I'll go on to say I was blindsided, but I saw it all along.
I was your last choice.
Last pick.
A Plan C.
A last resort.
And I lied to you when I "told you the truth"...
because how could I have possibly meant it when I said that I hated you? The possibility, however unlikely, won the day.
And I do.
I do hate you, and everything you said to me, everywhere we went, every picture we took, every moment that became dust in the wind.
Unlike the one who came before you, who was physically unfaithful-- you chose to be mentally unfaithful.
Because with the same lips that told me "I love you" were chatting up another man, "your friend"
and it's sick to me to think of it.
It's sick that it even happened in the first place, that I was even brought into any of it.
I wish I wouldn't have seen those pictures this morning, because the day was looking up till then.
They were thrown out anyways.
But I wasn't the one to throw them out, no-- the person who threw them out did so over the phone in late June.
I wept for the dog last night.
Because I am so emotionally and physically incapable to care for him, but so immensely pained to see your love and will to care for EVEN HIM has faded, his own mommy.
As if he was your plan D, and it's perhaps his time to go too.
Like this is his Obituary, like I'm to blame for not taking him-- Goodbye sweet pokie.
You were my little buddy.
--
Those 15 stitches were mine.
The attempts at my life were mine, you sick woman.
Those were not yours, you have no scars from that.
I was your Plan C.
The boy was your Plan D.
And I'll always wince when my nieces and nephews ask to go outside to play with pokie the bear.
"he's not here anymore"
They have such good memory.
--
You were unfaithful in such a familiar way.
I hope you know, that I don't wish you the best.
-----Because the ends should never justify the means.-----
And I took the brunt of the justified means you forced on us.
You took none of that.
You broke up with me over the phone while my thumbs nervously twiddled a ring in my pocket.
I was your last choice.
Last pick.
Plan C.
The last resort, to which someday soon, you'll read about mine online or in the paper.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTeKpWp8Psw
