I’ve had basically three girlfriends.
The way I look at it I had my proverbial three chances, and in some form or another, fucked each of them up. Now I pay the price with regret. It is completely unhealthy, but I still think of what happened in each situation and dwell on it as if years later that will make any difference or do any good. In a sense, it is a punishment I deserve for being naïve, selfish, or stupid enough to compromise the relationships I had with each.
There are still things I fall asleep dwelling on and wake up uncomfortable about… some of the situations for almost ten years. Even though each situation met an end, I have never been the kind of person that could shake strong feelings I had for someone- friend, girlfriend, even an enemy.
I think what plagues me most are the little things each did that no matter how hard I try I can’t forget… one would put her face in my neck when she hugged me and it was one of the most comfortable feelings ever. One was so nervous when we first met that she had to look away when I smiled at her. The lifelong friend of one told me that I had made her the happiest she had ever been. One would send me letters so that I would think of her in the morning when I got the mail, even though I would see her only hours later. One drove 150 miles to get a record I wanted because I was injured and stuck in the house. One drove 45 minutes in the middle of the night to put flowers at my doorstep so I would see them first thing in the morning. One would walk most of a mile to my house after working her C-shift job to see me for 20 minutes before I had to leave for work. One made sure that every time I saw her friends, one of them would mention how much she liked me, just to make sure I knew.
Every one of those things is another reason that I should just be alone. I feel like I betrayed them. I showed them that even though so much feeling and sincerity was put into something, it was still destined to fail.
I taught them that lesson. And what I taught myself is that no matter how much I convince myself I care for someone, I still possess the capacity to hurt them.
Now I get what I deserve; Burdened by memories too good to be forgotten, but not important enough at the time for me to see their true merit.
People sometimes ask me why I look upset. That is why I fucking look upset. My spirit is crushed, my heart is broken… And I did it to myself; Again and again.