i don't want you

"This is what I give you," he says, through a grimace of pain. "I give you this when I have nothing left. I do this. These fights, they're not for me...they're for you. This does nothing for me. This does not help me. I'm doing this for you."

It's a gift that cuts. It's deep and my bones are exposed to the cold so I scream in return. I lash violently. I drag weapons out of reservoirs because I'm losing. I'll never get what I want. Just this stinging evil and the look of pain that accompanies it. All I want is love but I must not know the word because every time I reach for it this happens.

He tells me he gives me this- his sorrow, as though it were something I could cherish and cradle. As though it must be what I want. It's the only thing I seem capable of pulling. It's where all conversation heads. So it must be what I want. It's not just that I'm lost in a thorny hedge-maze. This was my goal all along. Pain. Forever. For everyone.

In a few weeks it will be the anniversary of Isis' death. I found out he invited Stassney over after I left. I don't know if they had sex. I don't know how many times I was in pain and he called her. I don't know how long it took for him to make the call. I don't know why I couldn't have comforted him enough. I haven't given myself the time to grieve.

I want to be that place. The one to comfort. I seem to only be able to go the other direction. Sarah appeared and I never had the time to grieve. He found his reprieve from the pain. So I sent him reminders.

That's when he started saying the long conversations, the "talking me down" were for my benefit only. And it's true. They're placations to ride over whatever immediate wave of emotion I am in, but nothing to create a resolution. It's a gift gilded in resentment. Every time it is given it gets heavier and worse. It leaks all over my hands and floods my senses. There's no more substance to it than an irritation at having to make the gesture. All we both want is love and understanding, but he is a well looking for irrigation else where and I am a dirty sponge that he cannot bear to hold.

I don't want this gift anymore.

Nothing surprises me but that I can't manage to move on. When Stassney appeared again to make another move, hurt another person, I was not surprised. When he allowed it, I was not surprised. When he was angry at my anger, I was not surprised. When he moved on two days later, I was not surprised. Not even when it was to someone of almost the exact same situation. It should have been surprising to see him possibly making the same mistake- but I suppose Stassney is gone now so it won't be exactly the same. I may want him but I would never try to tempt him to cheat.

The only thing that surprises me is the constant fights. I don't know how they begin. I don't see where they end. All I want is love but all I can conjure is the exact opposite. It's the only thing I can't understand. I know that it's my fault. I know there's something I'm doing wrong. There's something in my character that is broken that I cannot be happy for long enough to sustain a day without a fight. A conversation away from his daughter. I want to start over. I want to be new people. I want breathe.

But I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want this gift anymore. I need to find a way away.

He says, as part of his gift, that I need to find happiness in myself. I need to love myself. I can't buy my way into a moment that will make everything okay. And I realize, mournfully, that when I'm not thinking of him, I'm okay.

I say I love you, he says I don't want you.

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