The cycle of an unfortunate event

"There are seeds of self-destruction in all of us that will bear only unhappiness if allowed to grow." -Dorothea Brande

One text, one phone call, a smile or the tiniest intention has the ability to incite things in me I could never imagine. As I sit here on the brink of insanity, you're carelessness, once again, sends me flying off the cliff. (And I must say...you have an impeccable aim for someone who hurdles their blows so non-chalantly).

The saddest part is, I'm not hurt by what you did (anymore). I'm saddened by your unwillingness to recognize your antagonist role in this modern day tragedy. As if you were bating me and my REaction's sent us spiraling out of control.

This play has acted itself out in my dreams countless times. But in a quick twist of fate I suddenly find myself having an out of body experience. It's as if I'm staring at my self from atop of that same rocky cliff. As if I'm the one who caused the Great Fall. I fall lower and lower to the bottom, holding the gaze with myself. Angry that I do this over and over.

This cycle of abuse so mainstream. You see it in movies, on tv, you witness it by your neighbors. "What in the world is she thinking?". But you never really understand until you're in their skin. While you're under his skin. While you're influenced by the warmth of his skin. Every electric touch- put out by the actions that followed without fail by the morning.

I repeatedly found myself climbing that rocky mountain over and over again. Only to push myself back off. Or is that now technically considered jumping? Was it the thrill of the climb that kept me endlessly hiking right back up. Because it was definitely not the fall that kept me coming back. Nor the climactic crash at the bottom. What was it about you? Because I sure as hell don't see it now.

So what does this nightmare mean? Once a sweet dream with such promise. Was it during my cry for you to accept what you did...that I finally noticed how much at fault I really was? I kept going back, the moth drawn to the flame who in turn got burned. Pity me, huh? To be such a common thing while you shone as bright as can be...almost seems unfair. But it usually is.

Well I know how this play ends...and baby, I'm not sticking around to see that final act.