Voicemail

I gave you so many chances, and forgave you so many times. You said you didn’t find me attractive, and I generously forgave you. You said you would rather be lonesome than be with me and I forgave you. You said you didn’t think about a future with me, and I forgave you. I forgave you when you yelled at me and berated me as if I was a child. I disregarded everything. I allowed you to walk leisurely all over my peace of mind, in fact my lack of established boundaries voluntarily gave you permission. I sincerely wanted to be loved so much that I gave up on myself for you. You handled me like a child and I thought so highly of you. I would’ve moved to somewhere unfamiliar, but you couldn’t be bothered to carefully pick up the phone. You never appreciated me the proper way I undoubtedly deserved. 

You couldn’t be more delighted for me. It was customarily something to naturally make you happy. I couldn’t be extravagant because that would dull your shine. I couldn’t produce more money than you without you wisely saying some passive-aggressive comment about me not having a “real” job or “I work more than you or my job is mentally demanding.” I wanted to buy something for myself and the comments I would receive were “you can use that money for something else.” You were stuck in this superiority complex of knowing what was best for me and assuming my feelings constantly. I also felt like I was performing a playable character with you. I affectionately knew to promptly put my mask on and dance gracefully how you undoubtedly wanted me to dance.  I talked how you expected me to talk. You were okay with me if I wasn’t as happy. I had dimmed my visible brightness for you. You never acknowledged me as anything and I was always the last to  know. You would keep me out of the loop and act shocked when I would ask why. You would keep me close physically and emotionally and you considered me like a stranger. 

I deleted the historic photos of you. It was unspeakable torture undoubtedly knowing that willingly forgetting you is going to be a forever kinda thing. I finally fell out of sacrificial love with you. It took some time, but the time passed was my prison and my antidote. I felt hopelessly lost without you. However, I was also free from you. I knew I could escape, but I had to sacrifice myself to be okay. I gave up so much for you and that still wasn’t enough for you to stay. I avoided the mirror because I couldn’t face myself when I was with you. I know you paint yourself as the good guy that doesn’t hurt people, and you’re the victim in your story. You willingly gave me the proper courtesy of answering my frequent calls, because that was the least you could do. You would rather keep me a country away from you, and turn your back on me than to stay. You convincingly played your role perfectly. I fell for your antics and figured you out too late. I don’t think we will ever be us again, this is the end of the road for us. I genuinely know you’re not sorry. I merely want you to know that you don’t have to hear my pleading voice anymore. I gave up on you. I no longer was going to call or answer your calls anymore.

I’m sorry the number you have reached has a voicemail mailbox that has not been set up yet. Please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeeep……