auf nimmerweidersehen
Jan. 18th, 2008 02:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notesinbluei'm blue. it's odd, i wasn't that upset when i left court today for once. but the past few hours i've been trying to play a video game to keep my mind off of things and it hasn't worked. not at all. i finally gave up. i think i figured out what's nagging at me, aside from all of the obvious.
today i sat in front of a room full of people and admitted that i'm afraid of the emperor. and that i never want to see him again under any circumstances.
and it's true. ... isn't it? it's true that i don't want him anywhere near me. that i'm fucking terrified of him. even that i was truly frightened walking out of the courthouse that he'd shoot me dead on the steps, even though he doesn't own a gun. i'm more afraid of him than i have been of anyone. he's unstable, cruel, and as emotionally destructive as an A bomb. and i don't want him in my life. at all.
and yet, it makes me sad.
i thought i was done mourning him. i truly did. i haven't missed him in months. i've felt very ready to be free of him. in fact, i've longed for it. but here i am, thinking about never seeing him again, about cutting him totally from my life, and i don't feel relieved or glad. i feel fucking awful. it was the look he had on his face. throughout all of this all i've seen is malice and hatred. but for an instant i saw it: he was hurt. after every thing he has said and done, i finally got to see a glimmer of the man i once loved under all of it. and i think, for a split second, he was sorry.
and it doesn't mean anything.
as soon as i wrote that i just wept stronger and deeper tears than i have in a long time. it was like the ocean pouring out of me for about five minutes. then i got up, blew my nose and dried my tears, pitched the kleenex in the fire and returned to the keys, where i am now, no longer feeling the same sick feeling and instead just feeling tired and somewhat sad.
it doesn't make a difference that he was wounded, or perhaps sorry. it doesn't matter. it's far too late to mean anything. he is no longer a part of my life, and he never will be again.
i've said all of this before, and i've known it for a while, but i think i just finally knew it in my heart today. and it hurts. it hurts to know that the person i loved, wanted to spend my life with, *did* spend twelve years with, is gone. in many ways that man was murdered by the insanity that overtook him. the man i married is dead, and he is never coming back. only the sickness remains. we will never have a tentative conversation in a coffeeshop in a year or so. there won't be a half-smile, then another in return, across a room. we won't talk a bit during a party. and we won't mend our fences very slowly over the years so that one day, many years from now, we are family again.
i feel hollow when i write it all. like maybe, perhaps, there is still a chance. and i hate that i cling to that on some level while the rest of me spends hours on end praying for him to leave the country and never return. i don't know why i would ever even want to have him in my life again, if even for a day. he has been a toxin, slowly killing me, for years. why would i ever want to recapture that? because i want to be loved? because i don't want the past twelve years of my life to be nothing but a horrible mistake? no. it's something else. it's because i don't want that person to be gone.
i loved him for a reason. and i don't want him to be gone forever. no one who loses a loved one wants that. i bet they fantasize about seeing them one day on a crowded street too. except that fantasy is much more obviously just that: a fantasy. my fantasy is more mundane, but just as impossible. the whole thing is exhausting beyond measure. i truly thought i'd be relieved equally beyond measure, and i'm disappointed that instead i feel loss for something that has been gone for a long time. i'm tired of grieving for him. i don't want him back. i suppose part of me just wishes for the power of resurrection because i miss the man he was. even while i hate the man he is.
i hope this is the end of my mourning. i hope this was the last step. it feels like it, but it has before. still, this time it's a bit different. this time i said it outloud. in his presence.
"i never, under any circumstances, want any contact with him again."
today i sat in front of a room full of people and admitted that i'm afraid of the emperor. and that i never want to see him again under any circumstances.
and it's true. ... isn't it? it's true that i don't want him anywhere near me. that i'm fucking terrified of him. even that i was truly frightened walking out of the courthouse that he'd shoot me dead on the steps, even though he doesn't own a gun. i'm more afraid of him than i have been of anyone. he's unstable, cruel, and as emotionally destructive as an A bomb. and i don't want him in my life. at all.
and yet, it makes me sad.
i thought i was done mourning him. i truly did. i haven't missed him in months. i've felt very ready to be free of him. in fact, i've longed for it. but here i am, thinking about never seeing him again, about cutting him totally from my life, and i don't feel relieved or glad. i feel fucking awful. it was the look he had on his face. throughout all of this all i've seen is malice and hatred. but for an instant i saw it: he was hurt. after every thing he has said and done, i finally got to see a glimmer of the man i once loved under all of it. and i think, for a split second, he was sorry.
and it doesn't mean anything.
as soon as i wrote that i just wept stronger and deeper tears than i have in a long time. it was like the ocean pouring out of me for about five minutes. then i got up, blew my nose and dried my tears, pitched the kleenex in the fire and returned to the keys, where i am now, no longer feeling the same sick feeling and instead just feeling tired and somewhat sad.
it doesn't make a difference that he was wounded, or perhaps sorry. it doesn't matter. it's far too late to mean anything. he is no longer a part of my life, and he never will be again.
i've said all of this before, and i've known it for a while, but i think i just finally knew it in my heart today. and it hurts. it hurts to know that the person i loved, wanted to spend my life with, *did* spend twelve years with, is gone. in many ways that man was murdered by the insanity that overtook him. the man i married is dead, and he is never coming back. only the sickness remains. we will never have a tentative conversation in a coffeeshop in a year or so. there won't be a half-smile, then another in return, across a room. we won't talk a bit during a party. and we won't mend our fences very slowly over the years so that one day, many years from now, we are family again.
i feel hollow when i write it all. like maybe, perhaps, there is still a chance. and i hate that i cling to that on some level while the rest of me spends hours on end praying for him to leave the country and never return. i don't know why i would ever even want to have him in my life again, if even for a day. he has been a toxin, slowly killing me, for years. why would i ever want to recapture that? because i want to be loved? because i don't want the past twelve years of my life to be nothing but a horrible mistake? no. it's something else. it's because i don't want that person to be gone.
i loved him for a reason. and i don't want him to be gone forever. no one who loses a loved one wants that. i bet they fantasize about seeing them one day on a crowded street too. except that fantasy is much more obviously just that: a fantasy. my fantasy is more mundane, but just as impossible. the whole thing is exhausting beyond measure. i truly thought i'd be relieved equally beyond measure, and i'm disappointed that instead i feel loss for something that has been gone for a long time. i'm tired of grieving for him. i don't want him back. i suppose part of me just wishes for the power of resurrection because i miss the man he was. even while i hate the man he is.
i hope this is the end of my mourning. i hope this was the last step. it feels like it, but it has before. still, this time it's a bit different. this time i said it outloud. in his presence.
"i never, under any circumstances, want any contact with him again."
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-19 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 10:14 am (UTC)i always believed that if he got help for his mental illness that we might be able to be friends again. but i don't think he ever will. he blames me for his misery, and i don't see that changing. even if he did get healthy i'm not sure if i could ever trust him again, or forgive the things he has done. i just don't know. the sad thing is, i don't think i'll ever have to decide. i find it all very tragic - i would have done anything for him.