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1st May 2008
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May. 1st, 2008 | 01:19 am
I've been here before; the landscape familiar, our language taking on that strangeness. How long will this last?
The days dissolve into each other, yesterday no different from today; a slow, sure fade. I am fading too. My thoughts: once clear, coherent, concise, are becoming wild and disconnected. Everyday I think up new excuses for you, each day more ludicrous than the last. Why do I put myself through this hell, this masochistic exercise, this endless, exhausting, torturous cycle? Why can't I just - as most others do - accept the fact and move on? You've said it clearly enough; there is no room for ambiguity in "I don't love you anymore", or is there?
What disgusts me the most is the way you did it: impulsively, thoughtlessly, mercilessly. There was no explanation, no apology, just an irritable, "let's call it quits" at 2:30am. An explanation, however contrive or insincere is an explanation nonetheless. Could you not afford me, your girlfriend of four years, that? Did our time together mean nothing, did our weekend dates and telephone calls and supper buffets not warrant a half-decent conversation?
And I, King of Fools, Idiot of the Universe, refused to believe it, sms-ing you shortly after with a feeble "you're still my best friend, thank you for everything" as if this display of courage would undo everything. And then, when there came no reply, I would email your JC friend asking her to call you, to make sure that you are alright, to take care of you on my behalf.
I ought to be shot.
What am I supposed to do about all this? Pick up the pieces, conjecture what I will about your sudden departure, bitch about you to my friends? Shall I spend hours forming hypotheses (was there someone else? was it because you wanted to be single in uni?), mull over the details and fall over weeping? None of this satisfies me.
I correct myself. What I find most disgusting, most unforgivable and most amazing is your uncanny ability to be totally and utterly disconnected from the whole thing, smiling and laughing heartily in church, telling people of the holidays you now enjoy without me. All this show, this spectacular parade while I was in tears, crumbling under the stress of the exams I had THE VERY NEXT DAY, but crumbling more from the hurt you caused, finding myself once again in the position I am no longer stranger to: grieving over the insane and inexplicable loss of somebody whom I loved more than I ever imaged I could.
Is there no reprieve?
The days dissolve into each other, yesterday no different from today; a slow, sure fade. I am fading too. My thoughts: once clear, coherent, concise, are becoming wild and disconnected. Everyday I think up new excuses for you, each day more ludicrous than the last. Why do I put myself through this hell, this masochistic exercise, this endless, exhausting, torturous cycle? Why can't I just - as most others do - accept the fact and move on? You've said it clearly enough; there is no room for ambiguity in "I don't love you anymore", or is there?
What disgusts me the most is the way you did it: impulsively, thoughtlessly, mercilessly. There was no explanation, no apology, just an irritable, "let's call it quits" at 2:30am. An explanation, however contrive or insincere is an explanation nonetheless. Could you not afford me, your girlfriend of four years, that? Did our time together mean nothing, did our weekend dates and telephone calls and supper buffets not warrant a half-decent conversation?
And I, King of Fools, Idiot of the Universe, refused to believe it, sms-ing you shortly after with a feeble "you're still my best friend, thank you for everything" as if this display of courage would undo everything. And then, when there came no reply, I would email your JC friend asking her to call you, to make sure that you are alright, to take care of you on my behalf.
I ought to be shot.
What am I supposed to do about all this? Pick up the pieces, conjecture what I will about your sudden departure, bitch about you to my friends? Shall I spend hours forming hypotheses (was there someone else? was it because you wanted to be single in uni?), mull over the details and fall over weeping? None of this satisfies me.
I correct myself. What I find most disgusting, most unforgivable and most amazing is your uncanny ability to be totally and utterly disconnected from the whole thing, smiling and laughing heartily in church, telling people of the holidays you now enjoy without me. All this show, this spectacular parade while I was in tears, crumbling under the stress of the exams I had THE VERY NEXT DAY, but crumbling more from the hurt you caused, finding myself once again in the position I am no longer stranger to: grieving over the insane and inexplicable loss of somebody whom I loved more than I ever imaged I could.
Is there no reprieve?