Love letter # 97

Sometimes I feel like blaming you. Sometimes I wish I felt nothing. That would be a whole lot easier.

None of this is what I think – it’s how I feel. In my polite, well ordered mind this is all perfectly ordinary break up stuff. You started off liking me and then something changed and you didn’t. I tried to get you back but I failed. Nothing new, nothing original about any that. Ho-hum really.

Yet in my blood coloured heart it ain’t anything like that. It’s still raw, a wound still bleeding; with all the irrational, hyper-emotional drama that goes with it. I’m almost ashamed to admit it.

Partly, I want to hurt you back – anything to draw a response. Even though I know this is utterly ridiculous, I still find myself wanting it. It’s an incredibly humbling experience. I feel thoroughly undermined. The reasonable and relatively well balanced person I once prided myself on being has left the building. He dissolved in your embrace. Or maybe he was an illusion…waiting to be shattered.

But y’know what? So what.

None of that matters. More stupid theories that change nothing. The only way this is going to change is if I stop. So that’s what I’m proposing. An end. A full stop.