I said good bye to this guy a few days ago. Actually what I said was, “Let's just call this what it seems to have turned into, a friendship.…”
I did it in an an email cause I tried to break it off once before over the phone and I moronically then asked him if he wanted a second chance (I KNOW!!! I KNOW…not my finest moment in the newly learning-to-date world.)
I hit send, then slammed my fist into the table.
Then my head.
And then the stupid fucking tears started
I was so mad at thim.
Why did he not see my value?
Why did he keep stringing me along?
And then I went “Huh.”
as I lifted my head and swiped
at my tears with my hand.
I see my value.
That’s why I sent the email.
I see that as much as a cliché as it is, life is to short to be treated poorly or to try to GET anyone to like me.
And I see that in letting him go
Another will come. I can feel him coming now, like a tug in my gut.
In letting this one go, I opened the door for another one to enter.
I got into my car whistling.
There is beauty in Art’s death.
The beauty is that I am here
Alone, without him
And I see
And the value feels added, like something I didn’t have before.
In this new life, I realize now, it wasn’t having Art that gave me value (like I had thought).
It was who he loved that gave me value.
And he loved me.
All my opinionated, brilliant, sometime off the wall ideas.
He loved my hearty laugh and hated the way I would interrupt him.
He loved how quick I was and how much I appreciated his amazing brilliance.
He loved how when we argued and we would switch sides.
He hated my ability to chill him with just one look
And he loved the way I kissed.
But it was not his love that made me valuable.
It was his acceptance of me that made me see my value.
And now it wasn’t until he was gone,
that I really saw how much he loved me.
Anyway, I’m in my car singing after the head banging and the crying.
And I’m singing loudly and quite well, thank you very much,
Because in his death I discovered my value.
And it feels like value added.