#unconditional love; blind excitement; perfectly impersonal mistakes

[cat-chthesehands]

maybe I'll never get to say it but it's eating me up from the inside. my heart is rotting like an apple, where I barely show the puncture. but a press, a cut, shows the inside is brown and gritty and falling away.

I cannot apologize anymore. I cannot be screamed down again. I did everything I could; I was going to swap the thing you liked, but that wasn't good enough. it wasn't enough to feel bad about it and apologize and remove it from your presence. it wasn't enough to say I had realized how I'd misstepped, say it out loud, apologize again. it was not enough to become small. i could not even say that it hurt me for you to look into my eyes, say you knew I had tried to be kind and heartful, and to then slash me to ribbons as if I had been purposeful.

then you dumped things you had already accepted like garbage into the public rooms. you entered my PRIVATE room and dropped things on the floor just so I would have to encounter them, look at them, and know I was being punished. you almost broke my girlfriend's ( HER room TOO) neck, tripping on the things you were too venomous with anger and hatred for me to even put in the laundry. you screamed at me until I shattered when I begged for a face to face to face conversation over text and when you cut me on purpose again with the accusation that I was only hurt because I was acting entitled to your space. I was never entitled to your space ; it was that you were going out of your way to do the things you k ew would hurt me, to punish me for something you knew was an accident, something you knew I had done from love, something I apologized for profusely. you told me I was cut from your life and your space, and then you came home and helped yourself to my space and my things some more, entitling the comforts and conveniences that come with having me in your space to yourself without so much as asking permission. if I had entered your room while you slept, if I had screamed at you and slammed things and involved YOUR girlfriend in OUR fight, you would call me toxic and say I was violating your boundaries and you would be right. I was the asshole for saying that your purposeful misrepresentation of me was painful, and that was inappropriate because you were being vulnerable, but when I was being vulnerable and telling you my heart was broken because the last three years had been a sham, you told me I was cruel for saying that and had hurt you, but that wasn't you being the asshole.

you have a lot of rules that only apply to me, but it's fine when you do them. I think of you constantly and that is oppressive to you. I buy gifts and am never told do much as thank you, often met with open resentment. i filled my home with your favorite foods so that you didnt have to eat at restaurants and you sobbed that I must think you a glutton. I confessed tens of times how deeply I was in love with you and how I could not imagine my future without you, and you never said the same back.

my enemies were not your enemies, so when I made yours mine it was a violation. I begged to be a team but you barely wanted to be in the same room as me. I forgave your open resentment whenever I would try to conversate with you for months, telling myself it wasn't me, you were just struggling with your health, because when I asked if I was the reason you were upset you only became angrier and raised your voice, demanding I stop making it "about me," only to reveal when you left me that it WAS about me, and I hadn't done enough to assuage your anger. you revealed secrets to me near a decade in the keeping and told me I should have known better, that you shouldn't have had to tell me, while when I came to you with anger or struggle you only said, "did you tell them?" when you couldn't even tell ME.

some seven years this has been. I look back and wonder brokenly if you ever loved me, or if you said it back because I said it first. in the last three years, I can count on one hand the kisses you came to me for, but couldn't count on fingers and toes how many times you have rejected watching something I'm passionate for, after making a point more than once to tell me to just ask for your company and you would give it.

I feel hollow and rotten and ruined and wrung out. I can't leave my room because what if you see me and you're angry again?

I know you won't apologize. you told me to hurt and cry and seethe and that you will not care. I cannot fathom why I was hurt and surprised when I read it. it's nothing new. you won't talk to me when I cry, you've called me manipulative for it. for being fucking sad that you're angry at me. i want to be freed from this pain.

over a stupid fucking calendar.