No Lies, Just Love

You gave me beautiful memories and taught me valuable lessons about what it means to love someone. I loved you better than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I believe that that probably means I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I told you once that I only wanted good things for you, and you didn’t seem to believe me. It was true then, and even after everything that has happened between us, and as hurt as I’ve been, I still only want good things for you. Things are really bad right now, and as much as I wish I could reach for you because you are so strong and always make me feel so safe, I am staying away because I only want good things for you, and my feelings for you make it impossible for me not to fuck things up for you when you are with someone else. But even so, I still believe that I will always love you, and part of me will always be waiting for you.

Dear ex-boyfriend,

Six years ago, I left you for good because I was afraid of you. That’s what it really boiled down to, that I was constantly afraid and anxious around you, and I couldn’t say anything to you without immediately cringing because of the possibility that I had just inadvertently started a fight. Six years ago, I left you, but in some ways, you are still in my life every day. The things that you did to me still haunt me, and even though I know that most men are not like you and will not treat me the way that you did, what you did to me makes it impossible for me to get close to someone else. The cruel irony of this is that that didn’t stop me from falling in love with someone; it just made it impossible to actually open up and start a real relationship with him.

You were wrong about me, you know. You said that no one else would ever want me or ever love me, and I believed you, but you were wrong. Even though it didn’t work out between me and the person I fell in love with, he thinks I am beautiful and smart and kind, and he makes me feel safe. I am worth more than you thought I was.

But if things are ever going to work out for me romantically, I have to learn to trust again, and I can’t do that while the things you did to me haunt me. I only know one way to make that happen. So. These are some of the most difficult words I have ever written, but. I forgive you for abusing my trust and my innocence. I can’t carry around this hatred and resentment anymore, and you don’t have permission to haunt me anymore. You cannot have anymore of my life.

If You Only Knew–Shinedown

Art Journal Page

Finishing this page actually made me tear up some.

Near to You–A Fine Frenzy

This song says everything I never could say to you.

Dear you,

I tried to write this out on paper and I couldn’t get the words to come out right… or even really to come out at all… because it reminded me too much of writing letters to you, and even if I sometimes ended up not sending them because I’d said more than I really intended to, I always started them intending to send them. But although part of me wants you to read this, I don’t think I can write this for you to read. I’ve been struggling with a couple of things that I know must seem contradictory but that I swear are both true.  you make me feel safer than anyone else I know, and when I was with you, I never worried about the things I normally worry about on dates. The things I can’t stop worrying about on dates, while I’m being honest with you. I never once worried that if I didn’t like, didn’t want, or wasn’t ready for something you did, you wouldn’t stop. I never had a reason to, but it’s more than that, because that’s the kind of thing I worry about whether I really have a reason to or not. There are very few men that I feel completely safe around, and you’re one of them. Despite this, I found myself hesitating when you wanted to know things about my relationship with my ex, in part because I had tried to tell you just about everything that I could remember about it before, and even though you’d said you would do your best to be a good listener, you failed miserably, and it hurt. I know you’re sorry that you did that, but it doesn’t make me less hesitant to risk that again.

I recently realized why relaxing while cuddling is so difficult for me, even when I really want to be held. During one of the last conversations I had with my ex, we had been arguing and I had finally decided that I needed to break up with him, and it needed to finally really be over because it was never going to change or get better. I finally realized that if I stayed it would just continue to get worse and worse. So I told him that I couldn’t be with somebody who hurt me and in whom I was afraid to confide. At first he just got angrier but when he couldn’t frighten me into staying, he decided he would change his tactic and he tried to calm me down and hold me. I remember breaking into a cold sweat and my hands shaking uncontrollably. This sudden attempt at gentleness was extremely unlike him and was a thousand times scarier than his anger, which was frightening enough on its own. Even though I crave gentleness, something about it is extremely unsettling to me.

I don’t know if remembering why this happens will make it easier to deal with in the future or not, but I do know that it’s not even worth trying with someone I can’t already trust not to hurt me, which leads me to believe I won’t be dating anyone anytime soon. Plus, honestly, I can’t see myself with anyone but you, and I still believe that you are worth the wait.

Writing exercise

He was the kind of man who could make a woman feel safe and giddy at the same time. His smile was exuberant, stretching too far across his face, as if his body could not contain his joy. He didn’t smile often, except for a near-constant sexy half smirk. It was as though he was all too aware of the power of his real smile. Surely he must have noticed that that smile dazzled everyone around him, leaving women slightly breathless and almost unable to speak.

[This is how I see you. I wonder if you'll ever know it.]

Listening to “Hallelujah” in the middle of the night

“There was a time you let me know what’s real and going on below, but now you never show it to me, do you?”

[I miss being close to you. I don’t think you miss me, so I guess it shouldn’t matter, but it does. I miss you holding me, I miss being able to think out loud in front of you, I miss how safe you make me feel, I miss comfortable silences with you, I miss you being able to practically finish my sentences because you know me so well, I miss your smile, I miss your hands in my hair, I miss how you looked at me like I was the more beautiful woman you’d ever seen. I just miss you.]

“But love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.”

Morning Haiku

I can’t forget the
Way you touched me. Gently,
Like I was precious.

 

Dear you,

You were the first person who made me feel like I was good for something after i was abused for so long by someone who said he loved me. You looked at me like you thought I was beautiful, so I started to believe that I was. You were the first person I really told. I mean I had mentioned it before to Ranna and Eric, but you were the first person who wanted details and who I believed could handle it. But when I told you, you were “appalled that I didn’t talk about it” and thought that I have issues and therefore that I’m not good enough for you. In retrospect, I realize that that really may not have been the reason you decided you weren’t interested in me anymore. It may have just been that you could tell that I was falling for you and you were scared because you weren’t ready for a relationship yet. But you made it about that and that fucking hurt. It STILL hurts, in fact, and I wish that I could have believed you when you said you don’t look down on me because of it, but it feels like you do. And when you touched me, I liked it and wanted it, but my body doesn’t always behave the way I want it to. Even when I want to be touched and held, I can’t always make myself relax, even with you, and I know there’s no way you will hurt me (physically, at least. Emotionally? Well, that’s another story.) It’s the cruelest, most awful thing about being a survivor of sexual abuse, I think—not being able to make my body do what I want it to when it comes to intimacy. And none of that is your fault, and it actually has nothing to do with you, but I wanted you to know.  And even with all of that hurt, I’m still in love with you because no one else has ever made me feel beautiful, and I don’t know how to let it go.

Love,

Me