Bemoan

I hear what you’re saying. Really, I do. Well…more or less, anyways.

I can hear the sound your tongue makes when it hits the roof of your mouth. Your tones, your inflections are loud and clear. Sometimes there’s laughter in your voice. Sometimes it’s stern, but now it’s more irritated. You’ve been going on for awhile now. The words aren’t making any sense. It’s all blah blah blah, fucking blah. Silence. Must be my turn to talk, now.

I say something passive about the weather. The look on your face tells me that’s not what you wanted me to say. I don’t know how this happened. I used to be able to say all the right things. Whatever it was you needed to hear, I had that along with a smile that would let you know it was all going to be ok. But it’s not like that anymore. WE’RE not like that anymore.

Now, it’s like you’re speaking in tongues. I feel like a small child, his mother scolding him in a language he hasn’t yet fully grasped. I can make out the “nos” and some of the more colorful words. You’re going on another one of your tirades while I just get lost in my own head. I think about work, anything at all really, except the things I should be thinking about. Like this conversation. I can’t hang on your every word anymore because it all stopped making sense a long time ago.

It makes me wonder if we really ever got each other. Now all I do is go through the motions, whatever I can do to get myself a little peace, a little quiet. You get so loud.

I think I finally realized what's wrong. I don't want you now. No. I want you then. There's a lot of things about my life I don't remember. Most of the truly traumatic events have been erased from memory. But not you. Not us. Not how it was in the beginning.

I remember how it started, with stolen glances and quiet pleasantries. You were shy, a challenge. That was one thing I always liked about you. Every single inch I got with you was hard fought and meant more to me than anything else I had ever obtained.

Like I said, that was then. Before the most selfless act I ever made was made ugly. Turned into the venom that poisoned the very core of us.

Do you remember that night? When you told me what you had? It was one of the only times you were ever vulnerable with me. It was that exact moment when I knew I loved you. Do you remember what I asked? I asked if you still talked to the guy that gave it to you. Chalk that one up to the frail male ego. You told me no, it was a one night thing and you didn't speak to the guy anymore. I hugged you tight and told you that it wasn't important. That was all in the past. All that mattered is where we went from there. I told you I wasn't going anywhere and we would handle it together. You hugged me back and simply said, "thank you".

I was there for you, like I told you I would be. You were having a rough go of things and I tried to help as much as I could, though I don't think I did much good. But I tried. Flash forward a month or so. I found out I had gotten it, too. We were in your bed one night and you tried to instigate some action, but I told you why I couldn't. You just rolled over on your back and said "that sucks." You also let it slip out that it was your room mate that gave it to you. That brought to light two very important lies at the worst possible moment. I was now scarred for life...and I didn't want it anymore. You've still never asked me if I was ok about it.

The next couple of months were rocky. We weren't the same anymore. We never would be. I wanna go back to before it all went sour. There's a memory that still haunts me. We were laying in your bed, getting ready to go to sleep. That's when you took my face in your hands, looked me in the eyes and said "I love you so much." I still hear those five words every night before I go to sleep.

I think what I miss the most was that it was our problem, you know? It felt like the two of against the world. Nothing could touch me because we were facing it together. Now, it's not our problem anymore. It feels more like my curse.

But I don't blame you for any of it. That's the truth. It just sucks. It shows me just how alone I really am.

I've only tried dating once since you. It ended about how you'd expect. All the feelings she had for me vanished when she found out. I don't want to go through this forever. And that's the thing...whether or not a relationship with me lasts, the consequences of dating me from this point on are forever. It leaves me terrified. I'm scared to death I'm going to be alone forever, that no one else will ever want to take a chance on me. But I'm even more afraid that someone will.

And that's all I really have left to say.