"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
He reacts like a statue in the breeze. Unflinching.
I remember the good times we shared--everything he taught me, all the character he built up in me. As racked with pain as I am, I realize that I'll never forget about him as long as I live. But I can never forgive him for what he is doing to me.
He has betrayed me--and my love. I gave my heart to this man, and he told me it wasn't enough. He told me I was flawed, broken, and undesirable--but I felt comfort in his arms, so I stayed.
He has betrayed me--and my love. I gave my heart to this man, and he told me it wasn't enough. He told me I was flawed, broken, and undesirable--but I felt comfort in his arms, so I stayed.
When he hit me, I made excuses. "I shouldn't have provoked him" or "I'm so clumsy". Never seeing it for what it was.
But one day, I looked into his eyes and saw the truth. He didn't love me. He loved that I loved him. As long as I quietly acquiesced to his demands, I was fed, clothed and protected by his strong, loving arms. But in the process, he'd succeeded in making me a fraud--a facsimile. A dull, faded carbon copy where a brilliant color glossy used to be.
So I confronted him. I told him I could no longer permit him to claw deep gashes in my soul. And that brings us to right now--here, on the steps of this brownstone.
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
So I confronted him. I told him I could no longer permit him to claw deep gashes in my soul. And that brings us to right now--here, on the steps of this brownstone.
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
It's a vain attempt to convince myself. My eyes are red, my throat burns and my nose runs. What I am really screaming is much harder to hear--
"I love you, I love you, I love you! Why are you hurting me?"
I could have left so much easier, so much sooner, if I hated. But he taught me to love. He taught me patience, long-suffering, charity, kindness. And I realized that he had none of these feelings for me. Not in his heart. It's funny the principles he taught helped me learn my own value, and how to seek a new, more honest path.
But I still miss him.
I could have left so much easier, so much sooner, if I hated. But he taught me to love. He taught me patience, long-suffering, charity, kindness. And I realized that he had none of these feelings for me. Not in his heart. It's funny the principles he taught helped me learn my own value, and how to seek a new, more honest path.
But I still miss him.
Wow. I wouldn't presume to guess what prompted this or how metaphorical it might be. Are you OK Ezra?
ReplyDeleteEver read Jung's Mysterium Coniunctionis? If not, you might like it. It's a psychoanalytic interpretation of old alchemical texts from the middle ages.
ReplyDeleteRelationships are like chemical reactions. Each one changes us, magically. The bad ones, the ones that don't work for whatever reason, change us as much as the good ones. Eventually your own psyche transforms from dross to gold.
I had my share of bad relationships too. Girls who cheated, stole, took advantage of me, whatever. I'm glad I had them. I wouldn't be the same person had I not. I can only have faith that they got something beneficial from the exchange also (aside from that expensive shirt and my Front 242 CDs that disappeared when she did - LOL!).
What's the context of your post? Did this happen?
ReplyDeleteThis post is an allegory for my relationship with the LDS Church.
ReplyDeleteAh, now I get it.
ReplyDeleteCheck out this post by a woman who compares the Church to an abusive spouse.
I used to feel that the Church didn't appreciate my years of service and devotion. Then one day I realized that the Church doesn't feel anything. It's not a person. It doesn't have feelings.
I certainly understand the sense of rejection you express.
Big hugs.
You've expressed beautifully exactly why it is so hard to be a gay Mormon (or in my case a Mormon gay advocate). If we didn't have this wonderful thing we were raised in, that has always been such an important part of our lives, then the struggle would not be so tough.
ReplyDeleteHm... it appears that it is not so much a struggle with same sex attraction as it is a struggle with desiring true love and acceptance from the church that we love.
This is very powerful. I need to start making a book of my favorite blog posts, especially on this subject.