Saturday, February 21, 2009

I don't know the difference or the line to draw between standing up for yourself and stooping to someone else's level. I definitely let B.M. have it recently for some of the misdeeds and what I consider abuse, but I didn't say what I keep thinking about now. And that is that I'd much rather be a "lunatic" than treat people the way he does. Also, he tends to paint the reality of our past rather skewed, but even if it was as he thought it was, with me having "no faith" in him (bullshit considering the lengths I went to), even if I once woke him up in the middle of the night to talk (he calls this "screaming and crying") because he swore at me and I had some silly lingering fear from the time he acted out and broke my heart before, even if I should have maybe taken his $1000-drunkenly-purchased-plane-ticket as proof that he was going to treat me the way I told him I needed to be treated instead of looking for proper treatment in actuality--that is but a fragment of what I dealt with concerning the faith he lacked in me, the faithlessness in general (and I mean severe deviance), and the violence of his words. I don't want to ever hear or consider anything else he might have to say so I don't want to tell him this. I don't want to engage with him, but I want it on record. So perhaps by making some public statement, be it by blog or whathaveyou (maybe album sleeve literature?), I am stooping low, but I think I deserve to voice the truth of the matter since over the years I so often defended him and let him twist my thinking to see him in a favorable light. That fact is humiliating enough, and I would really love to take back all the love that many know I had for him at one point in time--I would love to erase that part of what identifies me--but I can't. What I can do is learn from it and speak up about it. Nothing like that will happen again to me. No one will treat me like that, they won't be given the chance to, because I am healing. Maybe someone else will learn from my mistakes, who knows. But here's the record. And so it goes.

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