I am married to a wonderful, understanding man. He is not the first person I’ve looked at with a mouthful of forevers.
I am waiting for him to leave because you and he are similar.
You taught me that romantic love was the worst. Everyone I have ever loved has left me.
I am still heartbroken.
There is no closure and I’m suffocating under the rules of this consolation prize.
I took 3 years to scrub the scent of you from my skin and it still wasn’t enough.
Why was panicked pride allowed to control what we were to to each other?
That and your inability to be vulnerable matched with the intensity I poured into us.
I’m terrified to say the wrong thing.
One day I hope, soon, you will call for me and say the shitty things you do and I will walk away.
You didn’t love me as much as you loved your drama. You didn’t love me enough to honour and respect me.
I make these off-limit comparisons because you did.
I now know what it feels like to be in a mutually loving, equal partnership.
For this reason I choose him.
Like you, ‘I will love him when he’s a clear still day; I will love him when he’s a hurricane’. But he will never be you. He is better than you for the simple reason that I can honour him without being punished for it.