Me and R met up the other day. Had a cup of tea. Had some cake. Talked. Laughed. Kissed. It was all rather lovely.
Then, I fell into that oh-so well-known trap of the heartbroken.
I thought things could be different.
Maybe not in the near future, and not quickly or easily, but I thought there was a chance we could work back to how we were.
Foolish, foolish me for thinking that things were even the slightest bit different or that they could be in the future. But in thinking this and subsequently having my stupid ideology subtly crushed into nothing, I’ve only managed to hurt myself all over again.
I remember I tried explaining it to R once, not long after we’d broken up, in terms of a healing wound.
You cut your hand. It hurts and it’s crap, but it begins to heal and new skin forms.
But healing wounds itch. Giving in and scratching them is always tempting, but in the long term, it’s no good. The short term relief of scratching doesn’t seem like such a great idea in hindsight when you realise you’ve undone a weeks-worth of healing for a moment’s indulgence. And everyone knows, itching a cut means it takes longer to heal.
To my beautiful metaphorical insight, R just accused me of comparing her to a scab.
But the other day, I gave in, I itched.
I wanted and I hoped.
…and I was confronted with harsh reality that things haven’t changed. R definitely hasn’t changed. And likely…things won’t ever change. There’s no coming back from it.
|(A bigger version here - possibly my favourite "Softer World" so far)|
But I’ve changed. I can definitely see things more clearly now. More importantly I won’t let myself be used and hurt, and won’t stand to see other people used or hurt either.
Yay for me!
Personal growth and shiz!
(One day I’ll write funny, happy posts again, I promise)