Bad Juju

"This is, honestly, most probably the last relationship I have in me. My fuse is short, and my tongue sharper. Though, you help me in this regard. Keep being you."

"Stop comparing me to your other ex girlfriends. I am not them. I would never do those horrible things to you. I just want you to trust me. And honestly, we're on the same page. I love you, truly."

"You've had the absolute benefit of the doubt since the first day you looked in my direction. Don't fuck me over. I love you too, so much. But I respect myself more. I will not think twice about dipping. I've grown fond of bittersweet goodbyes "

"I understand. But you have to at least give me a little opening, a bit of leeway. I would never hurt you like them. This is probably the last one I have in me too. And I'm yours. All yours, handsome."

I lied. I've thought about if the decision to leave you was the right choice. Second guess myself? Hell, I've scrutinized my awareness, or lack thereof, of your situation like an autistic savant playing four-dimensional chess. The dots I so blindly disregarded. The constellations I refused to acknowledge for the sheer volume of celestial bodies that are visible to the naked eye. Couldn't see the forest for the trees, if you will. All the coulda, woulda, shoulda's.....all of the cheeky comments....the times you'd ask when I was getting home from and work and gave off the subtle vibe that made "preemptively" sound like "longing." The way you took my stresses and cast them out, so eloquent with your sleight if hand that I couldn't see that you were just sweeping them under the rug.

You took my vulnerabilities and loaded each one in the clip, and waited for the day I connected all the dots. Damage control; headshot after headshot. How long did you lie in wait? How long did you know the ending to our sick story? You took the only true insecurity I had, convinced me ever so amicably to let it go......and proceeded to not just take that very course of action, but to adeptly hide it behind this doubt that benefitted you so well. You weren't all the others. You were worse. I kept issues within those of us involved, and did the honest thing most men would never do so as not to bruise their egos or stain their names.....if you were dishonest with me, I'm sure you were dishonest with him, or them, really. I don't think you ever truly understood my opening statement to this new label, this new lifestyle.

With the same hands that once read your curves like braille, the same fingers that plucked such beautiful melodies from those strings on your heart.....I lit a match. The flames from that single match rose, getting hotter and higher until the earth wasn't just scorched, but glassed in one sweep. Such wanton destruction from the very appendages that once built a foundation and healed with the veracity of a religious devout- but in the end; that's really all it was, I've come to discover. I was a boy attached to the idea of who you were, with the latent potential to achieve the greatest of heights together....with a panoramic greater than the sum of it's parts. Ah, to be in love with someone who never existed....it's diabolical. Had you been honest, I may have even been able to learn to suffer past it all; for now I'm left with the feeling that maybe....just maybe.....keeping a piece of you was better than claiming the whole. You were porcelain glued back together so precise, that your hairline cracks only showed under the microscope of careful examination....like the imperfections in 35mm film only found after they were developed. You got me. You got me good. You played the part so well that you stole the audience before the plot was even formed, forcing a nod, not a bow outta me, before exiting stage right. What's a story without half of the starring roles? Stagnant. Dead on arrival.

Even after it all.....I still think you're so beautiful....as beautiful as the crimson dripping from the very blade you so effortlessly shoved into my chest that night. I remember the moon....full, bright, waiting, watching, lighting the way to repose as the roar of my engine gaining ground on the mind that was already racing to an undisclosed finish line. Was the illusion of the life we had together any better than contemplating how far we would actually excel? The ghost of you tells me "good morning" every day. She says "goodnight" and she inches closer and clutches me with every limb, wrapped like a boa constrictor as if I haven't left, yet, pondering the inevitable. I don't hate you. I don't hate them. In fact, I still adore you. Maybe more than I did before, since I've come to terms with who you really are- not who you portrayed yourself to be.

I don't speak ill of you if anyone asked because you were good to me. So good to me. Whether it was projection in an odd, subtle, whisper that sought to feel the natural, light hearted reciprocations of the unconditional.....with that same breath, you outed yourself. We know we're always two city blocks from each other, and I wonder if you've thought about putting this all behind us and picking up where we left off. I know I have. But I can't bring the good and the evil within, the divine and the grotesque, the light and the dark, to reconcile their own differences- much less ours. Thank you for the illusion of true love. It was fun while it lasted. I'll always have the utmost love for you and your son. It is what it is, and it ain't what it ain't. I'm more disappointed in myself for not seeing you as you are, sooner.

I finally understand why you never smile and always look angry. It makes sense. Smiling exposed your skeletons, for the world to see.