The question lingers heavy in the air late at night when my mind can’t shut off;
I repeat the answer but you’re just not ready to face it.
Your implications have always been so wounding;
Is it even a surprise?
I found myself at the bottom of a beer can every chance that I got-
And at the receiving end of your blame and resentment with it.
You’ll never be able to face that what happened happened;
We both know it and so in a twisted way it makes sense that you search in every crack and crevice to blame me-
If you can justify blaming me maybe you won’t feel so guilty for not believing me.
But the justification just isn’t there.
And neither are you as I cry myself to sleep nearly every single night and search desperately for a way to feel unviolated.
I stood in the hallway in disbelief as you convinced me it was better to just sleep with you then so it wouldn’t be so awkward;
The kind of thing only a lesser man does.
I’d never felt less connected and so vulnerable at the same time-
But you never cared about my feelings as you screamed drunk obscenities at me;
Adding as many insults to the injury as you could possibly think of with your uncontrollable emotions-
Did I even matter?
I spent months hating you.
Despised you as I vigorously searched for a way to calm an ache in myself that
I knew all too well but could never figure out how to soothe;
I’m still searching for a cure but I know that there will never be one-
Not for what happened.
And not for how you treated me afterwards.
