You Don't Say ...

I loved passionately. I loved wholely. I loved with everything I've got.

I can't say that I've done everything correctly. In fact, I haven't. I know I've got my flaws.

But above all, I tried, and I was going to try again and again and again.

And what's wrong with that?
Why do you make me sound so pathetic to the rest of the world, when I am the brave one who was ready to weather the storm, to honor my commitment, to go until the end, to protect, to love, and everything else that we have promised each other again and again?

Your honesty is not honesty because there is no fairness involved. With no foreshadowing, no opportunity, no communication, no attempt to understand, the end hardly seems fair. It's always so easy for the one who has the upperhand to say he's done everything he could and take the moral highground of "I didn't do anything wrong; in fact, I was virtuous."

How could he be surprised at the fact that I'm taking it so hard? How could he even begin to think that we could just be on good terms instantaneously? How could he force me to be pleasant and happy when everything that my life has been and ever would be disappear? How could he even deny that he did anything wrong when so many things went wrong?

Why am I being punished? Why am I made to carry this burden alone?

Why is he always right and I always wrong? Why do I get put down like that? Why does it always have to go his way? Why can't he just understand and not assume? Why can't he just stop thinking he can't change his behavior -- no one wants him to change his personality! Why can't he keep an open mind? Why can't he believe that there's more to life than what he knows?

What is love to him? What is commitment to him? And what is loyalty?
He loved me during the good times, left me during the bad.
Self-righteous superficial and fairweather fan ... so cold, so distant, changed so quickly.

Because "things shouldn't be so hard" ....
Well, things shouldn't be easy, nor should it be impossible.

I was patient. I kept on believing even when it wasn't perfect. I gave way. I tried to understand.

and for what? All for love. All for him.

I haven't exactly lost myself. If he'd look closer, if he'd have patience, he'd see that all the things he loved about me is still there:
honesty, selflessness, sense of wonder, determination, strength, kindness, ....
Everything. There. For those who wanted to see.

What things I do for love.
And now I'm being punished for it, while he moves along with easy.