good-bye

what good-bye should sound like, but i haven't brought myself to do it yet...

 

“Why don’t you want me?”

 

”Wha…?”

 

“You heard me. Why don’t you want me? What about me, about you, keeps you away from me? Am I not attractive enough? Is my body that unappealing? I mean, I know well enough I’m not perfect, but you seem to forget about my imperfections sometimes. Is it only when you’re drunk you can lower your standards enough to include me? Help me understand!”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re babbling.”

 

“I’m dying! Every time you ignore me, turn away, pretend you don’t hear me, brush me off, it hurts a little more, takes a little more of my pride and my soul.”

 

“That’s not my fault.”

 

“Not entirely, no. I’ve willingly given you these pieces of myself. But you abuse the privilege! Damn it all to hell! I don’t even know how to have this conversation with you! You don’t talk. You take everything for granted and when you don’t, you don’t want me around. Everything has to be on your terms or not at all and LIFE’S NOT LIKE THAT! I don’t know who told you it was but they lied!”

 

“I’m not doing this…”

 

“You’re right, you’re not. You’ve never been ‘doing this!’ You’ve merely allowed me to exist on the outer edge of your bubble until you deign to notice me for some reason or another: whether you want me to do something for you or you just want to f**k!”

 

“What’s up your a*s? Why did you pick tonight to be a b***h?”

 

“Up my a*s??? ‘What’s up my a*s?” he asks… and I’m being a b***h? Mister, you have no idea how big a b***h I can be… and you want to know why? Because you don’t even know me. I have lived with you for four freakin’ years and you haven’t even had the courtesy to learn who I am. If I’m in a bad mood, you call me bitchy. If I don’t want to do what you want to do, you call me bitchy. If I don’t get drunk with you and get annoyed with you for being drunk and stupid, you call me bitchy. Alright, I won’t argue, I’m a b***h. I’m a damn good b***h. And you don’t respect that! As a matter of fact, you don’t respect me at all. Did you ever give me any consideration when I was sick? No, you kept me at the bar ‘til all hours of the night because you weren’t ready to go home yet. I’ve asked you to stop smoking in the house, or hell, even just in the same room as me because you’re killing me with my lung problems, but will you? No. Why? Because you say I don’t clean the house well enough. No, don’t roll your f*****g eyes at me. Don’t stare at the T.V. as if I don’t exist. Look at me. Look me in the face. See me. You always treat me like I’m less, less than human, less than smart, less than human. But I’m not. I’m here. I’ve given you everything I can give, my love, my respect, I’ve been good to you, better than you f*****g deserve. What have I asked in return? Just for you to respect me a little, love me a little. But you can’t do it. You aren’t made that way. Do you know what it feels like to be alone?”

 

“I was alone for a long time and, right about now, I’m missing that…”

 

“You have no idea what I mean… I’m talking about sitting next to a person you love on the couch, lying next to that person in bed, and being alone because that person wants nothing to do with you. All of the things I’ve done, I’ve accomplished, I’ve suffered through since we’ve been together, I’ve done alone. I’ve won competitions, I’ve overcome my stage fright, without you. I’m standing here trying not cry, trying to tell you… When they put me in the hospital for surgery to find out if I had cancer, did you stay with me? No, it was more important to go drink beer at a barbeque. I didn’t want to bring it up, told myself I wouldn’t because it was my f*****g choice, but I drove myself to have an abortion that I didn’t really want to have because between doing that and losing you, I couldn’t deal with losing you. And I was alone. I drove there, I drove home, I sat on ‘your’ couch in ‘your’ house that we share and waited for you to come home and what did you do? You went to the bar after work. I’ve been alone because I chose you. Well, now I’m unchoosing. I’m done. I’m out. I love you to the point of addiction, but I’m quitting as of today. I want someone that I can love me the way I love them, someone that I can touch and not be pushed of. Someone that wants to have sex with me, someone that will cuddle me. Someone that will hug me when I’ve had a bad day, someone that won’t call me stupid because I forgot something they told me six months earlier as if nothing else could have been as important since then. I’m done.”

 

“Are you finished talking now?”

 

“Yeah. I’m finished.”

 

“Well, I’m not going to talk to your back as you walk away.”

 

“That’s funny, because you won’t talk to my front either, so where’s the new part to this conversation?”

 

“What do you want me to say? That I love you? Because I do. That I’m sorry for all these things that have upset you? Because I’m not. I can’t be sorry for being me. If it hurt your feelings, well, they’re your feelings, not mine. I can’t control that. So if you feel like you need to go, don’t expect me to help you.”

 

“You haven’t helped me in four years… Why would today be any different? Because I finally lost my temper and told you what I think? I should have done that years ago. There are things I remember that I don’t even want to bring up, things that would just hurt me say. It doesn’t matter. Maybe you should just go back to the w***e that broke your poor heart years ago… After all, you still call be her name when you’re drunk. I’m just going to take my clothes and my cats and go.

 

“Don’t let the door hit you…”

 

“Not a problem. I don’t think there’s anything left that can hurt me after you. Tell you what, though. If you ever decide to grow up emotionally, look me up. It’s killing me to stand here and be blasé about this, but I have no choice. You’ve left me no choice. So all I have left is… good-bye!”

 

“That’s fine! Walk out! See if I care. My life will be better without you and your crap around. I can watch what I want when I want. I can get on the computer when I want. I can eat what I want. I don’t need you. I don’t need you here to talk about me day to. I don’t need you here to get me soda when I’m out. I don’t need you hear to listen about my day. I don’t need you… God, this apartment seems quiet…”

 

Good-bye…

Reviews

[Carla (trying to make e..]

This was great. I got out some aggression towards one of my ex's by just reading it.... Definetly worth 1st place in My Last Words Contest.

Thanks for Sharing....

[Goodbyeguilt]

I wish my ex would let go that f*****g easily. B*****d.
Took me months.
It must feel immense to have written that.
Any aggression you have, just gone.
I really hope this has been published.
Somewhere, in some decent magazine or article ... as long as it has been recognised.

Well f*****g done!

GBG - Leah

[Jaime Luthe]

GIRL..I F*****G LOVE THIS!!! reminds me of my sister and her recent ex..so glad she got rid of him..so glad u did too!
I wanna know more!
PACE n INK

[Last Living Soul]

Ahh...nothing like the catharsis of unloading all that boiling aggression brought on by a(n)
(in)significant other. This reminds me a lot of what I posted for this contest...I think your dialogue might be more realistic than mine, but I really enjoyed writing it. Is this fiction, nonfiction, or inspired by life?