"I'm not ready to leave Ellen yet, and I don't see myself feeling that way in the near future. And I'm sorry about that, I know it's not what you want to hear, but that is the truth. The only way I could see a possibility of us ending up together would be if she got sick or died in a car accident, and then you would have a very difficult decision to make".
I actually think I hate him more for saying such ugly scenarious out loud than I do for refusing to pick me. What is this hell that has become my life, I ask myself.
We traipsed through a patch of muddy leaves and he caught my hand and tried to catch my eye. "What do you want me to say?", he demanded. "It would be worse if I promised you things that could never be".
"But you did promise", I said, the words bitter on my tongue.
"Look. You keep things open and it keeps this going. You have to leave an opening, an element of hope. This lives on hope. I've done this before, remember?"
God, I hate that I love you Charles. I hate you, and I hate me more. But please ease this pain. This scraping of an open wound, make it stop as only you can.
I don't say it. But I cry and let him hold me. He rocks me. The tears are few. I have absorbed this new life lesson. I am older, colder for it. This is how it's done. Another petal fallen from the flower that was me.