When You Left

20

11. 11. 13.

        I think I understand now, why you left me.

        The question had been running through my mind constantly and I still haven’t found an exact ah-ha answer. I had a few theories of course; I was too emotional, too attached, we fought all the time, I held you back from your dream. I had even –for a brief moment- had a horrified thought that you had left me for another girl.

        I was stacking books away in the D section, thinking about you and me in the C section, and it just flashed through my mind like a fleeting thought. An image of you meeting a girl at ‘Tranquili-Tea. She would be more beautiful than I -maybe a writer would too. And you would strike up a conversation about how much you love black coffee or about the Robert Frost novel in her hands. And you had a completely forgot about the girl waiting for you at home for a moment. You felt free for the first time in years talking to this beautiful woman.

But, you were raised much too right to consider having an affair. So, you left me that next morning and you wouldn’t tell me why because you knew I would probably have a mental breakdown.

Even the thought of you meeting someone else had my bones quivering and my gut-wrenching. I had to sit down in the middle of the aisle and just breathe for a few minutes. Even writing this now, is making my chest swell.

But, I don’t think you met someone else because I would have known. You had always been a terrible liar –and I know you will deny it- But, you have a tell.

Whenever you lied to me –usually about my choice of outfit or if you liked one of my ideas- you always tilted your head to the side. Just slightly at a 40 degree angle and always to the right.

Most people wouldn’t even be able to tell. But, I did. I was always very intuitive at telling when someone is lying or keeping a secret. And you weren’t. I noticed everything about you, though. Your tell, the way your eyes flashed when you spoke about something you were passionate about. How you would close your eyes for a split second after taking a sip of coffee, even the way you held your phone has been embedded into my brain and I don’t think it will ever leave. I don’t think I want it to.

So, I know that you hadn’t met someone because I would have known as soon as I locked eyes with you. So, it must have been something else, and I think I know.

I think that you simply just stopped loving me.

I wrote in an earlier letter that you had stopped giving me daises and you even stepped on some, and you also stopped asking me if I was okay. It didn’t cross my mind then either, but now I think I know that you fell out of love with me.

And even though that thought makes me nauseous and makes my heart hurt, it isn’t too hard to believe.

Because even though you gave me all of the sunlight that you could give, it didn’t reach through the layers of ice to my lacerated heart. The sun didn’t work for me. It only made me more tan.

I am still just as damaged as I was before, but now your love has torn a whole in my heart that I don’t think it can ever be repaired. Because I didn’t just fall for you. I completely jumped off a cliff, expecting to fall in your waiting arms. And I did for a while, I was loved and protected in your embrace. Until you dropped me off a much steeper cliff.

Because, somewhere in between those two cliffs you realized that I wasn’t fixable. Even though you made me laugh, you made my eyes light up, and my sadness seemed to melt away while in your arms, you couldn’t ignore the fact that I was still haunted by my grief.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that I still had night terrors every night, that I would just stare at a wall for hours, completely numb. That even you couldn’t calm me down from one of my many anxiety attacks. You couldn’t ignore the fact that even though you had saved a part of my soul, that I was unfixable and you couldn’t be my hero.

And I think that that is exactly what you wanted to be. A hero. And at some point you realized that I wasn’t a damsel in distress at all.

You realized that I was the villain.

I wish you never hung up your cape,

Daisy