"You have no power over me"

People think the hardest bit after a break up is immediately after. The pain and suffering, and everyone clamors round then. Then over time they think: “she's ok”. But it's not the hardest bit.  The hardest bit is coming to terms with just how much you've lost, which takes weeks or months. And worse than that even is watching the person you adored more than anything change; becoming somebody that you used to know. 

To see their behavior change so drastically....or maybe it's not their behavior
that changes, just our perceptions. Because they are no longer someone we love
and cherish-maybe we now see so many behaviors’ that weren’t there before. 


 Right now I'm not sure if I choose to believe that. I know what I saw in the
man I loved. And now what pains me so is how different he is now.  


And I hate him for that. I hate that he has proven right every stereotype
about people who drink. I hate that he continually said how selfish he was
capable of being, and I refused to believe it - showed him in so many ways how
he wasn't...only to be proven wrong time and time again.



I hate to admit that maybe MY judgment was off? That I was so so wrong. 



And I hate to tell you this...but you did become just like my father. Not in
the drinking. But in the selfish, reckless, self destructive behavior. The
crying of "woe is me" only to reject anyone that shows love or
affection.  


I wanted to help you. Maybe in a deluded martyred way, I wanted to "save
you". I can’t do that. Only you can. If you choose to.  



And if you don't that's your loss. Because I trust my judgment. And I saw the
spark of a soul that has the ability to love, and be tender, be creative and
giving. I saw someone who could've set the world alight if he chose to.  


And what do I get in return for my positive judgment and for seeing what could
be there? 



Loneliness, self hatred and a feeling that it was me that was never good enough
or gave enough or loved enough. Because through my pain I was still able to
offer you the glimmer of hope you needed to pull you back from the edge. A
small gesture of things done that are remembered, loved and appreciated. And in
your self-destructive pity you can't even comprehend the idea that maybe I
needed something like that too, or that I needed a friend. Nope. You just
continue worrying about number 1 and just how "fine" you'll be.
You're good at that. And let's face it.  Nobody
else is going to be worrying about you.

I
just hope this time that when I say “I’m
done” and that  – I’m able to stick to that and
truly mean it. Because I need to be able to do that, for my own sanity.