A promise is a promise

The phone rings and just like that you rip through my life once more. All of a sudden your sorrows are my sorrows, your sadness is my concern, your wellbeing left no longer to the fates, but to the nimble numbness that my nature has taken on to deal with your mess.

It is not fair. It is not reasonable to expect me to be there for the bad, but shut me out of the good. It is not fair that I am your go-to girl in a crisis, but your nothing in normality. It is not right that you rely on me. It is not admirable that I allow it.

My love for you is the source of both my strength and my darkest, most twisted weakness. None who know me, who know me so well, can fathom why I allow this. Why the mere breath of your name makes me responsible for you. What they don’t know, what they can never comprehend is the truth spoken from one pure heart to another.

You knew me when I was still pure, untouched by your hand of pain and hurt and anguish that broke me to the point of irreparable harm. And in that pureness of my young, clean soul I vowed to love you unconditionally, come what may. Well, come it did, that which may, and damn you if the only part of me still left intact can relinquish herself from that treacherous promise. Love you, I should not. We both know that. But love you, I do. You abuse that.

Damn you for loving me back too. Damn you for being able to walk away when we both know it is not safe out there for you. The simple truth I have been hiding for a decade now is that you need me. You are in desperate need of saving and you know it. No longer is my love about satisfaction, fulfilment, happiness. Oh no! My love now has to be about self-sacrifice and self-loathing for my own inability to wash my hands of it all.

I don’t want to be your saviour. I want to be your lover and your friend and the reason your heart beats, but I do not want to be your saviour. I know I will be fine without it, I will be capable of love and trust and finding a life that does not include you. I live it every day.

But promises broken are tricky things. They guilt me into pretending that life without you is no life at all. They force me to feel like a failure for not saving you when you don’t even want to be saved. How naively eager I am to bend down at the alter of destruction when you say my name. How can you do this to me? How do you continue to elude my fantasies yet fuel my nightmares? How do you live with yourself?

I do not want to love you in the real world where all you do is break my heart. I want to love you in my dreams where you are still the man I know you to be. How did you get it so wrong? Why did you place your trust in a world undeserving of it? When did you begin to forget to love me back? You tear through my soul with every teardrop falling from my eyes as they gaze into the abyss of a love so mighty it can forgive all, but so insignificant to you that you will push it aside for the sake of a cheap thrill.

I am trying here. I am trying so hard, but you are not making it easy. You are not helping. I stand here in front of our love and all that has come to pass between us, everything we have somehow made it through and I am distraught. I am pushed down to my knees in agony and I am begging you: Don’t make me break my promise. Don’t let this be the last memory I have of being an unaffected heart…

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