I think now it seems much more final that 1 month did. It's setting in.... it's over. And although I knew that before, the reality of it is becoming more clear. There's a different kind of sadness and I think the difference now is that I am, at times, angrier at myself than I am at him. This is a big shift and one that I did not see coming. I never felt like I was to blame before. I didn't want to beat myself up, I was kinda too fragile... I didn't deserve to be beaten up. But now I feel my part in what happened.
So much of his behavior was awful. So much of the selfcenteredness and the apathy was not okay. And yet, I acted as though it was okay. I acted as though all of it was normal and I adapted to his behavior in order to make it fit. Well that's not fair. I was not treated the way I should have been and deep down I knew it. I knew he wasn't the kind of partner that I needed, and yet I glossed over it. The warning signs. The miscommunications. I brushed it all away.
When I look back on 3 months ago I see a good deal of change. So much so that I can hardly recognize who I was or the choices I was making. Was I just blinded by love? By commitment? I can't really say. All I know is that I neglected the dull aches of anger and hurt that were telling me something was not right in the pit of my stomach.
And so I feel angry at myself for letting it all happen. I feel like I let myself down. To voice all of it. To be heard.
But I know that's not true. On one cold January night, my voice came burrowing out of me. My body shook as I blurted out the words. That I needed more. That I deserved so much more. And then I left.
So, I didn't buy flowers this time, it wasn't a flowers kinda day....but if I had, I would have bought some lovely white mums. Because, you know, I'm quite lovely.
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