I’m sad today.
You looked me dead in the eye and told me so many times that you were sober. There, in the same room, celebrating something we might have had, but never will, you told me it was all a lie.
It made me sad that the promises, the hope for tomorrow, the start of a family, all of the love and warmth were flushed away by lies and manipulation and a dark veil that kept you from seeing what was at stake.
I’m sad that you doubt I ever loved you. I’m sad you don’t understand the place I had to reach before I walked away.
I’m sad that while you were living in a fog, I experienced every piece of it fully, vividly and wholly.
I’m sad you don’t see how much of me was lost and how hard I fought to find me again. I’m sad that you don’t see that the vulnerable innocent piece of me is gone. I’m sad that there is a tough exterior there now because if you could do that to me, someone else can too.
I’m sad that you can’t see what losing us did to me.