She said, “you must love him.”
With a deep sigh and scattered thoughts, I spoke words to her, “you have no idea how bittersweet this feels. It’s not like I try to or that I want to; my heart just clings to him and now it’s weak and won’t leave even when in my mind I know he doesn’t deserve me.”
She told me to things along the line of how to let him go. “Walk away,” she said, “and see if he follows.”
I laughed, a little harder than I should have, seeing as how it wasn’t a joke because she didn’t understand how he’d just watch me walk away. Sure, he’d hurt a little, probably a lot for a little while, but he’d heal because he was on a mission that didn’t need me.
“Maybe he’s stuck,” she began again, trying to piece together the puzzle, “he wants you but doesn’t feel like right now is the right time.”
Again, laughter escaped my lungs, “stuck?” I questioned her theory and held my stomach as it began to ache with pain; I couldn’t understand how one word could be so humorous. “He isn’t stuck. He knows what he wants. Knows where he wants to go. His ideas are set and he prays that God grants each of them. He just doesn’t need me,” I pondered, understanding my own words, “as much as I don’t need him. We just lust for one another. He feeds my flesh and I crave affection. He craves power, money and success. When I know all that will come in time. He’s on a mission.”
“Why keep doing this to yourself?” Her words pierced me like bullets being fired from dozens of armed angry men. I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t need an answer because she read it so clearly. We both knew. Instead she said, “what now?”
I looked at her, I took one good look and said, “God has a plan, I’m just waiting on it to fall through.”
With those last words, I drew back my arm and with force smashed the hammer in my hand in the mirror.
Like dust, she was gone but everything else still remained.