So I have managed to learn or at least pay first witness to what happens when you leap off from your own pedestal and then get kicked while you're down.
What it means to try even harder but still too late.
There is no going back, there is no retraction of words nor actions and there is not a single feeling left unsaid. It's utterly painful to confess your everything and not get what you hoped would happen in return but it is overwhelmingly lifting to know you did try.
The more I look at it and understand, the more I see that I cannot control everything.
Words happen. Actions don't. Love is a choice. And walking away is a must.
Where in my mind do I honestly believe if I just said one more thing, or the same thing differently, it would change everything?
Why have I clung to this notion for years and years? Right now, it's probably the saddest thing I have ever done to myself.
I am not cupid nor am I a unicorn. I am not put on this earth to fix you. And I am certainly not doing any favours to anyone by pretending I am it all and can do it all. I flat out cannot.
There are many cringe-worthy moments I wish I could take back, retract from all existence or take to my grave with not another soul knowing. But they are both my downfalls off the pedestal and the steps back up.
Fuck you for thinking I was on a pedestal in the first place. No one person is to blame, however if you had never said that I wouldn't have fallen so fucking fast and far off the thing.
Okay that may sound like a lot of resentment... I don't resent you as a person. I resent my thinking that you would be there to catch my fall after so blatantly saying I needed to get off the pedestal.
I expected too much. I put all my eggs in one basket and all that happened was that they became scrambled with my brain as the basket case.
Where in my mind do I realize that everything is as it should be and I don't have to meddle or specifically change for anyone? It's that little section of my brain that has been shunned to the back. That section where I used to know and believe I didn't have to trip up or fall off or tell you my deepest darkest secrets in order for you to love me back. It's that section called self-worth and self-respect.
You tell people, rather lovers, those kinds of things when you feel safe and secure and loved in a relationship. I felt none of those things instead I was desperate, felt unworthy and unseen when I told you and that, that is what I resent.
It was like saying "Here, this is what you wanted? have it and have all of me without having to actually love me".
A huge part of me regrets it. Regrets knowing that you know far too much for someone that isn't even my friend, reciprocally.
A small part of me does not regret it.
I tried to knock my pedestal in your eyes, because that's what you wanted and I would have done anything... but the view of it, the greater picture is that it didn't and won't ever fucking matter.
Whether you've judged me, loved me or simply felt indifferent does not matter anymore,
I have hit rock bottom for you. I have not only leaped from my pedestal but I began to hate myself for ever being on it. I began to think I was not cool enough, not broken enough and not real enough whilst I was still seen as sitting up there. But the truth is I have always been broken and real and will most likely never be cool and it was not me that was ever wrong or too unattainable, it was you and it was your perceptions and view. You thought yourself either too cool or so low and you projected that shit onto me.
Where in mind do I begin to know the difference between truth and love? When I stop doing the saddest thing possible to myself. It is done now, I have turned myself into a body of desperation and a soul of torment. While this shit is painful, it is also brutally needed. It's the glue I'll use to piece together my shattered pedestal. It's the step I'll build to lift myself up off the floor. It's the position I'll take knowing I went too low to make you high and I will never do it again.
