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A lot can change
9 years ago
The ramblings and ingenious philosophizings of a Victorian Otter
So, last I wrote something was in late July and I was so lucky to be in love.
Well, a lot can change in a little bit of time and in my life it has. -sighs- I'm not drawing as much as I would like or as I used to. Unfortunately, things have happened in my life that have altered things. Work has become more demanding, even as it has slowed down. The next year is gearing up to be our biggest year, yet. It will be more corporatized and we will be under a lot more oversight. Essentially, my job has become a job and less the fun, carefree, freewheeling place it used to be. Also, they're hiring more managers. Yay, more authority always solves the problems, right?
We all know how the election went. The less said the better.
And someone I had hoped to share the rest of my life with has decided that they don't love me anymore. Which would be fine but for the fact that I am still very much in love with them. Deeply, madly, truly in love. Nothing sucks more than watching them tell you so matter of factly that they don't have feelings for you anymore. Like saying, "Don't forget the butter" on your way to the grocery store. Ten years of love and pain and sacrifice and all the joys and adventures and laughter and tears and it all boils down to, "I don't feel anything for you, anymore."
Wow.
I had plans for the rest of my life with you and suddenly, goodbye. Goodbye plans, farewell love, arrivaderci everything that ever meant something to us . . . special places, pretty things, suddenly they don't mean as much. At least not to her, to me they're precious reminders of a love I can't have back.
I go to bed every night and silently scream into my pillow because there's nothing I can do about it. Quite honestly, I doubt she ever loved me, despite what she says. I'm sorry, but you don't turn love off so easily. Whatever she might have thought she felt, it was a fondness or a desire to love but it was not truly love. Not "rest of our lives' "I'll love you forever" kind of love. I'm sorry but that doesn't go away in a month or a week.
Love is a garden and you tend it. I've never not been there to water the plants and the tree of our affection. I admit, perhaps I should have fed it more water, and maybe I should have taken better care of the weeds, but I was there. She wasn't and I'm supposed to believe the tree is dead. No. The tree never died. I was just the only one watering and tending it all these years.
She just stopped coming into the garden that's all. It was never our tree, it was always mine. And it will remain my tree, in my garden, with my love. Because you never truly loved me. I don't think you're capable of real love. I'm number three, and I always knew I would be. I'm her third divorce. It's easy to bail out when you're not really in it. Funniest thing is, I thought I was the one with all the contingencies and an escape plan.
Silly me. I was the one left holding the bag.
I'm the one sitting alone in the garden of my love. It's still blooming but there's no point in tending it anymore. I'd be tending it alone as I have been all these years.
I still love her . . . pity she never loved me.
Well, a lot can change in a little bit of time and in my life it has. -sighs- I'm not drawing as much as I would like or as I used to. Unfortunately, things have happened in my life that have altered things. Work has become more demanding, even as it has slowed down. The next year is gearing up to be our biggest year, yet. It will be more corporatized and we will be under a lot more oversight. Essentially, my job has become a job and less the fun, carefree, freewheeling place it used to be. Also, they're hiring more managers. Yay, more authority always solves the problems, right?
We all know how the election went. The less said the better.
And someone I had hoped to share the rest of my life with has decided that they don't love me anymore. Which would be fine but for the fact that I am still very much in love with them. Deeply, madly, truly in love. Nothing sucks more than watching them tell you so matter of factly that they don't have feelings for you anymore. Like saying, "Don't forget the butter" on your way to the grocery store. Ten years of love and pain and sacrifice and all the joys and adventures and laughter and tears and it all boils down to, "I don't feel anything for you, anymore."
Wow.
I had plans for the rest of my life with you and suddenly, goodbye. Goodbye plans, farewell love, arrivaderci everything that ever meant something to us . . . special places, pretty things, suddenly they don't mean as much. At least not to her, to me they're precious reminders of a love I can't have back.
I go to bed every night and silently scream into my pillow because there's nothing I can do about it. Quite honestly, I doubt she ever loved me, despite what she says. I'm sorry, but you don't turn love off so easily. Whatever she might have thought she felt, it was a fondness or a desire to love but it was not truly love. Not "rest of our lives' "I'll love you forever" kind of love. I'm sorry but that doesn't go away in a month or a week.
Love is a garden and you tend it. I've never not been there to water the plants and the tree of our affection. I admit, perhaps I should have fed it more water, and maybe I should have taken better care of the weeds, but I was there. She wasn't and I'm supposed to believe the tree is dead. No. The tree never died. I was just the only one watering and tending it all these years.
She just stopped coming into the garden that's all. It was never our tree, it was always mine. And it will remain my tree, in my garden, with my love. Because you never truly loved me. I don't think you're capable of real love. I'm number three, and I always knew I would be. I'm her third divorce. It's easy to bail out when you're not really in it. Funniest thing is, I thought I was the one with all the contingencies and an escape plan.
Silly me. I was the one left holding the bag.
I'm the one sitting alone in the garden of my love. It's still blooming but there's no point in tending it anymore. I'd be tending it alone as I have been all these years.
I still love her . . . pity she never loved me.
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