Win, win

If you stay, you’re a martyr.
If you leave, you’re justified.

I know this all too well.

Every so often it occurs to me,
You would be this good to anyone.

You would be this loving,
this kind,
this considerate,
to someone,
anyone else,
in my place.
It is just the way you are,
As I am sure you were before.

I think I could not hold on to you,
(Why should I need to?)
I think I do not deserve,
Someone this loving,
This kind,
This considerate
When I myself am not.

And you know this all too well

You were right.
There is nothing you could do better,
There is no need to question,
There is no area for improvement.

The insecurity is mine
The inadequacy,
Mine alone.

I keep asking why,
Because I see what you are,
I can see how I am,
And I despair at the disparity.

I talk about change,
But the setbacks,
(One step forward, two steps back)
bring me smack down to earth.

It is not bitterness, it is resignation.

Even as I write this I imagine you thinking “Oh no, not again! Not another round of reassurance. When will she stop? When will what I say be enough?”

There is no need for reassurance, not this time.

I wrote this a week ago, a week on and I’m surprised that it’s still relevant. In fact I could have written it months ago and not have had to change a single word.

I can’t find my voice; it’s choked at the lump in my throat. All the pent up frustration just turns into aggression simmering just below the surface. And I, I try to quell, to suppress, to smother, me.

I can’t stand me, I’m not fair to you, I’m sorry and I love you.