I’m hurt and hurting and thought it was the time to say it. But it’s hidden now. Hidden and private until I find a better way to say it, so when I say it to the pretty, wild eyed girl she might be a better person for it.
It’s not about just trying to be delicate or careful or sensitive. Though I want to recognise thats why I’ve taken back my words, it’s about more that that. I felt ashamed for putting my pain first. Even though I feel someone has done me wrong, something in me isn’t comfortable in one way or another expressing the betrayal and pain I feel.
She’s hurt me more than I’ve hurt her, I think. But I also think perhaps she’s hurting herself for whatever reason and in whatever way, likely more than she can realise. So whatever it is I wanted to say to her, I think I’ll give myself time to see what it is I want to say. To understand it more.
I’m not a big man. I’m sensitive about being sensitive. I’ve never admitted that or wanted to. Whatever. Lately my days are lingering sea swells of hurt and ache. Rejection breeds obsession.
Each of us have this thing in us, she’s not alone. She didn’t get the love she craved as a child, so in her life she wants more, and sets expectations of men that are designed for failure. But I still miss you so much N.W.