fool me once

I just feel a bit sad, today. One part of my brain says to not even look while the other still has that small skip of a beat of hope. like, maybe? Maybe this is all some misunderstanding and they care deeply and still want me around and maybe think of me and…

but then I have to stop. because I need to listen to action, not words. and action shows nothing but passing convenience. of when there’s a time and place and I make things happen in some way because it’s my fault to begin with that everything is difficult as is. or at least: what I’ve told myself each time that little trickle of wanting to feel the love I once believed could be true.

I never even attempted to ask what I wondered under the many layers of guilt, shame, regret. Like: if there had ever been a chance, what would that have looked like? After all, I was already left to the wayside long ago. had accepted (albeit with early distraught sadness) that I hadn’t really mattered. I accepted that I was foolish, no longer fun or a convenience and served as only a stepping stone to the next mentally unwell person.

So when told by my action it had all been wasted, I was so confused. Like, had it not already been so? Had I not already been someone you could no longer speak to, spend time with or friend? Before I had ever even spoke up in protection of those I didn’t even know. (and so many different branches seemed to confirm the devastating truth. one with an accidental kiss, another with the same trailhead I began on, and then that one with the messages. all with the same step just before the thick line - easily deniable, but if they had accepted the lead been wrapped I the same silken sheets.)

and the one that I heard others joke and snicker about. the one that seemed cruel and so I wouldn’t engage. of secret deals behind dates on a calendar. hand motions and noises of a sexual innuendo. ‘we all know how they got that job,’ with a wink. but I never asked, never had the heart or courage.

would it even matter? because either someone else was used or two were or nobody at all? was there more behind the walls if it had? maybe some feelings that never did end?

or the other: maybe we share this little thing?

I couldn’t ask. They never seemed ready. And if they were, would I somehow unleash the path to their freedom of expression? Where those who surrounded them loved them and accepted them? And all were happy with the shed of a lavender cloak?

they were never going to be questions I could ask.

like when did you see that I would be someone easily fooled? what was my phrase that gave it away, what part what I did exposed how unloved I had always been? Where simple smiles, comfort and laughs would make me feel like I had been on top of the world?

or if it had been real:

tell me what I need to do next time: how to make someone want to stay, what do I need to change? should I begin wearing makeup, lose some weight, get fillers or a boob job? Do I need to have a straighter smile, less baggage, not be so stammering and unsure or nervous? Do I simply need to hit reset: be someone new completely?

because even when they said I shouldn’t change: they all left.

so i’m sad today. but i’ll let it go. i’m trying more without pressuring myself to meet some magic deadline.

it’s always painful the moment they turn away completely.