Countless times I take a moment for myself, sit down in calmness next to a blank paper and a pen. I search through my mind where I should start and how I should begin. I wanted to write something for him.
Trying to get a feel of him and look for his meaning in my life I dig deep into my memories and relive my happiness. Minutes would pass and then hours. Still, and always, just a dot on paper which means that at one point I've found the right words but stopped to search for better ones. After some hours I stop trying and hope to start again another day. But not after I realize why the first try had been futile. I just CAN'T do it for reasons of my own.
For days I try. Do the same ritual of assessing my thoughts grasping for inspiration. Crease my forehead and concentrate harder. Recollect those times when he showed me how much he cared and loved me. Unfortunately, I can only get hold of nothing.
My writing is general and honest and unbiased. It involves everything from how it made me feel and how it affected me. For someone whom I devoted myself to he can't seem to make the words fly out of my mind and onto paper.
This has bothered me for months. I was always quick to hold on to a thought and write unendingly until all about it has been written. I wake up after a good night's sleep and get an idea that results into quite a good read. When I was growing up there were times when I get depressed or sad or lonely and I make really good poems expressing what I felt. In secondary school, when my life was full of confidence, contentment and teenage happiness, I made a poem book and wrote all about it. A project that a friend of mine, who shared my passion, and I had made.
It was always easy for me and required no hard concentration, no rituals, no meditations. All I need is a couple of minutes to get into the groove and then I'll be off writing my thoughts away. And it is still easy for me now. I wrote other stuff, too, while we were together. Why then can't I write about him?
I put all memories of him, years of memories, in a big circle and looked at each and every feelings and emotions. Separated the good and the bad. Weighed the honesty and the deceptions. Swept in one corner the disappointments and disregards, in the other corner the thoughtfulness and unselfishness. I touched on the hurt-aches and pains, opened my heart to the love and care. Looked at the gentleness and emotional cruelty from one to the other.
There were definitely more of good than bad. Lots of happiness than sad. The love and care cannot be forgotten and the happy moments will always be there just like any other memory. He made me let go of my emotional restraints. He changed me from an indifferent and protective (of myself) person to a caring and open soul. I became forgiving and trusting. I began to feel.
But the deception and hurt weighed three times as much. For he had been forgiven again and again. He had vowed that will be the last, that the deception is over but still its the same. I had given my trust and gave him the benefit of the doubt. When he came back, numerous times, I embraced him hoping he realized his mistakes. I didn't judge him from his past but nudge him to be better for his future. He taught me to trust and then he exploited it. He needs, and lies to suit his needs, and doubts if those needs aren't met. He blames others for what he has become and self-righteously ignores what he has done. Paranoia is his thing because he has started what he feared. And the worse thing is.. he comes back. And even worse.. I take him back.
I have the need to thank him for he has changed me. I didn't stop trusting. I am still free. I've learned that its wrong to waste a perfectly good feeling repeatedly when you can have it and make it grow some other time and with someone else. I knew, and he admitted it too, that I wasn't the problem but he is. I could not agree more. He had made quite a big difference, good and bad, and for that I am wiser. I came out of the evil cycle and learned that it will never end until I turn to a different path.
I will never find an inspiration from him. He will not be in my songs or poetry but he'll always be the one who made me step out of my shell. Still I will remember the disappointments to remind me of what will not change and what he will always be until he realizes what he has done wrong. He is but a memory now. He is a time in my life that I have lived and have grown out of.
*** I am sorry. This is how I feel. I hope this explains everything that went on in my head and the weight on my shoulders during the last months. And I hope this time you hear what I have been trying to say.
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