Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1254013-Hurt-Beyond-Hurt
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Relationship · #1254013
Have you ever experienced what it feels like to have your existence questioned?
  I still can't believe I heard him say that.
"It would be so much better for me if you could be..." and he paused, a little hesitant to continue, but he had to because he'd already spoken.
"if you could be a little less like yourself."
      Oh, yes, he went there. He struck the little nerve in my baby toe, causing me to understand the meaning of killing me softly, however he was speaking in not such a soft nor quiet voice. I heard it loud and clear.
      Did he mean the way I talked or the way I walked? What about me was that much of a bother to him that I needed to change? So I'm detestable. We've had arguments before but none quite as hurtful as tonight.
      I know I have flaws and shortcomings but did they warrant such brutile honesty of such? This is me and if I can't be that, then who can I be? He's said plenty of times how much he loves me and never thought in a million years that someone such as me existed, until we met. At the time, me being who I am, or was, seemed to be hot, with a capital H! Something to attract a fellow and now it's the very thing that's driving him away from me.
      I've experienced rejection a time or two, well of course I'm embellishing the truth. Rejection has been a bud of mine, with us being as close as a door to its hinges.
      "So what exactly do you mean?" I ask, uncertain of what his answer might be. I brace myself and prepare for the answer that I'm sure will only add to my frustration and hurt feelings. But before he answers, I just have to say one more thing to buy me some time, to stall. Can my heart handle anymore?
        What he's asking of me is like asking a cow to stop mooing or a horn to stop honking. A cow without a moo wouldn't be worthy of being called a cow. And a honk-less horn would be useless, a waste pf space. 
        "How would you feel if your parents came home one day and blasted you with the same thing you just gave me? 'You know son, you're quite different than the rest of us and people have started to notice. You don't really fit in to our family. We thought by now you would have grown out of it but you haven't. So bud, what do you say, you think you might like it better at Bobby's, I hear they're different too. Maybe that'll be a better fit for you."
"That's so not the same," he said.
        "Not the same, why, not brutal enough?" In so many ways he just told me I was nothing. Nothing. What's not the same about the two? "What on earth did I ever do to you to deserve this?" I stopped and looked at him. I can handle it, whatever he had to say, I could handle it.
"You don't love me enough or you don't show it. Well not to my satisfaction. My previous girlfriends would have killed to be given the change I've given you." He spoke those words with every ounce of sincerity he had in his body. He was serious.
          I thought his words couldn't hurt any worst than when this conversation began. Did they cancel his favorite cartoon or discontinue making his favorite cereal. Sarcasm was now flowing through my veins where blood once was the occupant.
          "Is it possible for me to ever love you to your satisfaction, Romeo? You knew I was no Juliet when you pursued me. I showed you who I was and you seemingly accepted it."
"Yes, I did and you wanna know why? I did so because you had so much potential. I saw something inside of you waiting to be birthed."
            Before I knew it I was in a tempestous rage. "Who died and made you God?"
"Baby, I'm sorry. You're blowing this way out of proportion. I just meant that sometimes we have to make sacrifices for one another and..."
          "and the sacrifice you want me to make is to go into my closet and come back out fitting in the perfect little mold that you've always envisioned the woman of your dreams to be. Dream on, man."
          I stormed towards the door like a soldier on a war path, opening it to free myself from the arrogance and selfishness that was hogging the oxygen that once flowed freely in the room. Once I took my last step, placing me on the other side of Mr. Wonderful's threshold, I slammed the door, hoping to leave an impression behind as he'd left my heart.  I never knew I still had the ability to hurt like this still. Today I learned that no matter how bad you've been hurt the pain doesn't lessen as it continues to happen. It always feels as fresh as an open wound that sand has been rubbed in.
844 words
© Copyright 2007 Hartfeltwriter (mrsezeff at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1254013-Hurt-Beyond-Hurt