When Will I Remember to Forget?
Mood:  sad
Now Playing: Roads - Portishead
Its been two nights now that I've been having these debilitating dreams of Phantom.

The first one was just simple jealousy bullshit, but last night it was rage, pain, sorrow, longing....all the feelings that should not be associated with my thoughts of her or her name. She should be dead to me. Her name a bitter curse that I dare not utter lest it poison my tongue as it leaves my mouth. Why then does my mind not lay her to rest in the cursed earth of the darkest pits of my thoughts? Why does my heart not murder her thought and dump the remains?

She pulled her usual bullshit Friday night during Orphan's BD party. When Phantom doesn't get what she wants she makes sure everyone else has a bad time. Neither Orphan Or I have heard from her for shit. I don't know about Orphan, but before I finally sent Phantom the last letter stating where I stood on the whole "leave me alone" front, the only time I heard from Phantom was when she wanted something. She couldn't be bothered with calling be while I was in Florida after our breakup (though I called her everyday for 4 of the 5 days I was there). She couldn't be bothered with me when I returned nor the two weeks after while I was still living in the same house with her. She was always too busy to spend any time with me, talk with me. Unless of course she needed me to do something. Contact with her was limited to lists of things she needed done or fixed and short phone calls asking if she could have rides to work and to the mechanics while her car was being repaired. The time I got to spend with her included dead quiet hours at work within 5 feet of each other and heart wrenching car rides, whose silence was just as deadly. When finally my heartache and my longing for her was too much for me to handle, and I called her and asked for an audience, she was too busy dancing in New Orleans with her new "friends" to be able to grant such a lofty request. She could call me when she got home. 4 hours later (3:30am, I waited when I had been up since 8am and had to wakeup again at 8am for work) she had finished her fun and decided to call me. As I began to tell her how much I couldn't take the hurt and how big of a mistake I had made, she cut me off and told me that she was perfectly happy with the decision and that it was for the best. I felt cold in my chest. I told her that if that was what she wanted then fine. Explained that I had to go to bed to go to work the next morning, that I would finish getting the last of my shit out of her house, and that I was sorry for thinking that what I had mistaken as something important was actually nothing at all. The next evening, when I show up at her house to get my shit, she had left me a note. Its contents you may think would be something if not apologetic, at least soothing. Its contents were a list of things she wanted me to do for her including installing a flood light, nailing down floor molding, and fixing her lawn mower. It was here that I decided to ignore my pain and want for her and to not show her any more weakness. It was also here that I began feeling as if I had been confused or duped over during the course of our 8 year relationship. I mean, how can someone have loved you and wanted to have a family with you if, only three weeks after you split up for the first time ever, you can so easily thwart the heart-broken pleas for forgiveness and retribution from the one you had pledged so much love and need for less than one month earlier (I have the numerous confessions of love and happiness on tape)? And then to add insult to injury to this person that you supposedly wanted to spend the rest of you life with, your next contact with this person is a fucking list of shit you want him to do for you. Here let me rip your heart out and rip it to pieces and than ask you to fix my fucking lawnmower. So the next day I awake a new person, comfortably enshrouded in my cloak of denial. The next week or two go by OK. I try to act like we were friends, I forced playfulness and idle chatter, I blocked out anything else that she could harm me with...except.
I hear word that she is not just dating but fucking the guy down the street like a fucking rabbit. I of course don't at first believe this, not the woman who definition of passion and sensuality were non-existent. From the woman who told me that it hurt if we had sex for longer than 15 minutes and who said she rarely thought of sex at all. I just passed it off as rumor, or at least I thou gt I did. However, I was wrong. I remember feeling as if I had been jolted awake from a dreamless sleep. I remember realizing that my entire body was tensed and shaking uncontrollably as I held the the truth in my hands. It was not a rumor. Within a month, maybe a week or two over, she had shed her deep love and plans for me that had been 8 years in the making. Within a month. She had lied to me about her feelings, she had lied about her plans with me, she had lied about the sex, she had lied about her attraction to me and who I was, she had lied about who she was. The woman I had loved for so long and had sacrificed most of who I was in a vain attempt to please her constantly updating list of demands of who she wanted me to be, didn't exist. She was some construct. I had been duped, for what purpose I have no idea. My thoughts of the person she really is resembles a chameleon. She doesn't really exist. The person who embodied the constructed woman I loved does not have a real personality. She clings on to those who will care for her and put up with her constant rudeness, cruelty, and demands, and then does what she can to create a personality that is as closely compatible as she could get. Her entire lifestyle, interests, clothing style, everything has changed into what is compatible with the club hopping people she is hanging out with and fucking now. She does things that she always was against (contact lenses, smoking cigarettes, sexual escapades with damn near strangers).

I don't know this person. Its not that I have a problem with this person she has become, other than the fact that she lied to me and ripped my heart out for no reason other than she had already started the fucking chrysalis into the new personality. Which brings us back to the party.

Phantom was not invited to the party. For various reasons other than, but not more important than, my disdain for her presence. It was a given that she would not be there. Syn, wasn't invited for similar reasons. We wanted no fucking drama at a party whose intention was to have a good time in celebration and fore go the fucking drama we've been involved in. However, that was not to be the fate of the party. A couple hours into the party Phantom phones Orphan to bitch her out about how they were supposed to be friends and that why wasn't she invited. This friend who has never fucking lifted a fucking finger to contact, hang out with, call for a talk, anything "friend"-like, is now upset that she wasn't invited to Orphan's bd party. After thoroughly making Orphan feel like shit, amongst other problems that came about during the party, Orphan retired early from a party in her honor. 20 minutes or so later I receive a call from Phantom. She wants to know if we are ever going to be able to talk again and that she doesn't want me deleted from her life, and other such bullshit. I, being hardened and trained well by my revelations of past hidden abuse was now ready to fire back on her with her own ammunition. I was just as cold hearted in my reply and care for her false concern as I had been treated before. The conversation was quick and doubtful how she expected it to turn out. I envisioned her at home alone with no one to go show off her newly constructed personality. I envisioned her pissed because her treatment of others and myself had finally culminated into her exclusion from those who once cared for her and now were turned away from her presence. I envisioned her this way and I felt guilty at how happy it made me. I wanted her to feel rage. pain. sorrow. longing. I wanted her to feel as lonely as I did that night waiting by the phone and how alone I felt after we talked.

I'm the lucky one. I have those that care for and/or love me and that will help me heal with genuine concern and comfort. She has mannequins that echo as they have been programmed to respond. She will find false comfort in a group of her peers. Constructs just like her, and there will be no redemption or peace. Torment and toil barely hidden by false happiness.

I'll remember to forget the false love she gave me eventually. I'll exorcise the ghosts she planted in my heart and mind to haunt me. I'll one day be able to give those who love me the full extent of my love in return. And hopefully, I'll learn to forgive her and not take pleasure knowing her fate is full of cold nothingness.