I had imagined it in my head, played it over several times in fact, the moment when I’d let everything out and the response I would get –
That he’d be sorry. Even a meek apology would be fine; I’m not asking for much. An apology, and an understanding, no matter if it’s relayed through silence. At least that much. What I didn’t expect was the fierce resistance – the usual ego, the blaming on others, the irrelevant things that were brought up. Yes, I did imagine some kind of defense, but not to the extent where I was yelling at him to shut up so that he could LISTEN to what I had to say
I’d imagined my words to flow out eloquently, not choked out in between sobs. I’d expected the entire scenario to happen rationally, instead of at the heat of anger
Time and again, I don’t expect much. I don’t have high hopes nor expectations for anything, because things would most likely turn out the complete opposite. Even having a tiny sliver of hope might just doom everything. It’s not good to be this jaded, but this the fact of my reality; it’s like a protective layer that has grown like a web over my skin over the last few years
And it’s like the poison in my blood that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.
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