pardon me

It feels sudden. So sudden.

I shouldn't ever look at the pages of history that I tried to tear out of the binding.

Of course you're happy. You're probably happier than you've ever been, let alone than you ever were with me, with whatever we had. What I said to you didn't make it hard to leave me in the dust, did it? Why did I even try to tug at your heartstrings? They were being played be someone else. A stolen instrument. Although, you were never really mine, were you?

Why you? Why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be the one to break me open, reach inside, and throw that precious thing against the wall? It's been dropped. It's been forgotten. But not like this. No remorse, whatsoever. It was encased, new, shining, barely protected. I keep feeling little pangs every once and a while in my chest, and reach in to soothe the thing, twisted and jaded thing that it's become, only to find yet another small shard that was overlooked. Each one I find is smaller, and buried deeper, than the last.

And I know, I know, that what I write now is only stagnant water spilling over the edges. What baffles my feelings the most is that you were honest. I want to be forever angry at you, holding that ugly sentiment close to me for all time, but the left side of my brain keeps reminding me that you, at least, told me. A little late, but you told me.

What also baffles me is this feeling of betrayal. But I shouldn't have to make her choose between friends. Still, it is a seed that's been planted, and I should probably dig it up and throw it in that burning pile of rubble before it grows any faster than it's been growing.

Heart. Heart. Heart. The word on every downbeat of a pulse. The word reminding me that while I try to face this logically and practically, there is still blood flowing through my veins. It boils and rushes to my jawline like magma. It cools down when the eruption of tears ceases, leaving yet another layer of crusted, blackened rock. A volcano of hurt. A mountain of pain.

No matter how much I try to face this with bravado, the sight of you would drive me wild, I think. Wild and teeth bared. All that rock that encases me cracking at my joints, my seams, until the madness breaks through and you see, you FINALLY SEE, how much you've hurt me. How one little message upset the balance of my entire body, inside and out. How an innocent admission turned me on a dime.

Why did I think it was you? And why was it you?

Never mind. I do not need your forgiveness. I do not need your pardon. I need only watch my step from now on. The edge beckons, softly and perversely, from the corners of my mind.

I can't have you, and even, if some miracle occurred that would result in you on my doorstep with the most pleading of looks in your eyes--eyes whose color I can barely remember--I would not have you. If I had my way, I would erase every good memory of you. Oh, and I know that it won't kill me, and yes, it will make me stronger, but in what way? At what cost? Am I losing my hope for love? Am I losing what optimism I had? I feel so cynical. So jaded. Berating myself constantly for letting myself fall and ignoring the pavement that awaited my bones below.

Pardon me, sir, for being in your way. I was merely trying to see what lies ahead, but I guess I shouldn't worry.