Is this where we are again?? On the receiving end of yet another goodbye? Only this time we held our heart close to our chest and didn’t fall, hell this time our heart was so wrapped up in our love for another that it was merely a distraction and not even a constant at that.
But seriously??? We asked all the right questions. We thought ample time had been set for him to be properly vetted. And still came the lies.
All we have ever asked of anyone we encounter is to treat us with some respect. Is it so hard? Is it so out of the question to ask someone to maintain the integrity of informed consent??
It wasn’t as if we had met the love of our life, but my god, it was nice to spend time with someone. It was nice to be with an age appropriate professional, attractive, successful man that showered us with attention and affection and made us believe that although this man wasn’t the man for our heart, that maybe, just maybe he did exist.
And we didn’t ask for much, just simplicity in honesty, but apparently that was simply too much to ask.
And the fact that we could reach you whenever we wanted, make a call, send a text never lead us to suspect that you had a live in, ready made family that you were using us to temporarily forget.
We didn’t ask for much, but what we got instead was the feeling of being only good enough for you to play house with. That although we made you feel welcome you were busy wiping your feet all over our welcome mat.
And that decent into self doubt began and it was almost impossible to pull us out. You see, we’re still grieving the loss of our heart to someone else. And it was as if we were leaving bits of heart crumbs, not willing to entirely rule you out, but being careful and slow and allowing whatever we felt to be worked out.
So when the realization came that I was just a play thing to you, someone to lay down and milk every creamy white lie from your body as you looked into my eyes, I began to hate myself…and doubt my worth…and hate myself some more.
And how could you possibly know that you picked someone so close to the edge to stab in the back?
And how could you know the impact your deceit would have?
And how did you know that the anger for myself would surpass any anger that I could muster for you, because I have been a lifetime of the woman left behind.
I have been a lifetime of believing in rocking chairs and picket fences, of sunflower fields and amber sunsets…only to be the one sipping whiskey from a solo cup, desperate to forget…
and yes I opened my legs to you because I wanted to, but it was not because I had informed consent.
I didn’t know about your family, if I had you wouldn’t have been welcome in my bed. My whiskey soaked, blood red lips would not have parted with a yes…