Loving And Leaving May Seem Easy For Some, But That Isn't Always The Case

Loving And Leaving May Seem Easy For Some, But That Isn't Always The Case

"If I go back, he might ask me to stay."

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The first chapter of a piece I started last year. Loving and leaving may seem easy for some, but that isn't always the case.

Vicki (2013)

Disappointment became just another pill when it came to you, Seth, and our arguments were just another rerun of the same episode of a T.V. show I was long over watching.

"Goddamnit, Vicki. Seriously? You think you would've learned by now."

"I guess I never realized wanting to stay was something they taught you through your years of adolescence but, if it was, then you're right - I never learned."

Thinking of teaching, be taught, heavy backpacks - it all made me think about the first time I met Seth. From the beginning, we knew there was an end. Or at least, I did. Built on lies and rooms too small for the two of us, someone was bound to walk out - I just didn't think it would take this long. I come with a lot of baggage, but I always keep it packed.

I could turn around - walk back in and tell him I was joking, tell him I could stay, that I loved him, that I didn't know how to live without him, but that's all only partially true. Maybe this is some kind of joke that we will later laugh about when we fall asleep in our too-familiar bed that always felt too small, like the distance between us wasn't enough, like I was caring after someone else's house while they tanned their bronze skin and smelled like coconut and selfishness on an unnamed beach while it took me a little too long to finally fall asleep in a bed my body knows it doesn't belong in.

Or, maybe the laughs come from within our favorite corner coffee-shop after we run into each other and the sight doesn't bring bad memories tied together with pain or forced smiles - Seth's real smile comes with a laugh that always seems to escape his blush tinted lips before he realizes the sound is coming from him. I actually don't know if that's Seth's favorite coffee-shop. I think he preferred tea. He can tell me all about his wife and his new life, and I'll tell him I'm exactly the same.

Or, maybe in a snowed-in Thursday morning when we were trapped inside the house but everything we couldn't stand about each other, when I told him I wanted to dye my hair pink and play the banjo in a bluegrass band because at least it would be different, would be the last time I'd hear those escaped runaway melodies. Those sweet melodies I'd write my first bluegrass song about and strum my banjo along to the sounds I'm starting to forget.

I could stay; I know that, but we both know I wouldn't be staying because it was I who wanted to. I could stay, but I don't think for long, and definitely not forever. Whose life am I trying to live? I do love him, but I think I love everyone. It's hard to tell which love is sticking around for - or maybe I haven't felt that yet, and that's why twenty-eight cities know vaguely of my name and the shape of my hips as they sway while I walk away for the last time.

What scares me is that I don't know how to live without him. The only permanence of our lives that exists together is found within the handprints we once left on a freshly cemented sidewalk outside of that too comfortable, too suburban house we never belonged to together. From creating sidewalk evidence of our once felt love to walking away on the same sidewalk five years ago, every year could be summed up with a memory I shared with Seth.

Seth. Sweet, good-natured, innocent, Seth. I loved everything that I wasn't that I found in you. I wish I could stay to save the hurt we both knew I was bound to cause, but I only want to walk away with love for you, and I don't know if I would start to resent myself, or you, if I stayed, or if I've already started to.

"Tell him that. Go back, and tell him that," the voice in my head echoed. My cheeks were red; I could feel it. My eyes felt heavy and soon, my cheeks would be stained with hot tears I couldn't keep to myself.

"If I go back, he might ask me to stay."

I don't know how many times I can let myself walk out that heavy-with-guilt, always-locked-away door before I finally won't need a key anymore.

Home to me always wanted to be a green door in a city I had yet to find. And when I open MY front door, I don't need anyone else standing behind it. This home was built for one, and these bags were meant to be packed, and I was never meant to learn the same things as you - I was meant for goodbyes, and see-you-laters; I was never meant to walk away - I was meant to run.

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He told me to never cut my hair short because it would make me look too masculine.

So, I sent him pictures of three different pixie cuts and asked him which one I should get.


He told me not to wear red lipstick because it made me look like a slut.

So, I bought every shade from blush rose to maroon.


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My favorite shop was having a sell on a beautiful pair of three-inch stilettos. I bought them.


He told me that I was putting on a few extra pounds and that I shouldn't order dessert on our next dinner date.

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I wrote down his number on our receipt before we left the restaurant.


He told me not to leave my "feminine products" on the counter because it's embarrassing.

When his friends came over for guys night, I organized my tampons and pads nicely on the bathroom shelf.


He told me that I couldn't talk to my best friend of 12 years because he was a guy.

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My new "GIRL PWR" shirt is my favorite.


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A Well-Deserved And Long Overdue Thank You To My Boyfriend

I know it's cliché, but he deserves it.

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Thank you for choosing me and loving me unconditionally every day. I do not deserve the love that you radiate, but I am beyond thankful for it. Thank you for showing me kindness in every action and for listening to every pointless story I have. Thank you for being the person I can go to 24/7 with any piece of news. Thank you for being the only person who can make me laugh when I am not in the mood at all. Thank you for picking up all of my pieces and wiping all of my tears. Thank you for making sure I always feel loved.

Thank you for believing in pinky promises just as much as I do and for making sure you never break them. Thank you for always reassuring me even though it gets annoying. Thank you for believing in me and pushing me out of my comfort zone. Thank you for knowing when I need a confidence boost, when I need a push, or when I just need a shoulder to cry on. Thank you for taking the time to learn everything about me.

Thank you for never giving up on me no matter how grumpy I get or how hard our week has been. Thank you for never going to sleep mad and always saying "I love you" before we leave. Thank you for the tight squeezes and play fights. Thank you for the deep belly laughs and jam sessions in the car. Thank you for the late-night phone calls when I can't sleep and for doing everything you can to make me better when I'm sick. Thank you for loving me no matter what and no matter when. Thank you for all of the memories. Thank you for holding on tight and never letting go.

Thank you for being everything I could ever want and for showing me what love really is.

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