My biggest mistake was telling you - ANYTHING!
The sacrilegious way you devoured my sacred words and stored them greedily in your mental dossier, stockpiling them for the day when you would inevitably reel them off one by or, in phrases, perhaps; loading them into your ever-cocked bow and flinging them at me when my back was turned - when I least expected it.
Then,there were the moments when despite the tempest of you, I would feel at ease and just an ordinary conversation would suddenly become extraordinary - in a single blink… a word, a look a sign; just being me…would send you into a frenzy of delusion.
Out would come your collection of stored (my) words- nonsensical and out of context with the moment. I would lurch emotionally, bewildered and stunned as each word hit and stung my soul.
You might think that the end was when it finished but the end started not too long after the beginning. Actually, when your ex de facto poked the crowbar through my back door nine times, I should have got wind that this was something that didn’t need a beginning. Affected by this violation, I got on my white charger and galloped headlong into your strange surreal world. Thus, the beginning was short and frenetic but the end… it was so, so long; drawn out and excruciatingly de-energising as I struggled to extricate myself from your grip.
Yet, the little rescuer in me dominated my sensibility and, of course, you were so practiced and so convincing playing out your victim role… the sweet guy, the good guy; so oppressed, henpecked and abused- how could the rescuer in me resist? Particularly with me being a Leo and all… loyal to the core; blindly fighting for the rights of the minority (only I got confused as to whose side I was on); protecting my herd. How could I not attempt to save you?
BUT, silly me didn’t realise at thr time that you were beyond saving and in fact, in the end, it was I who was struggling to save myself.
Not until near the end, did I develop a shield that would adequately protect me from your ammunition. I realised that it became a shield that suppressed my joy, my spontaneity, my creativity; in a nutshell- ME! I allowed you to suppress all the best parts of me until I nearly became what you imagined I was. Little did I realise that your tortured soul wanted my submission; my subjugation.
Your innate sense of inadequacy, so masked by pretence; so well covered by well practiced over activity; by those obsessive-compulsive traits that none of us could ever understand or barely tolerate. Like the times you castigated me for some imagined wrongdoing. The time I apparently ripped a $2 plastic sock hanger off your shoddy hay twine clothesline. Remember that clothesline? The one you ‘temporarily’ strung up after a great whopping gum tree dropped its laden branches right on top of our Hills Hoist?
Devastation and entanglement? Iron pipe, my good work clothes and wet branches; that joyous occasion?
The temporary clothesline that remained temporary forever more… The $2 plastic sock hanger with the plastic pegs that got brittle with age; the one you wouldn’t let die and kept fixing obsessively?
The one you claimed ownership of and were prepared to fight to the grave for?
And, I didn’t rip it off- it just fell apart in its brittle glory…despite your fixing.
I used to say to you, 'it’s a great pity that you don’t spend as much time fixing your relationship as you do fixing inanimate objects'. It remained a poignant reminder of your priorities and denials.
Humans adapt so well to atrocities. How amazingly a lost self can apply layers of emotional bandaids, concealing the quagmire that lies beneath. That destroyed self; handicapped by introversion, annihilated by three extrovert siblings, humiliated and chastised by mother, abused by father then abandoned at a tender age, by his death. That lost self, never to be regained- forever broken, forever seeking validation from others.
And, it all passed scrutiny. Seldom did another see through the transparency. Only those that are sucked into the vortex get an inkling and even then they struggle like me, to decipher the hidden code of your unconscious.
If I ever alluded about your behaviour to anyone, I was met with 'oh, he’s such a nice person', 'so kind and helpful'. Yes, you were… from the outside. But as soon as you formed an emotional attachment to a significant other, the baby was thrown out the window with the bath water.
Excerpts fro Ex's (c) Ajanta Judd 2003