I know it's fair. It's more than fair. But it hurts so much that I'm almost blinded to that fact. I pulled myself through the past week with looking forward to this weekend. looking forward to being able to say to her face, "I love you." And mean it, and feel it, and understand it.
This sounds childish, and it is. But goddammit, I'm in pain, and I'm going to vent it till it hurts less.
"Should I bother hoping?" I ask.
"I really don't know," she says.
"I'm sure you'll deal with it well," Lena consoles me.
"I don't want to deal with it!" I reply.
I'd cry, but I'm too nervous. I cried on the phone with her. Is this it? All of this... these years... come down to this painful, bloody, heartwrenching whimper? Where's the art in that? There's beauty in everything- but someone's gonna have to fucking SHOW me it in this.
I've... I've come so far. I can look back now, and see how bad off I was, and how much better I am now. I've almost gotten to the point where I can consistantly be a good person.
BOOM! It's over. Sorry slick, you moved to slow. Shouldn't have waited to do this in person. Should have grabbed her while you were online, shoulda woulda coulda.
I knew this was going to happen to. At one pm today, I fucking KNEW. Brushed it aside as a passing fear. I mean, I knew I wasn't just going to waltz back in. BUT GODDAMMIT!
Take an artists masterwork, and then have the world tell him it's meaningless. Worthless. That his effort, his time, the soul that he puts into the art was wasted. It's unwanted. Passe. It missed it's time.
I'm going to hope! Moreover, I'm going to... what? I'm going to love her.
If she wants to put this all behind us... then it's done. I'll pick myself up, and fix myself fucking again. It's what I do. I'm getting good at it.
"I did it, I climbed Mount Everest! Hurrah!"
"Um.. no... sorry. Mt. Everest is that mountain over there. You missed."