It was this weekend, ten years ago, that began the most horrifying period of my life, a tsunami of events in six months that left me eviscerated, decimated, emptied, during which I lost the only person with whom I’d ever been in love, the only person who not only allowed but encouraged me to be fully me – all of me – including waving at attractive men, and the only person who every really, truly loved me unconditionally, never seeing anything but the light in me.
I cannot believe it has been ten years. Hardly a day goes by that I do not live with part of one or all of them, that I do not mourn again, and wonder again why I was left when they have gone.
I have done nothing but fall down and fail, over and over again since then. I am a complete waste of space. And in the past few years of this decade from hell, I have been left, betrayed, slandered, and broken-hearted by people still walking and breathing in whom I placed the sort of love and trust I had shared with that trinity.
I am an idiot. I am a fuck-up. I am a loser. And I cannot believe it has been ten years. And I cannot believe I didn’t do then what I wanted to do. Jackass. If I had known what would happen in the next decade; if I had known how I’d be treated by people who claimed to love me more than anyone else in the world (they all have that in common – how funny – all of them telling me how they loved me more than anyone else and how – ultimately – I didn’t deserve it) – fuck this noise.