TB "A bad choice"

Unnamed Girl's Groove: "A bad choice"

// Girl is still traumatized by Brett. 

Sara woke up suddenly, from a nightmare she couldn't remember. She sat on her bed and turned the lights on.  Somehow, a shiver went down her spine as she suspected that something was amiss.. perhaps, the temperature dropped without her noticing. Perhaps Brett was in the flat? She could feel her heart skip a beat and then shook her head. If he had been there, she would have heard him already.  Sara balled her fists around the sheets, holding onto them mind-absently as she dreaded the return of her ex. She could still remember the day he left, his words carved into her bones as they left an everlasting impact on her.  Sara could still remember herself, a mess of tears and spit kneeling on the floor, begging for her soon-to-be ex-fiancé to stay with her. How curious, now that she could remember better, that he had already packed his things when he decided to leave. He made it seem as if it was a spontaneous decision but that little detail, that tiny detail showed that he had planned for it for a while now. "And cover those fucking freckles! You disgust me!"

He had always hated her freckles. Come to think of it, what had this man ever loved about her? Why didn't she realize that he wasn't honest with her? Oh... right, he showered her with compliments when they first started to date. He love-bombed her so much that she was blindsided for the rest of their relationship and forgave every single abuse he subjected her to. She clung to him and to the belief that he could go back to the loving man she once knew. How naive of her to think like that! How naive!.... How D-- why was she crying now? Sara put her fingers on her cheek and realized that she was indeed crying.  Her wet fingers ran down her cheek and to her lips to muffle a sob that threatened to escape them. Tara had broken her heart so badly that she wanted to believe Brett was a good and decent man who genuinely loved her. She didn't think that she could find better and that low self-esteem led her to a miserable path.  She pulled her legs up, her feet now laying flat on the mattress and her sheets-covered knees at chest level. her arms wrapped around the knees and she leaned her head against her knees, hiding her face there so she could sob. 

Her love wasn't cheap but Sara felt like she undersold herself. She acknowledged that her desire to make her own family was so intense, that it blinded her. She had this folly idea that perhaps, if the family she was born into wasn't able to love her for who she was, because she was a supe, or because they couldn't exploit her, then she would make her own. She wanted to be the mother she never had to a child who would be loved unconditionally. She wanted to be the wife of someone who would love her for who she was and would not expect her to mask it. Was it asking too much? Was it being delusional? It did lead her to pick the worst people she could ever find. One was a narcissist bitch whose only concern was to use people around her to her personal satisfaction, and the other was a sadistic asshole whose only desire was to be better than anyone else. Tara broke Sara but ultimately pushed Unnamed Girl to new heights because the more she hurt Sara, the more Sara found refuge in her art. Once free from this relationship, her heart was in shambles, and her popularity was so high that she became a target for Brett. She was ripe for the picking and picking he did.

Unfortunately, unlike Tara, Brett loved to put his hands on Sara. He would always physically assault her whenever he got frustrated, forcing Sara to walk on eggshells with him and to always seek to placate his emotions. She put his needs before hers, she disappeared into her Unnamed Girl persona and suffered in silence for a while. Sara realized just how bad this choice had been for her, leaving her traumatized and suffering from PTSD. She also realized she had way more strength than she gave herself credit for. She resisted him, several times at that. She couldn't suffocate the core of her personality nor could she hide her freckles eternally. She couldn't reject everything that made her who she was for the sake of another because it was what she did with her parents. Sara tried to break free and Brett realized he couldn't mold her to be the perfect doll he wanted. He couldn't break her into the submissive woman who would dedicate her whole life to him. He wasn't the star of the show, she was. She was the megastar and he couldn't shine that light on him. So he left. So he left in the most brutal way possible, ensuring that she would never recover from it.

"I hate you! I hate you!!! I hate you... I hate youuuu...Fuck!!! I hate you!" She yelled into her knees. Her arms held onto her legs tighter and she screamed her frustration and pain into the void. 

She started to shake and ran her hand through her hair. She held her long black locks in her fists and wiped her tears off of her face with the back of her hand.  Things were different now. She was different now. Brett was a thing of the past! He couldn't hurt her now, could he? She was dating another man, one who never made her feel unsafe. He never hurt her nor did he try to make her change for him. He loved Sara and that was the most important for her, wasn't it? Wasn't it? So why was she sobbing?

It's okay

I thought I would have forgotten about you by now. It would have been so much easier for me to just ignore everything that happened between the two of us. Unfortunately, this isn't how life works. I tried to forget you, I really did try hard but I could never pull that off. I don't know, it probably had something to do with you always being in my mind? Whenever I tried to move on, I found myself attracted all over again to you, to your words, to your voice, to your presence. I still remembered how it felt when you were next to me, the electricity in the air, the smiles we exchanged, the warmth of your words, the warmth of our laughter, I was in a dream. 

I was in a dream where you would be there next to me. You would talk to me, cradle me, comfort me and protect me. I was in a dream where you would have been there for me. I know I'm asking a lot, I'm probably asking way too much from you. After all, how can you comfort me, tell me that everything would be alright when you yourself are a mess? It can't be, it can't happen this way. I have to be the person who would pick myself back up and I have to be my own savior. I can't wait for someone to magically fall into my lap and take me away from my misery. With that said, I still think of you.

You're not a savior, not at all. You could have been a companion if you were honest about how you felt and who you really are. I don't want artifices, I don't want pretense, I just want the truth. I want your truth. I see you for who you really are but I am not sure you really want to see yourself in the same light. It's not difficult to understand, but it surely is difficult to live through. I get it. I'm not mad at you for not being ready to see yourself as you truly are. I do have to acknowledge that you never tried to lie about your circumstances. You've always been very clear about what you wanted, what you were going through, and what you didn't want. You have always been very clear about what you were looking for, in me, in us...But you thought you were sly and that we were looking for the same thing but we weren't. I wanted something serious. I wanted something real. I wanted something that mattered. I didn't want to be a sexcapade. I didn't want to be one number on your cell phone. I didn't want to be that sweet and naive conquest you had when you came to my town. I wanted to mean something else, something more. 

But all of this looks so... trivial now. I do dream about you, sometimes. I do read your words again, sometimes. I do feel your presence and your breath and your smiles... sometimes. I surprise myself thinking of the next time we would meet and how I would behave but this time is different. I am not looking forward to being with you anymore. this... I have understood it could never happen. We are not meant to be and it's okay as well. I miss your touch, but it's okay too. I miss your voice and your humming and good mood and your passion.. but it's okay too. I'm honestly trying to find my way through this, move on from where we were. move on from my dire need to be with you. I am fully aware that I deserve better, that if it didn't work out when we met, then it just wouldn't;  We both know it's true. We both know we can't plan on the comet and wish it'll come true and solve our issues. it's not how the world works and it's okay too.

With that said...I am thinking of you. Of your touch, of the kisses we would never share, of the hugs we wouldn't share either -not as much as we could that's for sure-. I think of your laughter and of how much we've been talking over the phone and we won't be doing it anytime soon. It's okay, I have other people to talk to. I don't depend on your calls and I've learned better not to count on you. You weren't there when it was important. people saw, people read. people know. you weren't there and I can't pretend you were. I was deeply hurt and upset that you didn't show up and didn't act half the decent man you were supposed to be. I hold it against you. You being a coward when it actually mattered that you weren't one.  It's who you are, it's okay. I understand. I don't want that in my life, not in a partner, but I understand.

Ultimately, I guess what I was trying to say is that I miss you. I really do. I miss everything that was "us" that happened last year. I miss everything that could have been "us" but would never be. I miss you and I think of you sometimes. I think of your kisses and your hugs and everything glowy and beautiful and bubbly about us but then I remember how dark things could get between the two of us and I remember how complicated our situation is and I remember how you behaved and what I need right now and later on in my life and then it becomes crystal clear that we're not good to each other and we're not meant to be more than friends.....And it's okay.

It's okay.

It really is.