Letters To (C)Leo

This is the Dalai Lama. He knows compassion. You can't learn compassion just by reading. You gotta practice that shit.

Days ago, as I was packing up the ex's things, and I came across this book. We used to go to Goodwill for those sweet thrifty finds. I always searched for books while he checked the clothes. He started looking at the books with me. He'd fawn over the self help books. He'd pick one up, ask me what I thought of it, and I'd shrug. I'm not huge on self help books, but there are the exceptions. If it were that easy, we'd all read about enlightenment and nirvana and POOF it would be achieved. It is not that easy. It's far from easy. In fact, its hard as fuck. 

Stop buying books you don't intend on reading.

Stop playing the chameleon with  whoever you're with.

Stop pretending to be something you are not.

Stop looking for happiness and peace if you're not going to do the hard work.

YOU NEED TO DO THE HARD WORK.

I found out the cyclic habituations that are his jump from woman to woman to woman to woman is born from trauma. However, he fails.. he refuses to address this. Why? Because it's hard. It's going to take a lot of time and hard work to fix it, but when you run away from your problems, and you've been running for your entire adult life, you don't know how to stop. You perpetuate the same bullshit from one year to the next. You get older, your story never changes. Your baggage gets heavier, and your trail of destruction gets wider and harder to handle. 

And you fuck up a lot of really good relationships in your quest of personal destruction. 

Am I angry? YES. Do I have a right to be? Absofuckinglutely.

I know he put me through things I should have walked away from. I know that I coulda, woulda shoulda, but I didn't. I saw the good in him. I wanted him to see it too. Little did I know that he was trying to find the next suited target with other women at the same time. So as he was leaving one relationship, he was lining them up, and weighing his options to see whats going to give him the biggest bang for his buck. Apparently I was the unfortunate winner. I won the opportunity to take the abuse, sober or not. I won the prize of anger, aggression, and bullshit. I won the game of games. When things got hard again, he'd disappear. I found it was to recheck his options with the others he had passed up. Now, at the unknowing end of our relationship, he started the same thing over again. 

This was not fair to me, it wasn't fair to the women before me, and it's not fair to the women after me. I don't want anyone else to have to go through what I have. I don't want another woman to be duped by being love bombed, and promises of forever. The promises are never fulfilled, and forever never comes. The bad days you take in hopes of the good become more frequent as the glow of the good fades. It's hard, and no one deserves it.

I legitimately loved him, and I loved him hard. Even with all the bullshit, I swept it aside thinking that he's only angry when he's drunk, so I'll keep him away from alcohol. It's fucking tough trying to turn that love switch off, because it doesn't exist. Time helps. Knowing it was a game to him helps. Knowing there were other women helps. Knowing he's a liar helps. Writing about it helps. Getting it all out helps. 

So I wrote him the very last love note I'll ever write to him.