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I’ve opened the window and even though it’s not cold outside or wet, my cheeks are damp and cool. How could something so earth shattering happen and yet gravity still spins, day bleeds into night and the people outside my door laugh, none the wiser to my own world - with its own truths that I thought would never change - has collapsed like sand on a beach.
“I love you.”
“I’ll always be there.”
They were absolutes. Statements. But they were finite and like sentences, ended with a full stop somewhere. Only I wanted us to have semi colons, vertical ellipsis and conjunctions, anything but an end. I am so foolish.
We had grown apart. I’ve felt it in the way I had become an extra option to your days, when your presence with me turned into tiresome duty and when our conversation grew to a mix of abbreviations; “ok”, “sure”, “whatever you want”, “Hey”, and lastly “goodbye”.
When did being with you become a lonesome experience? We were eating, sleeping and living parallel to each other’s lane rather than merging together and enjoying the scenic route of memories we were making along the way. Did I mean nothing to you anymore? And when I raised it with you, you said I had become overly emotional, not logical but when did love had to be digested logically? Measured out and conducted like some scientific hypothesis you were trying to prove. What were you trying to prove exactly? That we weren’t compatible anymore I bet.
Then I realised it one day when I was cleaning out the wardrobes we had. There was a lovey row of navy suits I’ve never seen before and new silk ties pressed into equally sharp boxes and bright polo shirts that I was sure I never bought for you. And a hideous Gucci belt???! You had never cared for those things before. Everything was new. And shiny. And beautiful. I caught myself in the mirror with my own sweaty and beet-red face and opened my own wardrobe. Old, cheap, used lovingly and repeatedly, faded. Those were my clothes. The only fancy pair was a cocktail dress I had bought 5 years ago for your sister’s wedding and even that looked dated. I stood there for a time, comparing your wardrobe and mine after you handed me those divorce papers and I laughed. The neighbours must’ve thought I was crazy because all I could do was laugh. All these years I spent at your side and I never saw what you saw about me; a simple minded, ageing and old lady who reminded you of the good days but not the future. Did she offer you the future? Or maybe she helped you regained your lost youth with her flashy dress, her gorgeous face and perky breasts.
So I threw them out. I took those pile of shitty clothes that were almost as old as the woman you were f*cking and set them down in a huge pile in our backyard. I threw some petrol and then I burned them alongside the woman I was. Those bras that were too tight and dug at my sides, the lumps around my stomach and thighs which had grown from a body that pushed out two kids that I’ve poked and tucked in to fit into that size 12 dress and those bloody high heels that you said made my butt looked cute but made my feet bleed. I watched them burn with the same heat that gathered in my eyes and my throat. Today I wasn’t only throwing out me but you. Like used clothes, we had outgrown each other and now, perhaps it was time to try out new a fashion other than the clunky, mottled jacket called “your wife”.
By the way, I sold most of your luxury belts and the ring. You sure as hell aren’t getting any of those back because I’m buying myself a nice evening dress… with a thigh split for once and a new haircut I think.
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That's much better, isn't it? A new life that is free of junk. I hope letting go will be easy for you, ma'am, you are so strong and I believe in your happiness wholeheartedly. He doesn't deserve you if he won't appreciate you. Someone else definitely will. Many people will. Likeminded people, other men. Your children must love you too, and they must be proud, or at least I hope they are, for making the right choice. Your speech is very fluent and beautiful, it pours like a small spring. It's alive, too, not polished. You are so very alive now that you aren't weighted down by someone's opinion and injustice. Enjoy your time and make it a good one because you're worthy of love, and first things first, love from yourself to you.
ReplyI agree with that because I had a Boyfriend name Eddie we still talking but we just got into a fight yesterday every time we get in the comes to abuse me every time he would like to come in the morning at 3.00 clock he leaves his phone on the bed like he would talk to girls behind my back when I first meet him it wasn't like this we had a good friendship I would tell him every time how I feel we just be laughing whenever I am sad he would come over and he said bea lets talk he said I know what I did was wrong and I'm sorry for everything I need can you believe me this time and now we are open up with each other that's all it takes for the one person to understand you so I know how u feel I was like so yea I get it and I know it hurts yes I do women need to be loved ta then end of the day because you want a man who going to take care of you so yea I get it and ill be pray about you even though I don't know you u need a friend that's going to be real with you in by ur side so remember that plses I'm begen you
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