I seem to have forgotten the last time the word “sorry” held its meaning. I get the feeling that I have exhausted the true essence of it. I say it all the time that it has failed to achieve its purpose on circumstances where apologies are vital. He says save it for the future because he knows there will be a constant arising of situations that would require it.
I’ve always known that my pride has superpowers of its own. For me to say sorry is tougher than a girl with loose morals to try and keep her legs closed. I’ve decided to give myself sort of an overhaul, and am trying fervently to not let my head govern over my heart too much. And now that I’ve come to the realization that apologizing would not send me to an excessive-pride-induced coma and then kill me, it’s not so hard after all to admit I’m at fault.
Erich Segal’s Love Story says, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.’
Is it because loving entails automatically forgiving the other person without the prerequisite of an apology?…or is it because if you love someone, you shouldn’t even be doing anything at all that would need you to say sorry to him/her in the first place?
There came a point in my relationship when I felt like I was skating on thin ice. In total darkness. I didn’t quite know what to do, having been spoilt by him, and then having him say he wants out of the relationship. If it was the non-existence of my appreciation or my taking him for granted, I don’t know. He didn’t get into the specifics. Just that something was making him terribly unhappy. I guess I wasn’t as indispensable as I think I was.
For some time, we seemed to walk around eggshells at home. Having inflicted so much pain upon each other, I think neither one of us wanted to be the first one to leave. We reached the point where the circumstance was so dire, it was going to either make or break us.
When a relationship has come to its breaking point, you don’t need a psychotic xgirlfriend as a catalyst to accelerate the demise of the one thing you hold dear, with the person that you see your future with. I most certainly don’t need her in the picture, begging him to give her a closure that she seemed to need most desperately. She has put him in a pedestal so high, I don’t need her presence in our life reminding him of how underappreciated he is with me. I don’t need her concocting lies to get not only to him, but to his family as well. Apparently, her being conniving is not limited by the moral and social values that people with self-respect and élan go by.
After all has been said and done…after lies have been uncovered and her dirty laundry has been aired, I can only hope that everybody that was dragged into the whole mess she has created smartens up. They say “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” and she is the classic archetype of that. I can just hope and trust that he knows not to let a person like that back into our lives again.
I have no way of knowing though what the future holds for us. I hate to think that trust would always be an issue but at this point, I can only hold on to his promises.
Promises that have been broken already, but I’m far from being perfect, too…so who am I not to forgive?
He wants to start over…so do I. They say you just forgive and forget but there is always a battle between one’s heart and mind.
My heart tells me that there’s no one in the world I’d rather be with so I forgive him. And I hang on to his words blindly not knowing if he’s going to live up to it or not. That’s the risk I have to take. I can either have my heart shattered into a billion pieces again, or I can live happily ever after. If he ends up ripping my chest open, taking my heart out and feeding it to the wolves (again!!), I would’ve lost at least 15 lbs along the way and I can just console myself with the fact that I will probably fit into my size 00 pants again.
But what the heart wants is not necessarily what the head wants. Sure, you’ve forgiven him and the idea of starting over with a clean slate appeals to you so much that you feel like you can practice flying trapeze without a safety net, or a skydiver without a spare parachute.
But then you can’t just reprogram yourself and delete what happened. You cannot magically develop selective amnesia and omit sour memories of how he “cheated” on you. If that was possible, I would be an emotionally stable adult who wouldn’t still want to be Ariel the Little Mermaid having deleted childhood memories when everything was my fault because I was (still am) the ugly one in the family with 2 left feet who dances deader than a zombie.
Relationships are tricky and I can drive myself crazy(er) by thinking about it constantly and have another anxiety attack. I refuse to let my fear of what has happened get in the way of what will happen. I refuse to be paralyzed with the trepidation that he might hurt me so much again. I hold on to my belief that there exists such thing as karma, waiting to get his psycho x like crazy, when her time comes.
I’m tired. And I trust him.
100%…almost. But not quite.
I think we’re going to be okay.
I’ve always known that my pride has superpowers of its own. For me to say sorry is tougher than a girl with loose morals to try and keep her legs closed. I’ve decided to give myself sort of an overhaul, and am trying fervently to not let my head govern over my heart too much. And now that I’ve come to the realization that apologizing would not send me to an excessive-pride-induced coma and then kill me, it’s not so hard after all to admit I’m at fault.
Erich Segal’s Love Story says, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.’
Is it because loving entails automatically forgiving the other person without the prerequisite of an apology?…or is it because if you love someone, you shouldn’t even be doing anything at all that would need you to say sorry to him/her in the first place?
There came a point in my relationship when I felt like I was skating on thin ice. In total darkness. I didn’t quite know what to do, having been spoilt by him, and then having him say he wants out of the relationship. If it was the non-existence of my appreciation or my taking him for granted, I don’t know. He didn’t get into the specifics. Just that something was making him terribly unhappy. I guess I wasn’t as indispensable as I think I was.
For some time, we seemed to walk around eggshells at home. Having inflicted so much pain upon each other, I think neither one of us wanted to be the first one to leave. We reached the point where the circumstance was so dire, it was going to either make or break us.
When a relationship has come to its breaking point, you don’t need a psychotic xgirlfriend as a catalyst to accelerate the demise of the one thing you hold dear, with the person that you see your future with. I most certainly don’t need her in the picture, begging him to give her a closure that she seemed to need most desperately. She has put him in a pedestal so high, I don’t need her presence in our life reminding him of how underappreciated he is with me. I don’t need her concocting lies to get not only to him, but to his family as well. Apparently, her being conniving is not limited by the moral and social values that people with self-respect and élan go by.
After all has been said and done…after lies have been uncovered and her dirty laundry has been aired, I can only hope that everybody that was dragged into the whole mess she has created smartens up. They say “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” and she is the classic archetype of that. I can just hope and trust that he knows not to let a person like that back into our lives again.
I have no way of knowing though what the future holds for us. I hate to think that trust would always be an issue but at this point, I can only hold on to his promises.
Promises that have been broken already, but I’m far from being perfect, too…so who am I not to forgive?
He wants to start over…so do I. They say you just forgive and forget but there is always a battle between one’s heart and mind.
My heart tells me that there’s no one in the world I’d rather be with so I forgive him. And I hang on to his words blindly not knowing if he’s going to live up to it or not. That’s the risk I have to take. I can either have my heart shattered into a billion pieces again, or I can live happily ever after. If he ends up ripping my chest open, taking my heart out and feeding it to the wolves (again!!), I would’ve lost at least 15 lbs along the way and I can just console myself with the fact that I will probably fit into my size 00 pants again.
But what the heart wants is not necessarily what the head wants. Sure, you’ve forgiven him and the idea of starting over with a clean slate appeals to you so much that you feel like you can practice flying trapeze without a safety net, or a skydiver without a spare parachute.
But then you can’t just reprogram yourself and delete what happened. You cannot magically develop selective amnesia and omit sour memories of how he “cheated” on you. If that was possible, I would be an emotionally stable adult who wouldn’t still want to be Ariel the Little Mermaid having deleted childhood memories when everything was my fault because I was (still am) the ugly one in the family with 2 left feet who dances deader than a zombie.
Relationships are tricky and I can drive myself crazy(er) by thinking about it constantly and have another anxiety attack. I refuse to let my fear of what has happened get in the way of what will happen. I refuse to be paralyzed with the trepidation that he might hurt me so much again. I hold on to my belief that there exists such thing as karma, waiting to get his psycho x like crazy, when her time comes.
I’m tired. And I trust him.
100%…almost. But not quite.
I think we’re going to be okay.
He says we’re going to be okay.
