When someone you care about does something really horrible to you it’s a sucky way to feel. When you do something awful to someone you love, it’s impossible to forgive yourself. But I think the worst way you can possibly feel is when someone you care about does something really bad to someone else you really care about especially when you were the catalyst, well, that feeling really tops the rest. It’s the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. It’s regret mixed with hopelessness. It’s humiliation topped off with despair. It’s feeling disloyal no matter who I decide to “side” with because remaining neutral isn’t really an option because it all started with me. It’s feeling responsible for the mess and the broken pieces but feeling incapable of glueing it back together.
Looking back I don’t even know what happened. Where did I turn right when I should have turned left? When did a normal reaction morph into something so toxic? When my jealousy intoxicated me and transformed a night filled with laughter and dancing into rage and tears. It was poison, I was poison. I don’t know the force that pushed me but suddenly my entire world was spinning faster and faster out of control in a messy drunken haze. One minute I was dancing, smiling, throwing my head back in laughter then I was choking on my own tears, sobbing alone in a bar. Then outside random men comforting me as I sobbed harder than I can ever remember sobbing. Why isn’t he here? Why isn’t he comforting me? Why was I so upset in the first place? My head spun as the world turned upside down. “You’re the most horrible person I’ve ever met” I wanted to scream, I don’t know if I’m talking about me or him or both. I’m filled with the most broken and hopeless feeling. I can feel the pain burning inside me. Time moved too fast.
The irony of it all is I’d just spent the evening prior crafting the “perfect blog post” describing how I’m not actually insane. But people who aren’t insane don’t run away dramatically in crowded bars. People who aren’t insane don’t mix jealousy and tequila shots and mainly they don’t sit back and watch two people they care about more than anything destroy each other in the name of her own happiness. I went from normal and happy to jealous and reckless and ridiculous and over the course of an hour I destroyed something important to me. I destroyed something I wanted and I can’t help but wonder what sort of sick, masochistic, self-loathing person would do something like this?
The only thing I know how to do is to beg for forgiveness. The only words I know how to utter are “I’m sorry”. All I can do to keep from crying is throw myself into all consuming attention demanding activities. Adrenaline and endorphins are the only ways to mask this nightmarish blur that’s tinting the whole world gray. There aren’t enough roller-coasters, there aren’t enough sad Taylor Swift songs, there isn’t enough ice cream or champagne or hours to lay crying in bed.I want to be heard but I’m screaming underwater.
I know I’ve ruined everything. There’s no way to eloquently toss together the words necessary to express how guilty I feel and even if I could what difference would it make? All of the “I’m sorry”(s) in the world can’t erase what I did. I cling to a small fragment of hope that salts my wounds as each new moment passes and I realize he isn’t responding, that he probably won’t ever respond. I used to build dreams about him and now it’s all a nightmare. It’s a nightmare but I can’t wake up. It’s a nightmare but it won’t end.
It’s terrifying to imagine the legacy we leave behind is something treacherous, that everything beautiful and magical fades into the background and all you will be remembered for is the madness. It’s knowing he won’t ever look at me like I’m something magical again, it’s knowing that there won’t be sparkles in his eyes, there won’t be middle of the night sleepy kisses, there won’t be nonsensical meows or blanket cocoons.
It’s freaky to realize everything can be lost in a moment. It seems so unjust that months of happiness, magical beautiful moments, feelings of falling in love, all those things can dissipate in the blink of an eye. When you feel like you are grasping something you wanted so badly and it turns to sand right as you reach for it.
I should have known a relationship modeled off of a Fitzgerald classic was bound to end in tragedy. I should have known, but that’s the thing about matters of the heart we don’t listen to reason. We follow our whims until gold things turned tarnished, until every ounce of happiness and magic is wrung out of it.