Did he die or did
I thought it was HIM, the loss felt so intense. Now I know it was me.
I am just a shadow, invisible to the world. No one sees me; I pass through
this world as though Im not there. A ghost. A lost traveller,
on a strange road leading to nowhere.
Left behind on the journey he had implied we would share. All those
familiarities, all the "same old, same old" all gone!
The way he walked. The way he talked. What amused him, and what annoyed
him. His good points. His bad points. They all were HIM, and I loved
him for it. I was happy to take the rough with the smooth.
But to be judged. To be compared. To be found wanting. I didnt
meet HIS needs. I didnt understand him. The words I used, were
NOT the ones he had mentally pre-arranged for me to say. I was a failure,
a disappointment, a promise not delivered. I didnt recognise his
undiscovered genius, or his deeper melancholy side. I ADORED him, but
I had missed the point! I wasnt worshipping the idol of himself,
in quite the manner he desired.
I said too much. I said too little. I was too young. I was too old.
I was too open and I was too closed. I was holding him up! It was ALL
But, I DID understand. He just never knew. The pain of realising he
didnt know. He acted out the drama of our relationship in his
head, and now he had arrived at the final scene. With well-rehearsed
clichés, he took his final bow and left - the stage of my life!
We would still be friends, of course! We would still have contact. HE
understood what I was going through. It had happened to HIM once!
But, he DIDNT understand. The words were right, but the meaning
was all wrong. Back to those well-worn clichés that he loves
so much. What a fool I was, not to notice THAT before.
All torn apart, am I. All confidence, long gone. Wide-eyed and staring,
in an unfamiliar world. Shivering in the cold. Dead, am I. Yet, I still
wake up every morning. I still breathe. But I have nothing to say for
myself. No impression to make. How terrible to know I must be confirming
all his horrible suspicions.
And now, I AM leaving, but it doesnt matter to where. All places
seem the same, home or hotel, city or sea, heaven or hell. I go because
I cannot bear to stay; yet when I arrive its as empty as the last
place. The memories are haunting and the silence is crushing.
I reached out. But he didnt see me. He didnt EVEN look!
He was thinking about him, not US! So pre-occupied was he, and when
he finally turned his attention, it was only to cut and to slice. Didnt
he know? To dissect something still living is to kill it! How our relationship
came under that knife. Was it all planned? Was this the destiny he was
hoping to achieve? Now he wants some novelty, a beginning, perhaps another
victim to cut up. I am too every day, and READY to be sacrificed.
Will he ever be loved again as I loved him? Will he wonder at his loss,
or does he think it gain? For him, it seems, I was just a pleasant interlude
to be thought of as a fond memory. But for me, he was my ALL, and NOW
I am dead and he has moved on
© Lily Brown 2001
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