Broken Doll

I don’t understand. I have never understood why you left.

You gave me your excuses, yes, but you never told me the real reason.

All those things you said you couldn’t deal with — like struggling — you deal with them fine now.

All those things you said you couldn’t do without — like humiliation, or roleplaying (and I fucking liked roleplaying) — well you do without those fine now too.

Does she ever dress up for you? Or are you doing without that too?

So why? What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I enough for you? What the hell did I do? Not do?

All those things you never asked for… the trimming? Would not have been a big deal. It’s just not something I ever cared much about one way or the other, and you never told me it was important to you, so I defaulted to the lazy end of the spectrum. I just didn’t think about it. It just wasn’t on my radar. How can I know you want it, that it’s important to you, if you don’t tell me?

You were so patient with me in the beginning. What the hell happened?

You told me that you didn’t want it to end. I believed you — I still do — there was so much pain in your voice. So why in all of heaven and earth did you end it?

It has never made sense. None of this has ever made any sense. What we had, what we were together was magical, something that neither one of us will ever experience again with anyone else in our lifetimes. How could you throw that away? How in god’s name could you throw that away?

I love you, you goddamned fucking bastard.