When did it all get so bad?
I find myself crying almost every day of recent.
The small but significant hurts you're constantly sending my way,
Are really taking it out of me.
It's not that I am crying for you or for the relationship
(Not that it is even one, anymore).
I am crying for the very giant screw up my love life is.
And thus by extension, my life in general.
And for how I am unable to extricate myself from it.
I feel like a fool.
In fact, I am one.
Foolish, Stupid, Idiotic, Blind.
I wish I could just close the door,
Walk away, not look back.
Cut you out, cut you off.
We can be acquaintances,
At a level where your bullshit doesn't affect me.
You know, your active Tinder profile,
Your chatting with women on there.
You're constant checking out of other women.
And your sudden spells of ignoring me,
When partying with your fuck face friends.
And oh yeah, the blatant lying.
It feels like you only ever tell the real story anymore,
If I already have the facts on hand from another,
Or if I catch you out.
How about your complete and utter disregard for how I see things,
Or how your actions affect, disparage, hurt me?
Cause, you know, that's not how you see it or meant it.
Thus, it's all in my head, and you're just being you.
Whereas I am a doubting ninny,
Throwing tantrums, being dramatic.
I am sad for the devolution of what was once a happy relationship.
Sure, we always knew marriage was off the cards,
But the plan was to be happy, together, and enjoy ourselves.
And there was mutual trust, respect and care,
And effort to think of the other person.
When you told me stuff,
And didn't find excuses to ward me off,
Or lie and prevaricate.
When you actually made an effort for not me, but us.
How can I think those terms are still valid,
When you're flirting on Tinder,
When you don't see anything wrong in being active on a dating site,
'Cause that's just you, alleviating your boredom.
Saying you're just swiping and sometimes talking,
Not meeting or actually sleeping around.
(Oh gee, thanks for the reassurance!)
And when the small gestures of good morning messages,
Or goodnight calls, no longer happen?
At least, not with consistency.
And how can they?
When you have so many "choices"?
Sure I can do the same,
And indeed, am trying to.
De-prioritizing you happened.
Not feeling bad when you don't call and message happened.
Completely cutting off your friends happened.
And now, I have even started talking to others.
Sure, I am taking all those steps.
But it's the little pieces of my heart I feel flaking away,
With each such "adjustment",
That make for an irretrievable loss.
As I recently said to you,
I am tired out and don't even see the point of arguing anymore.
Or calling you out on your crap.
For my concerns and feelings are just dismissed by you.
Apparently, if you don't mean it the way I take it,
Then you're absolved of all responsibility.
Who cares if I am hurting?
Who cares that my friends think I am a fool,
And avoid interacting with you?
Who cares that I am constantly sad,
Alone and lonely,
Even when you're around?
And why should you see it my way?
After all, I turned myself into quite a pretzel,
Giving you my all, and my everything.
My love, my trust, my care, my money even.
It's not at all your fault.
It really and truly is mine,
For being a woman in love.
The small but significant hurts you're constantly sending my way,
Are really taking it out of me.
It's not that I am crying for you or for the relationship
(Not that it is even one, anymore).
I am crying for the very giant screw up my love life is.
And thus by extension, my life in general.
And for how I am unable to extricate myself from it.
I feel like a fool.
In fact, I am one.
Foolish, Stupid, Idiotic, Blind.
I wish I could just close the door,
Walk away, not look back.
Cut you out, cut you off.
We can be acquaintances,
At a level where your bullshit doesn't affect me.
You know, your active Tinder profile,
Your chatting with women on there.
You're constant checking out of other women.
And your sudden spells of ignoring me,
When partying with your fuck face friends.
And oh yeah, the blatant lying.
It feels like you only ever tell the real story anymore,
If I already have the facts on hand from another,
Or if I catch you out.
How about your complete and utter disregard for how I see things,
Or how your actions affect, disparage, hurt me?
Cause, you know, that's not how you see it or meant it.
Thus, it's all in my head, and you're just being you.
Whereas I am a doubting ninny,
Throwing tantrums, being dramatic.
I am sad for the devolution of what was once a happy relationship.
Sure, we always knew marriage was off the cards,
But the plan was to be happy, together, and enjoy ourselves.
And there was mutual trust, respect and care,
And effort to think of the other person.
When you told me stuff,
And didn't find excuses to ward me off,
Or lie and prevaricate.
When you actually made an effort for not me, but us.
How can I think those terms are still valid,
When you're flirting on Tinder,
When you don't see anything wrong in being active on a dating site,
'Cause that's just you, alleviating your boredom.
Saying you're just swiping and sometimes talking,
Not meeting or actually sleeping around.
(Oh gee, thanks for the reassurance!)
And when the small gestures of good morning messages,
Or goodnight calls, no longer happen?
At least, not with consistency.
And how can they?
When you have so many "choices"?
Sure I can do the same,
And indeed, am trying to.
De-prioritizing you happened.
Not feeling bad when you don't call and message happened.
Completely cutting off your friends happened.
And now, I have even started talking to others.
Sure, I am taking all those steps.
But it's the little pieces of my heart I feel flaking away,
With each such "adjustment",
That make for an irretrievable loss.
As I recently said to you,
I am tired out and don't even see the point of arguing anymore.
Or calling you out on your crap.
For my concerns and feelings are just dismissed by you.
Apparently, if you don't mean it the way I take it,
Then you're absolved of all responsibility.
Who cares if I am hurting?
Who cares that my friends think I am a fool,
And avoid interacting with you?
Who cares that I am constantly sad,
Alone and lonely,
Even when you're around?
And why should you see it my way?
After all, I turned myself into quite a pretzel,
Giving you my all, and my everything.
My love, my trust, my care, my money even.
It's not at all your fault.
It really and truly is mine,
For being a woman in love.
