Constantly Misguided

God, I'm angry.  So very angry. I could crush the earth with the strength that swells up in me.  I could scream for decades and never take a breath.  I've become someone I don't recognize. How dare you.  You get to leave me and feel a little sad, a little guilty. I'm left with the anger. The monster.  You abandoned me, and I still defended you.  You're gone and I evaporated. Nothing was holding me together. You let it happen. You saw me breaking, more and more. And kept your eyes away from me.  Ignoring everything I begged for. I pleaded.  I needed you. 

       I feel so misunderstood. How cliche, right? Not feeling heard, not feeling seen, never finding the right words to use for the average person to comprehend what I'm trying to communicate. I try any way I can to express myself. I write my silly little words down. I paint all the pictures. I dance and move my body. I've tried it all. I've learned as many words as I possible can. Did you know the average person can know about 35,000 words? And no amount of infinite combinations can make me feel understood.       That is, until you showed up. You took this chance on me. You saw something in me and wanted to learn more. You took the time to ask me about myself. You took the time to really look at me and see there was more than just surface level fascination.  You pay attention to my little micro expressions like I'm under a microscope. You are trying to understand every atom, every molecule. You want to see them shift and move like it's the ...

I almost lost you the moment we met.  I've been so jaded and numb until this point. Our initial interaction was average. I didn't see it at first. I was letting you slip away. But you saw it. You saw what we were to become. Letting me drift a bit but never very far, you brought be back.  It was simple, Hello. Hello... I'm trying to convince myself this could still work. That was the start. The beginning of our love story. Endless conversations, Constant laughter, The connection I've been yearning for. It's the story you hear about and wish it happened to you. This story was mine. The love story that I've always was envious of, Was mine. This beautiful man was mine. He was someone I wanted to experience everything with, I want him by my side through it all. 

 I don't even know what to write. I'm reading all this happy bullshit I wrote when we started talking and it's so positive and beautiful and there is so much hope in that version of me that wrote those things. But then there is this version: Cynical and harsh and angry. My chest is burning. You became so important to me in such a short amount of time. But here we are at the end of our very short story. I really thought it would last. I really thought it was going to work this time. My friends were so hopeful. They have seen me at my absolute lowest. When I got cheated on over and over again. When I was able to get away from some of the psychos I've dated. When my ex got arrested for strangling me. They have seen me in the dirt fighting for my life. And time and time again they have seen me pick myself up and try again. And again. And again. And again.  I'm gonna be crying myself to sleep again tonight. A familiar feeling, almost nostalgic. After every single bad rel...