Regarding an ex-girlfriend.
- credit to David Sutcliffe
The most common story I tell myself is that she’s to blame. If she weren’t so fucked up, so afraid of commitment, so entwined with her mother, so out of touch with her anger, so frigid, so narcissistic, and so unable to get past her own shit—we could work it out. The problem with women is women. They’re crazy. They can’t be trusted. And because they can never really see me, they can never love me. This is my MASK.
I want to punish her for not meeting my expectation of how I want to be loved. I want her to suffer; to feel regret about not doing enough to keep me. I relish the “How to Keep a Man” articles on Yahoo that confirm she did everything wrong. I take pleasure in the fact that I know (or think I know) she’s alone, confused and suffering. It’s what she deserves. It’s what she had coming to her. And I will not forgive her. I will not let it go. This is my LOWER SELF.
Underneath there is deep disappointment and pain, a longing to love and be loved and an understanding that she is human; that she is doing her best; that her intention is true; that she wants the same thing I want and is afraid the same way I am. I know that she is good. This is my HIGHER SELF.