Thank You For Our Dance

As the song causes me to double over in pain

As I write this knowing, I can’t post it yet. As I know, this will go in the draft as my balling and tears could be seen as an attempt to win you back or as a plea to re-kindle what is known to be a loss.

The worst of appreciation of the dance is the reality the song is over. The party has played its last tune. All the beautiful memories are over far too soon.

We all enter every relationship with the hope they will never end. None are supposed to have the end date, and they all seem to.

The line of the song, the dance, “I’m glad I didn’t know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go, our lives are better left to chance, I could’ve missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.” Is so true. I sit here in the pain, the wreckage of what is loss. Not knowing what to do. Quarantine brought an end to me and you an end that was never supposed to be true.

Elijah, my son, doesn’t want hugs from me anymore. I ate breakfast, sitting across from you. It’s over, been that way awhile now and the pain causes me to double here and there, in tears, but you’ll never see it, because your rejection, I don’t want you.

I’m not attracted to those who don’t want me. I promise I’m not. But it hurts me so deeply how so many can say they love me, to tell me later they are not.

I do not change. I know I don’t. I’m the same pain in the ass, pushing the envelope, growing, the exciting person everyone falls in love with. Who they quickly fall out of love with, when they can’t change me or mold me or really, damnit, years later, they still don’t, understand me.

Past partners have become partners, after watching me with others, who they’ve seen so clearly weren’t right for me and wondered why I couldn’t see it too, what do you want from me? The love and respect I gave my son, no one gave me growing up, ever. My mom tried to beat the painful memories out of me, my step-father was far too important and self-absorbed to notice, I was simply the bastard that needed his ass whipped a couple times more.

The first to accept me was a sociopath. She started me along a healing path. Most though who date me swear I’m a monster for not changing into the mold of what they want, become the perfect vision of who they thought I could be.

That’s all you were, so doubling in tears is pointless, you never loved me, you were like all the rest. You simply wanted me to be like whatever vision you wanted, jump when you say jump, smile when you say smile, run as you say run.

Nelly has a song, only just a dream. It describes my whole love life. I begin each relationship with the hope this might be different this one might really let me be simply me, six months later she’s screaming at me why can’t I just try, 🤦🏻‍♂️.

Maybe I should be forever single? I do seem to wreck those I date. I’ve tried every manner of honesty, openness, and still, it has to be me. I’ll keep going to counseling. I’ll keep being cautious. I’ll keep being honest and let the cards fall where they may. Every time I end a relationship, it feels like my partner was such a lie, and inside, a little more of me dies.

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