I don’t understand why, what did I do to him that’s so bad that he would take a decision to mess with my heart? I cried myself night after night for him and because of him. One day he was the most loving man ever, we were in sync, the next day, he beating me down with his words, taking throws at my only heart, piercing my soul. I’d have sleepless nights trying to figure out what is it that I’m doing wrong! I’d have migraines wondering what I am doing that make him become so cold. My God! The things he would say to me, he would make my presence so worthless, he would make me feel so useless, unneeded, unimportant, and irrelevant and I should be honoured to be in his life. He treated me like an accessory, now I’m sure we all know we treat accessories, we only take them out when we need them. He treated me like that, when he needed me to do something for him, I wouldn’t have a choice, I had to always be ready, willing and able. Follow his instructions, wait for his summon, no matter where I was, no matter what I was doing it never bothered him; I just had to stop and do what he told. I won’t say I didn’t want to help him; I wanted to, I was willing to do anything for him. I mean anything, jump in front of bus for him. I wanted so badly to show him I would do anything and be anything for him, I wanted him to love me. And the fact that he was never there when I needed him killed me, the promises he made he never kept, how he raised up my hopes just to let them fall flat on the ground, the way he never even apologized for making me cry, he never apologized even when he knew he was wrong, he blamed me. I took it all, the disappearance, the heartless words, the rushed meetings, the arguments that always left me powerless and wounded. I would send him some of my heart felt poetry; I wouldn’t get a thank you, or an acknowledgment (love sonnet 1).
The minute I start expressing the things I’m not happy about or what’s hurting me I was told I’m being rude and I’ve got attitude or I’ve found someone else. How could that be? Well fact is he knew there wasn’t anyone else, he knew he was my world; he knew he could play me like a fiddle and keep me in check. The thing is with women is or should I rather say me, is that I saw the best in him, but he was ready to show me his worst. I saw in him more than just a man, he was my king, my reason, my solitude, my refuge, his arms was my sanctuary, his presence became my safe haven, his voice became my favourite soul beat. Aaaah man, he became my hero, my forever wrapped in a bow, his kisses became my delicacy, and his touches became my shock therapy. How quickly things changed so quickly.
I stayed with him irrespective of how much I was hurting, even though I asked myself why all of the time. I said earlier pain can turn the warmest heart into an ice cold stone. See the more I wanted to be with him, he resisted. The more love I showed, the more my heart was broken, the more love he drained, the more hatred he was filling. The more I cried the more I saw myself drowning, the more I tried, the more I saw myself loosing. The more I looked into his eyes, the more I saw myself fading, the more I yearned for his touch, and it was my life his hand was ending. The more I tried to reason the more I saw it didn’t make sense, the more I tried to convince myself the more I became uncertain, the more dreams I had of him the more my nightmares became a reality. The more I tried to breath him in, the more his presence was choking me, the more I tried to stand next to him the more he towered over me, the more I’d try build trust, the more he demolish my efforts, the more I gave, the more he took away. The more I fought, the more power he gain, the more I spoke, the more my voice he took away, the more I tried to feel, the more I became numb, the more I tried to break free the tighter became his grip on me, the more I was showing I’d never dessert him, he turned his back towards me. The more I tried to convince myself I was happy, the more he showed me this isn’t what I want. The fact is when I was hurting, crying, venting, he was happy somewhere else with some else. I could blame him for everything; I could blame everything on him, but the truth is I also tried to force him to love me, I wanted to believe everything he said, the things he did that didn’t make sense, I made excuses for him. I was so desperate for him to be the one, God know how many times I prayed that he wanted me the way he wanted me. The only we had in common was music, and anything else well I just decided that I don’t have say. I never had an opinion. My dreams never mattered; he was all that was right. So again, it was my fault for putting him so highly on a pedestal, it was my fault I worshiped him. They say love blind a person, when I think back I realize I lost myself, some where I lost my individuality. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized this wasn’t me. I was alone, I had been forced to give up my friends, choose between him and my family, and let down everybody else but him. Eventually love transformed to hate, the arguments became worse, the thought of him would make me want to puke, I really didn’t care if he came to see me, I just wanted him to leave, the sound of his voice made me cringe, the things he did didn’t bother me anymore. Everything he said to me was a lie, every time he said he loved me I didn’t believe him, every time he called I would think twice about answering his calls. Every time he was told me he misses me I wouldn’t be moved. Every time he started accusing, I would just stare and have nothing to say. Every time he was looking for an argument, I would agree with and apologize before he would say anything. I just had nothing to say to him, nor did I want to see him. I acknowledged that he was in my life. I acknowledged that he was my man, I had to pretend that he loves me, but I wouldn’t dare think of finding someone else, I just couldn’t imagine having to start another relationship. Having to learn and understand someone else. All I knew was the pain I was feeling just showed me I’m not crazy, he is real.
The Art of Forgiveness and letting go
Forgiveness: a conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment or vengeance toward a person or group who has harmed you, regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness.
A wise person once said to me, “the first step to forgiving someone understands that the person is complete idiot.” How true is that? I shall quote TD Jakes:
“There are people who can walk away from you. And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you: let them walk.
I don’t want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. I mean hang up the phone. When people can walk away from you let them walk. Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left
People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can’t make them stay.
Let them go.
And it doesn’t mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over. And you’ve got to know when people’s part in your story is over so that you don’t keep trying to raise the dead.
You’ve got to know when it’s dead.
You’ve got to know when it’s over. Let me tell you something. I’ve got the gift of good-bye. It’s the tenth spiritual gift, I believe in good-bye. It’s not that I’m hateful, it’s that I’m faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He’ll give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat I don’t need it. Stop begging people to stay. Let them go!!
And revenge . . . . . . . . LET IT GO!!! “– Pastor TD Jakes
This was the first part of the wakeup call I got. I mean I know this, in the back of my mind I knew I shouldn’t be begging to be noticed. I had become a monster; I was cold hearted, hurt, frustrated, angry and fed up with how I was treated but that was my own fault, who is he? I slept with my hand clutching my heart, hoping it wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning. I slept in a pillow soaked of tears. No matter where I was, I would just burst into tears; my heart couldn’t take it anymore. I woke up drained, tired and I was dying. I just wanted to be alone and nights use to be so long. How can I give him so much power over me? I was ok before him, I was fine, I was happy, and how could I so easily just put so much of my happiness on him? Who does he think he is? How could I let a man push me so far?
My second wake up call, the one that pushed me over the edge was I asked him to take me somewhere, he said ok, but he never showed up, ok well I was use to him saying he would do something and he never did. The next time I saw, I had nothing to say to him, not that I was angry, I just didn’t have anything to say. We had a huge argument, for the first time I saw the monster I fell in love with. The things he said to me, broke me down, the words stung, they felt like daggers, the felt like bullets piercing through me, I felt like I was in a whirlpool of emotions. Every word hit me like a punch to the soul. The way he looked at me, he looked at me like he was disgusted; he looked at me like he saw rubbish. His voice was chilly, ice cold, he kept his voice was poison, and he was draining the life out of me. I looked at him, searching for that man I fell for, I couldn’t find him. I kept asking myself what did I do that was so wrong, what is it that I did to deserve this? My world came crumbling down, I felt humiliated. Mostly I was terrified; he scared me, the rage in his eyes, how his voice hit me like a whip, and how he told me to get out of his car. And when he drove away, I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks, I cried like a baby, my heart beating painfully, I couldn’t talk, I just cried in my best friends arms, I felt so powerless. Felt like my heart was ripped out of my heart. I was shaking; I could only hear the words he said ringing in my ears. Sadly I was sick after that, I was bordering on depression, had anxiety attacks, and my heart couldn’t take all of this, that’s when I knew I had to let go.
Letting go was not easy though, but I wasn’t given much of a choice, the thought of seeing him scared me to death, he didn’t hurt me physically but I would start shaking at the thought of seeing him. I guess in a way I would have much rather him hurt me physically; a physical bruise heals, an emotional bruise is just impossible to heal. See if I knew what it is he is after or what is it that made him turn on me like this but if I could try save him, he would kill me. If I was strong enough to keep living like this I wouldn’t leave him but sadly I am not. That’s a reality I had to face.