The Truth Is That I Miss You, Yeah The Truth Is That I Miss You So

Warning Sign
Coldplay
A Rush Of Blood To The Head

A warning sign, I missed the good part then I realized,
I started looking and the bubble burst. I started looking for excuses.
Come on in, I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in,
I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones, that I started looking for a warning sign.

When the truth is, I miss you.
Yeah the truth is, that I miss you so.

A warning sign, you came back to haunt me and I realized,
you were an island and I passed you by, you were an island to discover.
Come on in, I’ve gotta tell you what state I’m in,
I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones, that I started looking for a warning sign.

When the truth is, I miss you.
Yeah the truth is, that I miss you so.

And I’m tired, I should not have let you go.
So I crawl back into your open arms.
Yes, I crawl back into your open arms.
And I crawl back into your open arms.
Yes, I crawl back into your open arms…
***

I have loved. Oh, how I have loved. I have loved a lifetime’s worth. I have loved with everything I am, everything I have to give. I have sacrificed, I have hurt, I have accepted, I have martyred, I have lost all hope. I loved Steve. The memories are there, of how I felt then, the dreams I had. There was so much then, that I thought was laid out before me, waiting to be grasped. My world, then, was a land of sheer opportunity, and all of the waiting and sitting on a backburner that he made me do would pay off. Oh how I believed that everything was going to come out the way I had always dreamed. He left me. He left me after all we had. He left me after all I had done. My years of self-sacrifice, of devotion, of practical slavery to him and nothing in return. I was so certain for so long that if he would just change his mind and hold me and tell me he loved me that none of it mattered– it was all inconsequential, that his love for me could erase every other pain he gave to me. The depths of how despondant I became are indescribable. My life became sewn-together days of filling every spare moment with distraction: my Neice and Nephew, my drug experimentation, alcohol, a new DVD, shopping, going to the movie theatre, a book. My mind was a scary, unsafe place to live. Suicide was a constant contemplation. The nightmares stayed with me for a long time, and I can’t deny that I have had one or two since. Last time, I didn’t see it coming. By the time I knew it was far too late.

This time, I saw it coming far away, so far away. I armed my battle weapons and prepared to go into the breach, to defend what I had staked my new life on. I love John more than I have ever loved. It has been like watching a slow motion accident, unable to prevent, stop or change it. I’m not addicted to the misery. The misery is addicted to me. I was happy, very happy for quite awhile. And I would happily have had it stay that way. But everything that was done was a belittlement to me, to what I am supposed to become for him. I could get stuck on when he got these photos (and I know what the truth is, no matter what anyone says), and whether or not the offending party knew she’d sent them (which she does, though she denies it), but ultimately that isn’t the point. If I sent naked photos of myself to anyone but him he would drop me in a second. His deceit is not a two-way street. He can’t explain it to me. He can’t. He has no excuse, no answers. He leaves me out on the plank to draw my own conclusions.

I am so confused. I’m so deeply hurt, and angrier than I can bear. But at the same time… I feel empathic, I feel the urge to forgive him, to just let it go so I can go back to my cushy little illusion. And I’m also swayed by what they both say to me, why they work so hard if it isn’t true, why they didn’t make any effort when it was true. So much of me wishes I still lived with my Mom, okay to be alone and single. So much of me is faint of heart that this can be mended. I will say this again: stress is my number one trigger. This is literally KILLING ME. I have an anxiety disorder: hence the ativan. QUIT POKING AND PRODDING MY ACHILLES HEEL! Make this right. Make this right.

K.M.

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~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 06/02/2009.

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