Funeral for an Ex-Lover, Part 2

I say goodbye, I take my bow because lovers change, as did you.

Your construction
Smells of corruption

I don’t know what happened, if anything ever really did happen or you were always that way to begin with. I’d fallen for one person but moved in with two, a Jekyll and Hyde hidden underneath your skin. My love for you blinded me. I was a sitting duck.

I’ll manipulate to recreate

If I can’t take it back, I can use it to be better.

This air to ground saga

Is almost over. In a little bit, it will all be over.

Gotta launder
My Karma

If anything needs a run through the rinse cycle, it’s my karma. That’s where the list comes into play.

Gotta launder my Karma.

The list. My list, or, Mea Culpa. A list of things you said to me over the years, things you told me or yelled out at me or spat at me in fits of anger, and I usually answered back with nothing but tears.

Not anymore.

You’ve never been happy with yourself.

Not true. I used to be plenty happy, in fact, right around the time I met you.

You’re going to live in your parent’s basement forever.

Not true again. My official address now is elsewhere.

Will you get liposuction if I pay for it?

Will you get a lobotomy if I provide the sledgehammer? Wait, I’ll even do the hitting myself.

Fat hairy bitch.

Original. What insults were you using by the fourth grade?

Psycho.

Takes one to know one.

I don’t want people talking about my fat girlfriend behind my back.

Okay, let them talk about your little dick instead. Oops, I wasn’t supposed to say that.

I don’t want to deal with this right now.

I don’t want to deal with you ever again.

Only guys who like fat chicks look at you. I’ve seen them staring.

Who liked you, then? I never saw anyone staring.

Six years of misery, that’s what this has been.

It is what you made it. And that’s why you’re not here right now.

Why would I ever get into the fucked up institution of marriage?

Because you should only be so lucky to love and be loved in the way that I once loved you. I promise, you will never experience anyone as good as me, ever again. Count on it.

Do you know what your problem is?

You.

Do you know what your problem is?

You.

Do you know what your problem is?

YOU.

I don’t want to be with you when you look like this.

Honey, I'd take one good, long look at those dipstick legs of yours before trashing anyone else's appearance. My stomach never had creases on it from multiple spare tires like yours did, and as for your personal hygiene... tsk tsk. Start showering daily, then we'll talk.

Jerking off is more pleasurable than fucking you.

Six years, six orgasms. Please, did you honestly think I never did my own handiwork?

I can’t be with a fat girl. That’s my choice.

Ciao.

I just want a hot girlfriend.

I just want a kind, tender, understanding man who genuinely loves & respects me, is great to talk to, and knows how to make me laugh. Ah, yes. I do have that now.

This is your fault.

No, it wasn’t my fault.

This is your fault.

It took me a long time to see that.

This is your fault.

The trademark of the abuser is to isolate his victim, after all.

Did you hear me? I said, this is your fault!

I don’t care, because I don’t hear you very much anymore.

Fuck YOU!

Fuck you too, asshole.

Yes, I was stupid. Nobody should take that, or feel they have to. Nobody should have to listen to their worst fears come to life, that they’re no good. No good, as spoken to you by your loved ones. I was stupid to have ever let you treat me like that.

But I can change too, Jess. I like to think I wasn’t so stupid as to keep you around forever. Six years come, six years gone, six years learned. I’m worse for the wear since you came into my life; there are worry lines and gray hairs coloured over, but I’m here. Im here, and I’m happy.

Part of me is going into that dirt hole with you, make no mistake. She was the one who was too tired to make the rest of the journey. The rest of me though, the one right here, only sees the way ahead. You’re not in that path.

I crumple the list up and toss it into the grave, followed by the poem I wrote, my eulogy:

Charming boy
Green eyes bright
I fell for you
Something stupid

Fucked up boy
Elephantine ego
You’re such a head case

I don’t hear you very much anymore, Jess. And after today, I will never hear you again.