Toxicity?

So I met you. Well sorta, I saw you, you big wildly beautiful eyes and a smile that would make a friend of a stranger in a minute. I go to extreme measures, asking a friend if they knew your name, twitter, facebook, to find you, just to say “hi.” We were essentially enamored and dating form that first conversation onward. We made it official 4 days later after our first date. Three and a half weeks in you attempt to break up with me.
There aren’t enough butterflies. Not enough fireworks. Feels like the end of your last serious relationship where you just tried to make it work. You were delighted seemingly that my logic won that fight. We hang out a few days later, Sunday. I don’t know if you knew how scared I was of seeing you after our attempted break up. I don’t know what you were feeling coming into that. But you seemed to really enjoy that day as much as I did.
We don’t talk at all that week, a few texts, you spend 3 nights in a row out with clients til wee hours of the morning. I didn’t sleep much that week. Worried and hopeful. Worried for you making it home safely. Hopeful to hear from you. Annoyed and missing you, I finally suggest that we talk during your lunch break. You call me Friday, saying that we need to break up really. We get in a fight about it. And then Saturday over text, partially my fault, maybe entirely my fault, we have a two hour text discussion about why you think we still really need to break up, and how dumb I feel that is. You were so detached, so matter of fact, so far away. I deleted everything except our facebook messages that day, stopped following you on facebook, and instagram. Spent the next day, praying and fasting for you, for hours. Sent you a letter and prayer I wrote during that time, and an email I started Sat night but didn’t finish til Sunday. The email got to you first, and by Monday you were second guessing your decision. By Tue you got my letter, which made you cry. You don’t cry.
We text back and forth for a couple days. Thursday your counselor suggests we stop all communication for a few weeks to a month as the Spirit leads, to give you the time and space you need to sort through a slew of conflicted feelings. I hated the idea, and you weren’t too fond of it either.
We texted less, every time I felt unfairly guilty. Every time I wanted to scream “THIS IS SO DUMB” . Then we texted even less, whole days, going by with not so much as a word. I was really bad at it. Approximately three weeks of not talking (five if you include the last week were together, and don’t count texting) we get in a fight Monday morning about how un-supportive I’m being in this not talking thing. I don’t text you all week, Friday in my facebook news feed a handful of pictures of you with some cute brunette show up all over with captions like “best day ever”.
So thinking I cannot sink any lower, I creep on your facebook and find out she is a waitress that gave you her number. So….you’re on a business trip, a cute waitress hands you her number, you joke about it under a picture of “where you are at” saying as much as “are you trying to marry me off” to some one who asked if you liked her. You liked all the bantering. Then you go and hang out with her, like dinner, drinks, etc…  My heart shattered.
I texted you the next day saying I was done with this. Just so very done. Feeling so disrespected so dishonored.
You say nothing. For over a week you say, do nothing.
I break, unable to restrain myself longer, and send you an email.
You don’t reply. Niente.
I half expected to hear something on Thursday after your counselor’s appointment. Nothing.
Heart breaking, angry fat the warmth I have in me towards you still, distraught over a hope that just seems so unwise still fluttering in me. I text you to say I’m sorry that ring got stolen right under you nose from you.
You tell me you didn’t go on a date on the East Coast, and that I may be over reacting.
You text me today, that you were thinking about calling me before you got that email.
I asked you to just tell me you don’t hate me, and still care, or something.
You asked “why would I hate you? Of course I don’t hate you.”
I don’t know why. But now five weeks of no real conversation, no real communication. I don’t know why you would hate me, but I cannot see anything kind or loving in this right now, so you must hate me. Is kind of how the feelings’ side of things sort out.

There is no, absolutely no indication of anything, that you care, that my feelings matter to you, that I matter to you. That it bothers or upsets you in any way that not being communicated with is such a violently toxic attack on my heart and mind.
So to review, we were on for about a month, on the rocks big time for a week with little to no communication, then we break up, and haven’t really talked for five weeks.
I think you expect me to trust you. I think it confuses you that I seem so distrusting.
God, how to I let you see, share it in such a way it makes sense?
How do I show you that this is so toxic, so hurtful, and harmful for me?
And the worst is that I am still believing in us, that we are something good, and true and beautiful.
Because I truly think we are.
Yet from where I’m standing I have every reason to think otherwise. To feel otherwise.

Relationships are two-sided. The problems in relationships don’t get solved just by one person. Problems in relationships really don’t get solved without communication.
I don’t think you have a clue who I am, who you have strung along. Who is in this with you.
How do I explain it? How can I show you? I’m a fighter, I’m a warrior, I’m a lover, I am so much stronger then anyone thinks. My heart is otherworldly.  I can handle the messes of men because God is with me, but I am fragile. I don’t mind the breaking, but I can’t tolerate poison. I am so susceptible the lies of darkness when there is no light of communication being given. The silence is like someone ripping my heart out of my chest and holding it menacingly in their hands, poisoning it slowly. The tightness in and weight on my chest is palpable. It is a dull agony that eats away at me every day.
Every day I am keenly aware of something seriously broken that I can not make any amends towards.
It is spiritually, emotionally, and mentally distracting and draining. Which is of darkness, it is what the enemy wants. Not of God, not what He desires for me, for us. The reality of that truth is haunting, both relieving and heavy at the same time.
Lord have mercy.
Three months…it’s only been three months. Two months of that was bad.
Lord have mercy. Help me. Why are either of us bothering?

Mercy Jesus. Please.

All that to say, I’m still in this. I still believe it is good. I am still willing to fight with all the beauty of life giving love.
I still believe in you.

~ by Courtney Coleman on May 3, 2014.