there remains/of course - a litany of things that you want to say -- to her/to him.
you want to shout, how you feel like this isn't your fault.
how could it possibly be.
that you own your part of things - but can't they accept their responsibility as well?
[who knew it was possible to feel this lonely. again. already. so soon. your constants, constants/consistently being ripped away from you. you, repeatedly being poked at/reminded that you are, in fact, your only constant]
and didn't you just do this same, sad dance not too long ago?
different partner of course - but the same foreseeable outcome.
is this what happens when you take your stand?
///an a switch in possessive nouns for once///
i remember sitting on that couch- what had become our couch.
promising him. promising myself. that someday. sometime. some moment. i'd have to choose myself. over him. over us.
and i never did. i never could. i was always last. i was flailing/ everyone saw me drowning. but he came first. and i was okay with that.
i know i'm working this shit out with her now. i can't help it. the principles are the same. (aren't they?)