I like when you’re last words to me are I love you. No matter how complicated we are. And we are very fucking complicated those words give me hope that this isn’t one big lie. That you aren’t playing games when logic and every other fucking instinct says otherwise. I’m trying to believe. I’m trying to trust. You’re actions and behaviour make it difficult. And I have my own life and agenda here. Responsibilities too. It doesn’t always include you.
And I’m fine with that. Would my life be better if you were in it? Maybe. Would my life be worse if you weren’t in it at this point in my life. Negative. I’ve had that. I’ve had you ruin that. I’ve accepted my fate. You will either be in my life or on the outskirts. You will never abandon me completely the same way I will never abandon you the same way.
We just have different ways of reaching the same destination. We always have. The biggest problem is control. You need it and I reject it. I thrive in chaos simply because it’s more fun and the only I ever would have settled down for was you, and you lost that right and option a very very long time ago.
Now it’s up to you to earn my trust, because even after all these years of being civil, after the war has ended. I gave up, I let you win. I needed to for all of us. You can’t deal with the fact that you didn’t really win. And I didn’t really lose. But I still don’t trust you. Years of conversation and I don’t trust you.
And you treat me as disposable. So I become what I am to you. I’m fine with that. I never expected anything better anyways. From anyone.
I’ve always been disposable.
I’ve spent twenty years being disposable. Now that I’m living and doing things for me somehow I have you’re interest. We shall see how things go. But that’s not going to stop me from doing the things that I wasn’t doing until I hit a brick wall and it was time to start fighting. I never imagined it would lead to freedom.
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