I can’t keep myself from wondering just how normally his life is proceeding without me in it; from wondering why it is that he gets to keep what’s important to him, like nothing ever even happened.  He gets to keep love, while mine (or rather, what I foolishly believed to be love) was callously tossed aside and flat-out denied.

I can’t keep myself from wondering why I am the one who cannot move forward, or why I am the one whose world has suddenly collapsed in around her. I didn’t ask for this. I bought into it, yes, but I did not openly invite this in.  The details change – faces, names – but never intentions, or the storyline.   Love is pain, love is useless – a mind game of power and control, and nothing more.

I no longer wish to play.

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