If It’s a Matter of Saying; I’ll Say That I Loved You…

October 9th, 2008

After listening to the same song for what seems like a whole weekend, I’m trying to process what it’s saying without over analyzing it. I do this a lot; I tend to obsess when I listen to something that changes my way of thinking about a situation. And I hate that, I hate the fact that sometimes it takes some random outside force to take over and make me realize something that I should have known all along. And it had to be a love song…

Hmmm, men hate them, women love them, but all in all, we all relate to at least one thing one of these horribly cheesy songs says to us. Love songs are so captivating to me and after listening to this one, it kinda makes me pull a John Cusack, get a boom box and plant myself with it in front of someone’s window with this particular song blasting so loud it would make him mad.

See, my theory is that if you have recently come out of a devastating relationship, you are more than allowed to engage in this kind of nonsensical behavior. And I really loved him, which is the part that sucks because he apparently didn’t. Truth is I still don’t know if he ever did. Sure, he did his share of nice things for me, but doesn’t every man when they feel they’re getting something out of the relationship, I just don’t know what that is or why he even ended the relationship in the first place. I heard so many different excuses that I’m still trying to put all of them together and they still don’t make sense. Not to me, not to anyone. Truth is, I don’t think he even knows why he made the decision in the first place, but I’m kinda glad he did (such a horrible thing to say). I know, I know, bitter words from a bitter heart, but what I’ve realized after all this turmoil is that just because we are right for each other (and it really is disgusting how right for each other we are), it doesn’t mean we are right for each other right now. Which leaves me with a broken heart, but I guess a broken heart is not that bad, especially when it’s been broken before. I guess you develop this natural glue which helps it spontaneously glue itself back together. I just wish everything didn’t remind me of a previous experience I had with this person, but I guess I’ve managed to convert them into bittersweet memories that I can look back and smile, because, I have to admit, it was the best of times.

Three years ago I found myself at the sight of this boy, who I thought the moment I first saw him “he’s mine”. I just knew. It was instantaneous. I’ve heard about this happening to people, but I actually never believed it. Until it happened to me and in the weirdest way, it was fate. And no, it wasn’t love at first sight. I am well aware of the difference between love, lust and fate. And this was definitely fate. But whatever was there in the beginning was no longer there in the end, at least not for him and needles to say he ended it. Funny thing is he always gives me hope, I hate that. But this is what I wish…for now…

If it’s a matter of having to talk to him, I much rather not say anything at all. If it’s a matter of me being capable of something, I’m capable of saying that he deceived me, and the worst part is that I knew and I never said anything. If it’s a matter of insisting, I will steal words away so he can understand that he leaving me was the reprievement I was waiting for. If it’s a matter of me being capable of something, I’m capable of understanding that he didn’t love me, and the worst part is that he knew and he never said anything. Because if it’s a matter of loving we have to love even if we suffer, doesn’t matter what that may be and play with that hope that will never leave and inevitably wait for that fear to leave. That fear of losing it all, losing his bed, of losing my soul, of starting over and letting the flames burn out, and wait for a dream that might never come. It it’s a matter of saying; I’ll say that I loved you.


Until then…

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