The closer I draw to it, the faster my heart thrums.
I’ve gone around to different events, and bars, campsites, landmarks, music festivals where I got to hang out with different people, meeting and drinking and frolicking with people I knew I would never see again.
I danced the pain away in every state I visited, whether it was sunshine or rain; cried at night when I was alone, perused through the pictures Lincoln and I took together when our life was happy, before he threw everything away that we worked so hard to keep.
People always say that there’s nothing more painful than the current thing they’re experiencing pain from. But really and truly, one of the worst pains has to be loving someone so deeply and realizing they never loved you the same. Of them promising themselves to you only for you to discover that you’ve been violated, that someone else had been in your bed or with your partner while you were also with them.
Of course I got myself tested, just in case. I wouldn’t put it past that bitch Sarah having slept with different people raw. I keep wondering whether or not Lincoln slept with her raw.
He didn’t have a condom on when I saw him, but they weren’t also in the middle of having sex. But how many times had they done it?
How many times while Lincoln was smiling in my face had he been fucking Sarah behind my back?
How much of a fool did I look to Lincoln as he fucked me, thinking he got away with it another day?
Lincoln had called me about 96 times, leaving about every kind of voice message he could, about how sorry he was and how he fucked up and how he hopes I would be happy.
The dude went through all the stages of grief: from groveling and begging, to sadness, to anger, to blaming me, only for him to call back right away and apologize for blaming me… and then the calls fell off.
I left every single one of his text messages on read.
I read several of them over and over, the ones where he said:
Yur truly the best thing that ever happened to me.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I’m losing my mind.
I’m so sorrytyr.
I keep going over how I cud hve ruined the best thing the only thing that ever mattered to me the most in this world
His other garbled text messages came with many grammatical errors:
**I luv you.
Please pick uop.
Baby?
Im so sorry. I know you dont love me anymir or forgiv ore have to forvig me. please.
Js tlk to me.**
Sometimes reading his texts made me cry. Sometimes I would just listen to his messages where he did nothing but cry when I didn’t pick up, his tears saying what his voice couldn’t.
And yes, I still love him. But I’m not giving in.
All the hurt he’s feeling right now is of his own doing.
He chose this for himself.
I didn’t.
I never wanted this.
Whatever he does, whatever he chooses to do, or how he chooses to live his life, that’s what he gets.
