I knew what he meant before the words even started coming out. I was listening on the phone, when you questioned him if he still wanted to be married to you. I’m sorry mum, I’ve known for years.
"You have yourself pulled together so well, nobody questions how your dealing with things Jess." That doesn’t mean this doesn’t affect me. Tough on the exterier, a trait I learned from him. I cried tonight just hearing the words struggle out of his mouth “I don’t know.” "What’s wrong?" "Nothing."
I cried because it reminded me of you.
But then my best friend called, yeah, the one I haven’t spoken to in months. I’ve missed you Reece. You pulled me together tonight and you didn’t even know it. Thankyou.
I was looking forward to last night too. I thought if I distanced myself from people long enough, when I came back, they would change. But I was wrong. Sorry is just another word, over used and under felt, much like “I love you” and “I miss you”. So you’re sorry for what you did, and you’re sorry about what happened last night, and me… I’m sorry I trusted either of you enough to believe that you could be different.
People don’t change. You’ll keep undermining what you mean to me. This isn’t paper, this is life. You’ll keep telling me how you changed. And you, you will keep hurting me, again, and again, I’ll keep going back.
I remember when I’d doubt weather or not we were doing the right thing, sticking together, and it’d make me sad. It’d make me quiet. You used to talk a lot, mostly about nothing, so I’d kind of tune out and wonder if I ever voiced all these hidden feelings, if you’d even hear me. So I’d get kind of sad and depressed and try and tell you, trying to be wry or deep or maybe just trying to make you angry.
You’re all talk, all of you, I don’t want to hear it anymore, I want you, all four of you, to just listen Can you even hear me?