To the man who led me on
Shared by soinessence
It’s ironic that we can be as self-deprecating as we like and still find a way to be the victim in a bad situation. It took me a long time to realise how long I had been denying the truth.
And the truth is, I am not the victim here. I am the perpetrator of my own mistakes.
I walked boldly out onto the dance floor with you and I danced your dance, to a melody that you chose and paced myself to the rhythm that you wanted. But now, the aria has come to a close and my feet no longer remember the steps. When the lights flooded the floor, I looked to you and felt something die.
We were nothing but a blip in disparity as you strode into my life, took more than I could give and walked out again.
And now you apologise?
For what? For trying to know me? For allowing me to place hope into something you never intended to be? For taking advantage of my feelings so that you could appease desires you had no right to feel for me? For walking out of my life as though I was a fool for believing there might be some sort of future?
Stop apologising. I’m tired of hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from you. You did what you did and it’s done now. What will apologising do other than open wounds I’ve worked hard to stitch together?
I’m sorry for playing a game I didn’t know the rules to. I’m sorry for breaking each of those rules in my ignorance.
I yearned for your appraisal. Your affections. Your commitment. But that fire has burnt out and now I’m no longer blinded by smoke but seeing clearly. I feel the coolness of my awakening tingling against my skin. I draw strength from something that isn’t helpless hope but the beauty of reality. I can breathe fresh air rather than choke on your smog.
I once felt as though our song had ended mid crescendo. Now, I realise the sequence was far too long. I will never be fooled by you again. Your interest in my life is nothing more than a hollow attempt to boost your own ego through your seduction of my emotions. You recall your regrets to me now? You are too late.
Take your cardboard coffin of memories, and burn it. Once the smoke clears, I hope you too, realise what it means to love.
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