| text me love. |
[16 Nov 2007|02:07pm] |
have i made the wrong decision...
it felt so final this afternoon as i trudged up those open stairs. i slowly climbed the steps in my heels on my lunch break, head swimming with memories of races to the door, of kisses on the second flight, and the endless drunken stubles "home" to make comfortable, sloppy love. in my shakey hands i carried the last items that tied us to each other and saw the skimpy few waiting for me at the top of the stairs...
that blank, black garbage bag containing my book, a bra, and a hoodie, sitting, waiting for me to make the switch. i lifted the basket i carried with his jeans, tshirts, halloween costume and power drill up the last step and set on his door stoop.
the bag felt light and slimey, like an empty cold, heart. it was an awful new weight in my hands. it made my mind flash back to last night where his constant calls and texts screamed at me to give back "my shit". i wasnt going to keep it. ok, well, maybe i had thoughts of selling the clothes to platos for pocket money, but i had no real intention of keeping it.
i stood there in a daze staring at one of his pair of ripped jeans, perfectly destructed. i stared hard for something to hate in that basket. something to loathe me into turning my back on that pile of "my shit". nothing came.
all that came was cold, silent pain in the form of wind that was whipping at my hair. pulling at the bag, pushing on my pressed pants. it burned. it fucking frozen burned. i felt sick. i felt my clamy hands grip the bag and open it. inside i saw a two hoodies, not one.
one bright yellow roxy hoodie.
one green champion hoodie.
the green hoodie said it all. he gave back something i said he could keep. something he liked wearing all the time. something he added into his woredrobe. something i had utterly no use for. something he knew i didnt want because it was too big, too plain, too boyish and was bought for workouts. something he knew i would never wear again..
i took it out... he even washed it.
he took his smell off of it.
that, that was when i knew it was over.
this whole time, i thought i made the decision on sunday when i walked out when he was sleeping. when i grabbed everything of mine (so i thought) and left, stelth like out the door carrying a carpet cleaner, dvds, clothes, a toothbrush and little items of mine. when i cried silently to myself, but knew i was making the right decision as he snored away.
but was this my wrong or right decision?? its not a question of was this the right thing to do. i know it was... but was it my choice? was this my break up....
i left him. i ignored all calls, i avoided all texts, i shut myself off for three days. i ran to the bedroom and hid in bed as he buzzed my apartment over and over.
so why does it feel like he chose?
|
|
|
[22 Sep 2006|08:33pm] |
sorry, this journal is now for my eyes only.
<3
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
manjmanj's journal