The Last Word

Dammit.

Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!

Have you ever had a conversation in your head? Have you ever wished you could have the last word? Have you ever just begged for closure?

Sure, you have. We ALL have. The interesting thing is that all three of these things can be exclusive of one another, or they can be intertwined.

Guess which one applies to me?

Yeah. Big surprise, because THEY ALL DO.

The conversation in my head begins with:

(Piano plays softly in the background)

Him: If there was ever ONE moment when you didn’t believe that I cared, or valued you, or thought you were beautiful, then it’s MY fault and I want the chance to make it right. Because I’ve fucked this up in the past and I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.  Moreover, YOU DESERVE IT.

(Music gets louder)

Me: It’s true. There were times that I felt neglected. There were times I felt that our relationship was one-sided and that I was just a piece of ass (albeit a fantastic one). And there were times that I wished you would say all the things I wanted to hear, but without the prompting and pleading and ultimatums.

Him: I love you. As hard as it is to say that while feeling like a lout, it’s true. And you are one of the most beautiful, amazing, funny women I have ever had my hands on. You’re even funnier than I am, as hard as it is to admit.  In another lifetime, I’d be shouting your name from the rafters and letting everyone know how lucky I am that you let me bury my boner in your lady parts.

(Music swells to a crescendo)

Me: That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Babe. Now fuck me like I’m about to be deported, damn you!

(End scene)

Yeah. This is never going to happen. Same with the scene where I chew him out and he apologizes. Ditto with the scenario where I walk away with my head held high, knowing I’ve made a difference in his life. No “last word”, no realization of my “inner dialogue”, no “closure”.

I once told him that I’m a woman and as such, I need things like tampons and love songs and closure. I have tampons.  Lots of them. I shop at Costco. And my IPod is full of love songs that he hates (because apparently he thinks I have the musical taste of a deaf adolescent). But closure? Nope.

And I’m not going to get it. He knows I love him. He knows that all that needs to happen is for him to OPEN THE FUCK UP, and Tinder (and all prospective lovers attached thereto) will disappear. But that’s not who he is. And I vowed to love him for both who he is, and for who he is not.

See, every man I chat with is compared to him and they’ve all come up woefully short. Related: I really hope that doesn’t apply in the intimate areas as well. Yeesh.  That would suck. Thing is, as fallible as THAT GUY is, he’s also pretty damn special and I spent YEARS trying to convince him of that.

When it comes to anyone in my life whom I value, my motto is always the same:

“Convince him about the things he never believed were true. Remind him of the things he’s forgotten he’s capable of. Reveal the things about him that he never managed to see.”

And I tried to do all those things, not just because I benefitted in a small way from his way increased confidence. It’s also because in the past he was hurt by a woman he loved very much and I wanted to make sure that he knew that he was worthy of love and affection and attention. But maybe he already knew that and I was just trying to make MYSELF feel worthy.

Ew. How utterly self-serving and arrogant that would be. Yuck. Sometimes I gross myself out.

WAIT!! (Trumpets blare)

EPIPHANY!! (Cymbals crash)

Maybe I’m not pursuing any of the avenues I spoke about at the beginning of this post because I’m a great big chicken shit.

See, if I don’t ask the question, I don’t have to deal with the answer.

If I don’t open the door, I don’t need to deal with what’s on the other side.

If I don’t peel the banana— nevermind… you get where I’m going with this.

Maybe it’s better if my dialogue goes unsaid (is that a word? It is now). And perhaps I don’t need closure as badly as I thought.

What if it’s for the best that I DON’T get the last word because, if the other two scenarios don’t end the way I want them to, that last word might be “goodbye”.

And yeah. That would really suck.