Was it Me?

                        WAS IT ME ?

         It started off so well, so fulfilling and emblazoned with lust, adventure, and an overwhelming joy.  I guess that’s how we all feel when we finally think we have found the one, our lover, our friend, yet how are we supposed to quantify love, the qualities it embodies, the feeling we are meant to experience.  I have asked myself this question often, reflecting on what my parents taught us and watching them pursue a life filled with hope, disappointment, loss, love, and learning.  Yet adulthood comes with a whole new set of ideals, a different perspective on life as we traverse our own path with lush green grass and fragrant flowers or potholes to hinder the flow.

            First, in my experience the heart will beat faster, harder, a throbbing that pulsates in your mouth as the blood is pumped furiously around your mortal being. Your head becomes light, floating over the intricacies of your day and you dream of seeing them again, closing your eyes, a tangible sensation of their touch on your skin.  I thought I had been in love several times in my formative years, only to realise their reality did not match up with mine as we tugged and tore at each other’s sensibilities, demanding we be understood.  Love thyself before I love you back- I still hadn’t learnt from this it seems.  Entangled in the limbs and lust and lascivious luxury of us, I fell head over heels again and again and again. Flowers and fire and frequent moments of ecstatic pleasure, we explored each other’s mind, body and soul, the bedroom, the garden, in forest and fern I unveiled my vulnerability to them to pursue in vain.  

          I hoped he would nurture what I had to offer as I told him tales of lust, loss, and loneliness, but so entrenched was I in the devotion I failed to see the truths embedded in the narrative that was unfolding.  I swiped away the disappointment, the fear I cloaked in hope, the naivety in this lifelong quest for love.  We shared breakfast, dinner, dancing, talking long into the night, telling me of his adoration, like no one you met before.  I experienced your manhood, a woman released of shame, drowning in your obsession for my touch as I fell for you repeatedly.  

          So, when the time came, the revelation was a shock, your total insecurity, your need for clarification, attention and respect, my undivided attention and being the center of my world, but it was never going to be enough. Your ability to alter the course I thought we were on as I slowly pulled at the threads we had woven to reveal the holes that were beginning to show, and your mask began to slip to show the stranger who resided within.  It soon became clear if I was late, or failed to make that phone call, a dinner not given necessary thought, spruced and special for my man to arrive, then a small petulant gargoyle would show at my door, leering at my futile attempts to love.

        Did you not think how that would make me feel, he glowered, your friends are more important than me then I see?

           The snide and sneering remarks passed my sensitive being and clung to the aura I had protected times over, as I attempted to bat them away, determined to win game, set, and match.  He loves me, my life would be so empty without him I tell myself in vain.

          It became clear and obviously too late, the poison has been added to the drip, intravenously flowing through my veins, rushing towards my heart, seeping into my circulation, although the final show was to be several months away, his revealing ceremony, his graduation 2022 that is.

        I realized that I had now found myself dating a petulant child, you never answer the phone he complains, why weren’t you here earlier…… He drinks himself into solitude, reflecting no doubt on my absent devotion, whilst talking to an ex on the phone, then so proud to tell me all about it boasting of his inadequate achievements.  I didn’t do any thinking, reflecting on his speech, I knew we had come to a place I could not tolerate its torment, fighting for a position that was not mine to be fighting for.   I left fast and furious, stuffing belongings into the blackness of the plastic interior the same as I felt was reflected in my heart, detaching the entrance to his lair from my keyring and slamming it on the cold Formica, pushing past him holding my hands out against his protestations. Too Late. 

         He tried to halt my projection, the shock palpable in his inert body silhouetted in the rearview mirror as I drove with tear-soaked eyes to my solace, to myself.  He tried to control the emotion, the outcome in his hands.  It wasn’t easy to leave the passion behind as I frequented his behavior again and again, him reveling in me running back, begging, bleating, hoping for his protection that I thought was keeping me safe.   The heartache wasn’t far away as I’m sure we all know when the time has come culminating in division as it ultimately would. It was a night of conversation of dinner before us that he ranted and raved at my selfishness, my audacity to question his life.  And as I sat and watched from the other side of the table, listening to his fear, I knew the time had come, to mirror the actions I had so readily accepted, as I slid my chair back and walked towards the door.  Turning, meeting the eyes I had so passionately wanted to know of their depths, their insecurities, what lay behind the mask, with sadness I continued a journey of my own…

Narcissism – selfishness, involving a sense of entitlement, lack of empathy and a need for admiration.

         It seems I fell short of the expectation required of me to soothe your resolve, yet I now knew there was no way to love you, as you struggled for my attention and the warmth you so desired. The time had come, the realisation was now mine alone, no more sharing of those hopes as I walked away only to hope one day you would understand.