Swansong

“You have no idea how hard this is to write, or how badly I’m shaking that I can barely form the words, but something awful has happened and I have to leave you…this…everything.

Its over and we cant ever have this back

Even looking at that sentence in black and white…I can’t…I don’t know how to tell you in a kinder way and I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m too much of a coward to tell you in person. I hate that I’m so selfish I can’t bear the thought of your devastation added to my own, so I’m leaving you this and running. It feels criminal. It’s despicable.

It’s abhorrent and my soul is screaming at me for hurting you like this, but I’m torn because equally I need to protect myself or I won’t be able to do the things I need to do, and above anything now, I need to focus and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry….I wish things were different.

I’m so angry, my love (if you will still bear to allow me to call you that, after such betrayal, and I know, I know I don’t deserve to ever even speak your name again for this because…NO! No…I didn’t lead you on. I promise you that! Absolutely promise. Ack, but what is a promise even worth from a cad like me. Ohmigosh, I’m breaking, love, I’m breaking and all I want is for you to hold me and make it better but you can’t and I can’t and this hurts too much). I’m angry. I’m angry. Rage is boiling inside me like molten lava and each wave of anguish is sinking through my bones, red hot and painful. So painful.

I hate that this happened. I hate that I ended up in this position where I have to say goodbye and it wasn’t even my fault. FOR ONCE, my love, it fucking WASN’T ME. It was circumstance or happenstance or whateverthefuck happens when you’ve finally just gotten comfy and began to trust and open your heart to the beauty of relationship and…this is too much…just wait…I’m going to be sick.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh this hurts. I’ve never hurt like this in all my soul. And this thing I can’t tell you yet, because I’m a coward not to say this personally…well I will…I’ll write from the place I’m going to end up. I’ll tell you, but I’m so sorry because it’s over and we can’t ever have this back, even once everything has settled down, if it does.

This has been my life, and I’ve loved it so much and I am in an abyss of despair because I know, I KNOW, I have to leave and have to attend to this shitty, awful thing and I’m so sorry, so sorry. so sorry. Shit I can’t even see, you know how much it takes to make me cry, and at the moment I can’t stop. I can’t stop and I hate this. I HATE THIS.

I wanted to keep you forever.

I wanted to be able to always tell you how amazing you are and that I adore you and that…oh just EVERYTHING.

You’ve made me come alive. You’ve been the most incredible thing which has happened to me, and you’ve breathed life and light where before there was darkness and doubt but now the dark has come back and taken me whole and I will never get out and I’m so sad. I’m so sad.

I can’t bear to ask your forgiveness for this. I know I don’t deserve it and I know that were the roles reversed and you suddenly disappeared the way I am…I could never…I would hurt for ever and I’m so sorry because I don’t want you to hurt for ever because…you know how much I care, how much I cherish and love you and it’s killing me to do this.

There will only ever be darkness from here.

I had no idea I’d ever have to do this. No clue that I would ever have to break you this way, or be broken so cruelly.

This. Is. HELL.

This is why I was so slow to trust and so afraid to love and…fuck, you should have been, too.

I’m so sorry.

So sorry.

So sorry.

I love you.”

 

The world turns dark around me and I see nothing, hear nothing. Not the letter in my hand, which falls to the floor. Not the howl of rage and hurt and anger which erupts into the room. Not the unimportant things of our former life – trinkets, photographs, cups, crockery, pictures, furniture, which I throw violently against the walls, across the room; away from me as far as I can manage. Not the walls, which buckle and smash through to black, eventually giving way to my determined fists. Not the doors, which finally fall under kick after kick after kick. I want to hurt. I want to break. I want to destroy.

Because I have been destroyed.

The howling continues, wave after wave after wave of pain, pouring from my lungs, cracking my vocal cords, yet I feel nothing. I hear white noise. My blood is turned to bile within me and every part of me is reeling, dizzied, anguished, starved of oxygen and hope.

I am destroyed.

Eventually I collapse, thudding to my knees, the howling turned to keening in the splintered ruins of our life. Gradually my vision returns and the world around me seems tilted on its axis – chaos; unrecognisable – it is not my life. Not any more.

I am destroyed.

And as I survey, through eyes which burn and flood and wish they could erase what just happened, I realise that red has spattered the brokenness too, and as I look down, I see hands covered in blood; lacerated and already swelling black around the broken bones.

I feel nothing.

I am destroyed.

 

Warning

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116 thoughts on “Swansong

  1. I read this a week ago and died a little at the end. Just coming back ’round now to comment and tell you how much I loved it.

    Incredible piece.
    Incredible!

    With heart,
    Dani

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I started reading and then…NOPE!…..scrolled all the way down to the bright yellow sign. I had to make sure, you see because that was headed to a bad place very fast. I feel better.

    Still, an incredible piece of writing. No surprise there. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • Did I getcha going? Thing is by now, y’all can see that I’ve written again already πŸ˜‰ Hehehehe and NOOOOO I couldn’t ever! Not now. I’d miss my people ENTIRELY too much.

      Like

  3. I’m getting better at knowing when you are writing fiction, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful. I’d love to spend a day in your brain, wading around in the words. (That’s meant to be a compliment, not creepy.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Heheheh well I wish I could show you a tour. That would be cool. I don’t find it creepy cos I often want to lick Helena’s brain. And Samara’s. And Gretchen’s. Cos their minds are incredible. Maybe *I’m* creepy.

      Glad you figured this one out πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      • Missing you, too. My almost 2 year old nephew is staying with us this week. I get bits of 2 minutes here and there between cries and messes and taking care of him and still do the necessary things around here, like taking in stupid stray cats. πŸ™‚ talk soon.

        Liked by 1 person

        • HA! I saw that you did that. You have a big heart and one I’m proud to be friends with. If that makes sense. Dyanne would be proud of you πŸ™‚

          Have fun with your nephew. I bet it’s gonna be FUN to have a little one again, for a while.

          Like

    • πŸ˜‰ Indeed so. And it *did* arguably devolve into more of an obvious story. I kind of count on people missing the opening quotation mark at the beginning of the piece, which I wouldn’t use with my own voice.

      Like

  4. Ohh me gosh….. Lizzi! Threaded to punch you….. hmmm I may, I might, I pray you don’t fight. (yea I read some of the comments) πŸ™‚ Thank goodness for the disclaimer…. really now!

    But this is actually some splendid bit of fiction. WOW!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This is the kind of writing that speaks to someone. Something so dark and horribly twisted and you hate it so much because you’ve been there before yourself. I felt so sick reading this and I don’t even know you and I was aching and hurting for you… And then I see it’s fiction and I’m super happy it isn’t real. This is the kind of fiction that wins awards, love. Good stuff. β™₯

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ouf, thank you so much! I’m glad you were alright at the end. I DO make sure I let people know, because in the beginning, when I started posting this kind of fiction, there were a few people who were REALLY upset because they thought I was writing as me. I made the warning sign so they’d know for definite that it was just a hoodwink.

      Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback. I really appreciate it.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Bazinga! Now I’m grinning again. I’m gonna head to Facebook soon and see what kind of music there is to face. I already know there’s a message awaiting me from Helena…

      Thank you for such awesome feedback, BW ❀

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I am in awe…
    And I am still somewhat shaking in the pain and turmoil that weaved this amazing piece together. Heaven only knows I have been in this exact place and it was nearly 4 years ago I had this frenzied hurt swirl around me.
    But I survived and I hope the character in this piece did too

    Liked by 2 people

    • Ack…I hope I didn’t set off too much in you. Now I ACTUALLY feel like a bit of a bastard, and not just a cheeky, hoodwinky one. Sorry, Sunset.

      I don’t know what happened to my characters…I ended them both right there.

      Like

  7. I am so glad that I scrolled down to be FRIST or secornd as it is because I saw your yellow warning before I read, which made it a little less…stressful? I agree with the other comments that you sucked me in and made me believe you were possibly quitting the internet, or blogging, or something, but in the back of my mind, I heard whispers of “warning fiction.”

    So having said that, you are never allowed to quit the internet or me. So you know.

    Beautiful writing here, full of feels and flows and so easily believable and gripping. Well done, you. I hope you’re sitting back in your writer chair snickering at all of us (them) fools for taking your bait.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Believe me, I’m feeling like a complete bastard, and I’m grinning my head off. Thank you so much, and even though you got a sneak preview of the hoodwink, I’m kinda pleased because I don’t want to add to your stress.

      I won’t quit the internet – too much of my heart is wired to the people at the other end of it. And I won’t quit you, no way. I’ve made note πŸ™‚

      Like

        • Thank you. That’s an immense compliment, and I know it’s arrogant and probably makes me a bit (or a lot) of a tosser, but I can write well, and I enjoy being able to. It can be learned though – I wasn’t born with it πŸ™‚

          Like

          • Okay, I think my reply just disappeared, but if it didn’t sorry for the repeat. I have my moments and I know I can write, and sometimes I find that magical place where the words come together in a way that gives me chills. But then there are the times that I read people who have the alchemy of words–the ability to bring together emotions, metaphors, and descriptions in patterns beyond anything I can imagine. Then I am tempted to throw up my hands in surrender. I keep at it though.

            Liked by 1 person

            • I feel the same way. I suspect we all do, sometimes. At those times, I step away, have a cup of tea, and come back to it later.

              You’re published. You’re a writer.
              You blog. You’re a writer.
              Words are in your soul. You’re a writer.
              You’re a writer.

              And if we all writ the same it would suck, anyway! I have my writing heroes, same as anyone πŸ™‚

              Liked by 1 person

  8. You are amazing. You so completely and utterly sucked me in, because the way you wrote it, the completely and perfectly raw and unpolished way that you wrote this was so completely real and human – so much more so than something that was contrived. Like unbelievably good. I don’t think anybody has the courage to write like this, because perfectionist would say that it’s sloppy and bad writing and whatever. But this is exactly what that kind of letter would look like. So fucking perfect. Well done. PS you scared the shit out of me. Couche-tard.

    Liked by 1 person

    • *giggling out loud* Yeah I know and sorrynotsorry…. that is PRECISELY what got Husby all grouchy at me – because it’s tangled and badly written and confusing and so raw, but it was SO much fun to write and I suddenly got overtaken by the writer devil and just wanted to be a complete bastard about fiction.

      Thank you so so much for your feedback and for reblogging and (please) for not hating me for hiding from everything for a bit while this went up πŸ˜‰

      Like

  9. Lizzie…I feel like we’re not sure if this is a true happening? Are you leaving social media because something terrible happened? That’s how I’m reading this. I’m so so sorry for whatever it is. Focus on yourself and whatever it is you need to do. Life changes on a dime (clearly, by your post) so you never know. Hang tight, hang on.

    Liked by 1 person

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