Broken Doll

Three days to Valentine’s Day and I already know I’ll be spending it alone again. I’d love to ask him to do something, anything, but we’re still “talking” when we have the time and energy to schedule such things and recent conversations hang over us. No, he doesn’t feel that way anymore. Yes, I still do. Hence, we are stuck in an absolutely impossible situation, and asking him for Valentine’s Day would remind him of all this, would make him feel bad for hurting me, might make him wonder if I am still asking for what I know he doesn’t have in him to give. And yeah, a part of me still wants him to give it anyway, still wishes he could; a part of me just wants to be able to say “I love you” and have it mean just that without it morphing into some sort of weird guilt-trip; and a part of me wants to throw up my hands and say, “Then just lie to me, for as long as you can, pretend that you do and let me have the fantasy for a while before you find someone else, before you go away, before I’m left here with nothing for the rest of my life.”

Please.

And I just wish I had someone to talk to about it, but our relationship is too complicated to try to explain to my Mom (she wouldn’t get it), I don’t want Elizabeth or Jason to end up stuck in the middle, and there’s no one else. The social worker is already encouraging me to walk away from him. She thinks she’s being subtle but she’s not. This is something her professional distance won’t allow her to get, either. She sees categories and formulas and forgets that this is about real people and real feelings and real life that don’t fit neatly into categories or follow the formulas. We are not like everyone else.

I’m lonely. I’m fucking lonely and I have no other options. I take what I can get because it’s either that or nothing and I’m not seeing “nothing” as a better means of salving the lonliness.

No this isn’t what I want; but it’s what I have to work with. There isn’t something better than this. This is it.

I don’t even have it in me to be bitter about this. It just hurts. Hollow. Empty. Lonely.

Unwanted. Untouched.