.memory theft.

(This was originally written June 7 but I forgot to publish)

Chiseled perfection was the mask he wore. The face beneath smiled many times from my dimly lit chambers. He came to my bed when he needed to be himself. I let him inside, my room, my self, my holes. A passionate affair we had. A roller coaster with many ups and downs. His inner child is an angry one, flailing to get his way, pouting and lashing out when he doesn't. I never asked for change. I only asked to be given what I gave: Honesty. Respect. An outlet for the darkness within.

We were exactly what the other needed exactly when it was needed. In hard times he came to me. We built on what was thought to be a strong foundation. Evidence lies around in the ruins. We agreed the end had come, the time to move on was now. He no longer wanted me and I not longer wanted to be collecting dust. It was only fair to both of us that we leave our labor, carry on. We agreed that we both deserved to cherish what we had enjoyed together.
I walked away mourning the loss of something I thought I could always look back at and smile, but feeling good about the decision to end something so wonderful before it became something negative.

Then he tore down the foundation, the building crumbled down. He spat venom, aiming to wound, hoping to cripple. I could ask why but I will never have the answer. If got an honest one, would it make a difference? The shattered remains would remain shattered.

Where once the words flowed freely of happiness, how I made him smile, how we had something wonderful..and how he would never lose that for me no matter what happened.. now words of ridicule and disgust and exponential hate are used as weapons, not a single shred of respect is what emanates. Unwarranted, unexpected, and undeserving.

Perhaps it is what is needed to move on? Perhaps I actually did bring it on myself and I just can't remember how? All speculation, nothing more can be offered. I may not believe that it meant nothing, I have evidence and memory of the contrary. Perhaps that is why there is the desire for vengeance, for hurt. Perhaps it is just his nature. Usually you are not cruel to the ones who gave you pleasure, who were kind to you. I know I've left a lasting mark and maybe that is why he does this. He wants to leave a mark as well.

If only he knew that he already had left his mark in a positive way, these activities would not be necessary. I made sure to show my appreciation, always. In fact, everything he craved that he felt he could not get in life, he came to me for and I gave them willingly.


If I could not have him, I wanted to have his memory. That was all I asked. Do I let him take that away? Is it worth keeping now? If I keep the memory anyway is that a win or a loss?
I don't want to be angry it ended.. I want to be happy it happened. That was never his to take away.