Toxic Misfortune

I hated you for how you left. Ten years of friendship down the drain, thrown in the trash, without a single thought, or so it seemed. My head shakes in disgust over how broken you left me. Who does this to people?

I met you on a sunny day in February oddly enough. You walked into our barn like you owned the place and I remember the energy in the open space around us feeling static and chaotic...that should have been my first sign.

I hate you.

I feel numb on the days I let myself think about it. I can't even let myself go near, let alone be inside that old barn where we first met. To do so would make me physically ill, and hell, I can't even go back to the town where it happened, without feeling the stress and hate I still carry over the entire situation.

The place where you stole my heart and then proceeded to smash it, while simultaneously stabbing me profusely in the back, neck, and chest is no longer a destination I care to visit. My wounds were gaping and hot for a long time, death felt imminent and my heart was gone, and you didn't care. I couldn't get up and I didn't know how to live any longer and you didn't care nor did anyone else around me.

The shock over what you had done to me...was a disgusting cycle of abuse, that I had never been aware of until the day you left me for dead. I was your forever best friend, and you were mine, or so I thought, however in all honesty, looking back, that was absurd for me to think.

That was the norm for me though, to give endlessly, to love strong, and to ignore all red flags...ughh, it's enough to make me puke just thinking about it.

The day I met you I did my best to ignore you...I did my best to ignore all men because I didn't trust a single one. You, men, who think you're so superior to and know better than everyone else.

You, men, who take without asking, whenever you feel like it.

You, men, who endlessly objectify the women of this earth, use and abuse us for your desires, then defame and discard us, like useless bits of trash you've never wanted nor needed in your life.

You, men, who think of no one other than yourselves, your penises, the thickness of your wallets, and the things that you have and the things that you can do.

You, men, who can't even begin, to truly understand and implement what it means to honor, to cherish, to move slow, and in appreciation...vomit again.

I don't trust you, nor do I like you, nor will I ever tolerate you again.

I try to remain compassionate. I try to remember that you are just uneducated grown children, who were never shown, nor taught, nor held accountable, for the ways you behave. But the ignorance that life has left you incubating in has destroyed lives and will continue to if people aren't held accountable, and this makes my heart burn with rage and unforgiveness, for the non-priorities, of the people of this planet.

The barn we met in was as disgusting as your behavior, toxic and filled with trash. Some of the trash could have been considered collectible or antique, however, nobody there besides me had enough complacency to even notice it. You all were too interested in showing off and spewing off, egotistical bits 0f information, regarding things that good human beings don't give a damn about. All ego, all pretense.

But there you were and there I was and something inside my dysfunctional make up left me feeling drawn to you. I trusted you for some reason, I only trusted you, which turned out to be the worst mistake of my life.

I was so blind and so desperate to be loved and I hadn't even realized it. I had handed myself over to you like the perfect little birthday cake, ready to be eaten and enjoyed, and appreciated and celebrated. But I had forgotten how appreciation for things like that are so incredibly surface and fleeting, so taken for granted, and so quickly forgotten about, a side bar really.

I would hand myself over to you many more times over the years, beautifully and generously, to the point where you always wanted me... you just didn't care for me. And so now, I'm filled with contempt, for your ignorance and mine because I let you do this to me...I let you destroy me.

That's the thing about love stories I guess, they can only be as aligned as the parents who loved and shared wisdom with you, and neither of those things had ever graced my presence, let alone been abundant in my life growing up. Mine was the life of a lesser Cinderella in a way, keep your mouth shut, do what you're told, or else. Be perfect, or else. And even if you are perfect, we still hate you and think you're worthless and we're gonna make you sure you and everyone else around us knows it...And I wonder why I've surrounded myself with people like this ever since. It became a program. What you've been shown or told your whole life becomes the truth, it becomes the norm, and you don't know any better, until it almost kills you.

You catered to that program inside of me. Delivering the final blow as my father had so many times before you, as all people had before you. Taking all of my good and then betraying me in ways no human would ever want. God I was a soldier.

My insides feel sick, but they are healing.

There's a part of me that wishes I never would have met you on that day in February. The pain was so great.

There's a part of me that wishes I could burn that old barn down, along with all the memories of my past and my memories of you. However, the cycle of abuse never would have been recognized, it would continue, like it already has, for way too long.

I refuse to be a part of our detrimental history, ever again.

Healing and recovering from this hasn't been easy, in fact, it has been the most horrible thing I have ever had to face. The most horrible thing I have ever had to accept. That this has been my life. One of little love and much abuse. So I thank you I guess. For finally waking me up, however brutally.

Namaste.