two hundred twelve

Loving you was some kind of punishment for me, an atonement for some kind of very personal sin. Or maybe, it was a lesson so that I would learn not to be such a dumb ass.

In some ways it reminds me of that song by Howard Jones, "No One Is To Blame."

Except, it was never really clear that you wanted me. Maybe there were moments, small tiny flashes of feeling confident that you felt as much for me as I did for you. But they're lost in the dusky fog of confusion and silence. It's a smog that covers all of the happiness that we shared. To remember something of you, of us, that makes me smile, I have to wipe it clean first and do my best to see it clearly.

And I feel like I'm to blame. But I'm not sure how.

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I chose to give in to love, completely and totally; to give into you absolutely, with the intention of giving love the opportunity of working with my whole heart, my 100% commitment. And I thought it would be awesome. I was running faster than I ever had and was planning to win - but there was no ribbon at the end. Only a feeling of abandonment, of being alone.

"Fool me once, shame on you." 

I was giddy with having a second chance with you to make it work. I knew that I would be better, more loving. That I would be more patient than ever to learn the lessons that our relationship would bring to light. Because our love was sure to endure. We got so close that everything seemed to light up and sparkle around us - and then you snuffed the light by saying that it was over. Again. I felt your words land like strikes on my back and all I wanted to do was turn to you and say, "What sin have I committed?"

"Fool me twice, shame on me." 

I just knew it this time. We would build a castle from the ruins. I believed every word you said, because why would you say them, if you didn't mean them? I didn't know you to be a liar.

But I should have known that you were a mind-changer. If nothing else, my time with you had allowed insecurity to sink in and rot my confidence. The whole experience just ended up being another mansion I wasn't allowed to live in.

"Fool me three times, and I am seriously just a dumb ass."

So it seems I am to blame. Almost 3 years of trying to open myself up to love, only to learn at the end that I haven't even learned how to identify it correctly yet.

Tough lesson.

Hope I don't have to re-learn it anytime ever.

And somehow, I don't even blame you anymore, because why would you love a dumb ass?