Before he said anything I didn't really consider the possibility, but since I've been in my room last night and this morning I've been thinking.
I've always hated for anyone to show me pity, to lower their eyes, soften their voice and spread their arms out wide.
I told Ixnay not to show me pity when he broke up with me. After all those insults that he flung at me in his monotone voice, after he told me that I was too weak for him he had the nerve to lower his eyes at me. I looked away from him, bit my lip, took the beating of his harsh words like he probably expected me too, held back the tears (because he couldn't see me cry for the tenth time) and stared at my feet.
He(my bestfriend) made me think about Ixnay again last night. I replayed our breakup. How I mistook his receptiveness as a sign of wanting me back and how I flung my self in the street (figuratively speaking) to fight for him, to have him back. He didn't pull me out of the street, he ran me over like a Mack truck with his indifference. And yet I was the one (as he's said before many times) who didn't seem to care.
Alone with him that last night, he touched my hand, I pulled it back, withdrew myself from him forever, and he cocked his head gave me a hurt look. Had the galls to look sorry for me after he'd ripped my world apart and spat on my last ounce of dignity and pride. He told me it would be ok and not to look so sad.
I think I laughed, brushed him off and told him not to give me his pity because I didn't need it.
But sitting here now, five months later, I don't know. I see myself now low everyone else has seen me. I didn't see it in the mirror yesterday morning, or find it in my milked up coffee last night. I heard it in my bestfriend's voice. The brutal truth, why I attracted him, why he stays.
I'm a wounded animal and I didn't know until last night.
How am I supposed to live knowing that everyone sees me this way?
I don't feel like going out this morning, I'll just curl into a ball and drift off into dreamland.