Today I fought with a man, my man, a man I love. Not with punches, or blows exchanged and then felt, but with words, whose pain is greater. And I wounded him but his wounds wounded me deeper, and now I am the one who cries. Today I picked up the phone and called him, a thousand miles east past the sea. To hear him hurt hurt my heart to hear it, and bruised my soul that I was the cause.
Today I wept like someone was dying, and maybe, I am all but dead. I dug my fingers into the flesh of my thighs, drew blood, cried with a bowed head. He doesn’t know these things happened, he just read my words and took offense that I saw him so. But I didn’t and I don’t and I care more than heaven, about his head, heart, and soul.
Today, he thanked me for the harsh words I’d dealt him. He told me ’twas slander he knew. He told me that I was not always honest, and I told him, admitted it true. Today, my mended heart is again broken, because I have hurt my beloved. If you see this or hear this or just happen upon it, know that I meant you no harm my love. I loved you and love you, and will always love you, and I hope against all that you do love me too, but the caring, and the loving I’m afraid I am doing for us both, and you none, for you.
If you ever did care, then I beg you say something, because your silence is breaking my will. And your friends roar with laughter through the phone, and I know, that I mean nothing to you. I have tried, tried my hardest, and harder than hardest, but the other half must come from you.
….this much, I know to be true.