1/19/2024

The emotions depicted on the screen ignited a memory

Memories I should say, emotions

Her emotions became mine

My heart rate increased as they connected with experiences of my own

I’ve had this fight many times

With many lovers

The most painful were those with the man I loved

With him, I stayed in the argument far longer than I should’ve

I suppose I was hoping he’d find his way to me

Arguments always began with a grievance of something I was doing or not doing

Sometimes focused around work and aspirations

Others around my personal outlets and connections

There was something I was missing

Something I wasn’t doing enough of

I was being greedy

Taking far too much time for myself and my endeavors

No compromise was ever enough

It was never explicitly said

But when every compromise is shut down,

The only option left is my sacrifice

The sacrifice of the things I’ve fought to keep for myself

All of it

The air smelled of contempt

The look on their faces like my mother’s

Expressing their distain of all that I’ve taken from them

I’m not like the woman on the screen

She’s clear and expressive of what I was afraid to say out loud

Of what, if I did try, only immediately took back

He complained of my ever changing schedule

Ever changing plans, transitions, and new goals

As if we shared the same bank of time

Like he didn’t have his own to deplete from

What I did with mine somehow left me forever indebted to him

I was taking his time

There are 24 hours in a day for each and every one of us

What we choose to do with this time is ultimately our choice

Sometimes we are pressured to do with it as others believe

But truly, it is our choice

He had 24 hours like I did

They all had 24 hours

He expressed disgust for his career

I never forced him to stay

But he said he stayed to see me, to finance me

He sacrificed time from his bank to see me

Spent his checks on me

I grew resentful of all of it

I never asked for this

Gifts have never been my love language

I encouraged his dreams as he expressed them

But then I was too pushy

I admit I grew tired of the narrative

His requests for pity became a nuisance

I wanted it to stop

Go, stay, I don’t care! But pick one and leave me out of it

He blamed me for his choices as a father

He always carried shame and guilt about the end of his marriage

At first, she was to blame

Then it was his family

But quickly, I became evil too

I was the reason for his choosing of an incompatible partner

Of his family pressure to marry and stay married

Of his choice to advocate for his happiness

I ruined his life

His generosity allowed him to relinquish responsibility

He eventually protected his son from the evil

Us three in a room confronted his guilt

He was the projector and I the screen

Maybe I made it difficult for him to ignore his truth

He was selfless, sacrificing

Caring only of my happiness

As he simultaneously tore it apart

I didn’t want the transaction

I denied the projection

But somehow I found myself owing this man time from my bank

Over and over he brought it up

Always stating with, “I’m not trying to throw it in your face”

“I’m not keeping tabs”

He did in fact take inventory

What he valued and perceived were subjective

The price of an item assumed, never discussed

I hated the fighting

I hated how I felt

I’m not innocent, I harm others just like anyone does

I’m messy and complicated

As much as I try to be honest and transparent

I find myself in these arguments doubting my honesty

“Could I be wrong?”

I’d reach for affection and express love

His self-pity was too loud to hear me

He’d shut down and I felt rejected

He grew unattractive

I saw he had no accountability, no desire for honesty

No mercy for me as a partner

He’d complain about the little time he had with his son

I’d offer up my time

This compromise wasn’t the answer

It made me cold and uncaring

I needed to understand that he would always be sad about his lack of time

His time was split between him and his son’s mother

And that nothing could be done about his pain

I couldn’t possibly understand because I had so much more time

I couldn’t understand how his helplessness was my doing

I had 24 hours, no more, no less

He denied wanting to try with her again

I begged him to

I sought out couples counseling for them

His happiness and my freedom were my greatest desire

He made it impossible to attain them

Maybe then he could let this unresolved fantasy go

And I could stop being the villain

His son grew attached to me

Maybe he didn’t like this as much as he thought he would

Maybe reality wasn’t as good as the fantasy

Could we please stop having conversations about past choices and wasted time?

We were wasting time having these conversations

I knew it, and I wanted him to know it

We were missing new opportunities and spending hours of our banks for what?

He needed to be a victim and I needed to be the forever remorseful offender?

Was I just meant to serve a sentence for s crime I didn’t commit?

Or was my crime the fact I never married or had children?…

He went back to school and failed the program

It was my fault for pushing for change

He stayed at the department hating the culture

It was my fault for no longer brainstorming options about leaving

He demanded justice

Wanted what he was owed

But I didn’t own what he had lost

It was never about me, it was never with me

He was scared, doubtful of himself

I always knew he was smart and creative

I wasn’t in need of convincing

He expressed having no choice

Being trapped in this dynamic for life

And I was the only good in it

He created this hole

He kept digging as he yelled up at me for choosing not to jump in with him

And maybe, as a partner I should of

But I’ve dug myself out of my fair share of holes to ever voluntarily jump into another not of my own making

He attacked my morals

That I was cold, selfish, heartless

He objected my perspectives

I never compromised and he resented it

But I did compromise, I just didn’t sacrifice…

He had grievances about my personality

Conflicting ones

He loved me for my honesty, but grew annoyed of my desire for transparency

He loved that I cared for others so deeply, yet felt jealous as if my love was a commodity

This scarcity mindset broke us

He picked me because he wanted it

But now couldn’t own it was what he picked

I refused to pity him

To see him as a victim of his own choices

“I refused to rot inside!”

I have been a visitor of all these places

I fought to get out of them

Why was I so evil for refusing to go back?

Life will inevitable take my back, why volunteer?

Was it so wrong to refuse enabling this victim mentality?

Perhaps I was cold

I loved him, truly

He complained about a life that he chose

He expressed generosity and portraited an image of selflessness

But he did these things to claim his innocence

So were they merely generous gestures?

I didn’t need a martyr

I didn’t need him to sacrifice himself

He watched from the sidelines

His expectations and perfectionism held him back

He was scared of his own potential and quit before ever having to risk failing at something

Why was I to blame?

I couldn’t understand the overwhelming feeling then

Sometimes, these discussion would lead to panic attacks

I’d attack myself, destroy myself

Only then would he show mercy

The more he did this, the less I loved him

The less I trusted him

I accept it was my choice to stay

It was familiar to be someone’s punching bag

To be to blame for someone’s unhappiness

Forever cursed to be the villain for simply existing

I’m no longer willing to be the screen someone projects on