2. I know.
I know I have loved and been loved. Wholly. Just for being me.
I know I had given up thinking there was “the one” out there.
No, scratch that. I’ve never believed in “the one.” That’s a LOT of pressure to put on someone else. A lot of expectations and assumptions, and if I know one thing, it’s that expectations and assumptions have a funny way of being different for everyone involved. They’re so obvious to the individual they don’t seem worth mentioning until it’s too late, and too much time has passed, and too much of the hurt has been shoved under the rug.
What I know is that I found the closest thing to my own “one” but it wasn’t enough.
What I know is that I’ve been so. incredibly. lucky. Except I don’t believe in luck. I believe you get what you deserve- you get what you put out into the world. If you want good things to happen to you then you must do good things for other people. It’s not a tit-for-tat, not some tally or score to even out. But if you try to always do good, you will also look for good. And what you look for, you will see.
What I know is: that is only mostly true.
What I know is that you can spend so much time looking for the good that you miss everything else. That sounds great, until you begin to see what you missed and it’s too late to fix the damage. When you begin to see and you realize you wish you’d just called it for what it was- fucked up. Because then you could set a boundary. Then you could draw a line in the sand. Then you could say “no.” Then.
That was then.
Now what I know is this: I cannot continue to allow myself to be dragged into this cycle again and again. I cannot have the same. insane. conversation. again.
I cannot allow myself to become lost, or less. I cannot count on you.
I cannot count on you to remember yesterday’s conversation, or that promise from two years ago. Or the promise from ten years ago. I cannot count on you to do the things that matter the most to me if they are at all hard for you. I cannot count on you to stay rational. I cannot count on you to be PRESENT, even if your body stays in the same room with me.
I CAN count on you to be depressed after you get off the phone with almost any member of your family. I can count on you to stubbornly stand your ground to prove a point, even at the expense of those closest to you. I can count on you to switch, in the most unexpected instant, from exultant to drowning.
I can count on you to bring me a cup of water in the night. And I can count on you to save me from the spider crawling across the wall.
THAT has been the thing which has tied me to you in the darkest moments, that little old spider.
I know that, yes, I have been wholly loved. It has never been by you.