt to console me. Some things need to be done alone, and with a sober head. The second chance I shouldn't have taken, the person I shouldn't have had to defend, the latest in a long line of mistakes. But don't get to thinking you're making me miserable. I'd rather break my neck than give you the satisfaction of crying over you. I'm stronger than I look y'know.

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