Rejection Hurts
He knew it all along.
I did not.
He pretended to be on the same page — when he was desperate…
I didn’t quite see through the artifice, as he once called it.
He said I was transparent — what you see is what you get.
And he was not, so.
All cryptic.
But I thought he was different.
Where did that thought come from?
Imagination.
Pure imagination based on certain behavior of his,
which led me to believe he was otherwise.
And there were times he expressed a lot — but again, only when he was desperate.
So, it didn’t tell the whole truth.
Not really.
And yet, I am the one now whose circumstances prohibit.
And yet, it wouldn’t have to be so prohibited if he could stretch himself.
But why do we think others can extend themselves in ways that are difficult for them when we ourselves cannot do that? (That would be a Byron Katie-ism I picked up along the way.)
