I think I’ve finally discovered the perfect way to describe my current situation.
My boyfriend and I have been together for a year and a half. And it feels like the entire time we’ve been together, we’ve been pushing and pulling on this door. Said door is between us, always has been. It separates our worlds because Lord knows we certainly aren’t from the same one.
Every time one of us would screw up, it’d try to slam shut, almost as if it had always believed there was no hope and no reason to remain open. But we’re stubborn people. One of us would always stick something in its way, a foot or a hand, and force it back open.
Unfortunately, I feel as if that pattern has finally come to an end. When I asked for him back, he rejected me saying, "I hate this, no matter what I do, someone will get hurt." and when I asked what he meant by that…did he mean that either way one of us would hurt or did he mean that either way, either myself or that slut would hurt…he said that he meant the latter…that he feared hurting me and the skank both. In the course of a night, she’d managed to clear the same amount of ground in his heart that I did in almost two years…my love was nothing…
I think that’s when the door made its move. I wasn’t finished fighting though so I threw my foot in its way and managed to keep it open yet again but only for a few more days. I think it closed the night he took me back…the night she called and he chose her over me for the last time. I was crying, begging him to please just tell her to go away but he didn’t. He talked to her for about 15 minutes…just kept answering her questions because he felt too close to her to just tell her to buzz off. And naturally, when she texted him the next morning, he couldn’t just ignore her. He had to call her back one last time to say that he loved me and could no longer talk to her. But by then, it was already too late.
In my mind, the whole thing was a rather sad affair. I see myself standing in this dark room with my foot stupidly stuck in front of a door while I’m flinging my arms out wildly before me, shoving them through the tiny little crack begging him for attention, please, please just forgive me, I always took you back when you asked, why can’t you just please do this once for me? He’s in a much nicer room, full of light, with his back to me, looking towards her but somehow I manage to catch his attention…and finally, after crying and begging and pleading for what feels like an eternity, he turns to me and grabs my hands. We get closer and closer to each other…as close as we can given our current standing…but then it happens…he hesitates for a second…then turns back because she’s calling to him. And just when he breaks eye contact it happens — the pain becomes too much and I pull back. The door slams shut and I land flat on my ass all alone.
He hears it slam and turns back around while I scramble through the darkness until I can feel the door again. He stands there looking, unable to understand what’s just happened but I understand so I sit at the foot of the door pathetically scratching at it, screaming and crying. And I feel like that’s where we’ve been stuck…he’s still just standing there not really comprehending how resolute that thud was while I’m forever sitting there screaming and crying because I keep hoping I can get through. But who knows if that’s the end or not. Maybe it’s a magical sort of story where something amazing will happen and we’ll be reunited but I feel too depressed to care. It’s hard to see the good when you’re trapped in a dark room alone with your face pressed up against a door.