Was it over?
I couldn’t save us. I don’t know what I did wrong. No relationship is only black-and-white. If we look at it realistically, it’s a giant beautiful, tragic rainbow. That’s what I realized later. After we weren’t us anymore, I finally figured out that we aren’t two colors but people. Instead of one dimensional, we are 3D, and if we looked at the problems, they weren’t problems at all, they were strange puzzles with broken pieces. Now that we’re not looking at the jagged edges, I wish we were sitting at the table, trying to glue the pieces together, trying to make sense of it. We don’t make sense as much as I wanted us to, we don’t.
We sat together for 10 years
How is it that two people could sit on armchairs side by side for ten years thinking that things were a certain way. We were wrong. You said I was crazy, broken, angry and mean and the more you told me what I was, I believed it. I said you were mean, thoughtless, someone I didn’t understand. I thought I knew you, and then you were someone different. When I looked at your face, it was sad, drained; something didn’t add up. Why didn’t you tell me how hard you wanted things to work? After it was over, I was sitting in the armchair with worn fabric, and you said you had to go. I sat there wishing you would return. I waited for you, and you didn’t come back. One day, I saw a figure in the distance. I couldn’t tell who it was. It came closer, and then I saw it was you, but you weren’t alone. She was with you, and I knew what that meant. I couldn’t get out of my chair. I felt the tears well up in my eyes.
Things aren’t the same
You told me once you wish that things were different. I’ve thought about us for hours, days and years and I still can’t figure out what happened. I could theorize, say that you wronged me, did something unforgivable, but I can’t speak those words because I forgive you. I’m letting it all go, every single piece of resentment that I held in your face isn’t something I want anymore. I rented a spaceship and took them into a vortex, those pieces of how you hurt me, and I threw them as hard as I could. I don’t hate you. I’ve said some awful things to you. You thought I despised you. I don’t hate you, and I love you.
We sat in the couples counselor’s office, and she said that when we looked at the same mountain peak, you’d say it was blue, and I’d say it was purple. I’ll never forget standing on the street corner holding each other. I wanted things to be different, but I didn’t know what to do to fix it. I couldn’t accept how things weren’t the same yet there was still love between us. I tried to wrap my head around it, but I couldn’t. It didn’t make sense and counseling wasn’t helping. We talked and talked until we didn’t know how to stop talking. We didn’t know what to say to each other. We stopped speaking to each other.
Will you sit with me again? I want that so bad. Yes, I’m angry, but I’m not mad at you I promise. Let’s forget all of this happened and play dominoes. I found a table at a yard sale, and I’m ready now. Things aren’t the same, and that’s okay. We don’t have to yell; we can talk again. I found my voice, and I know what to say to you now, and it’s this: I believe you. It’s going to be okay, whatever “it” is.