At first when I left England I felt truly free, as I travelled northern Thailand I was both calm and excited, the future was filled with mystery and promise. It wasn’t until a little while after I arrived in Australia, that I began to feel the familiar weight of shackles on my soul. I was finally free of university and of scholastic responsibility, free or poisonous people in my life and I was free of the spirit draining country of England. In but a few days I had come to really love Melbourne, this city is alive like no place I’ve seen before. I had just moved into a beautiful home, right beside the sea. I had started a new job, a job I was proving to be good at and I’d begun making friends with the wonderful people I met there. The one thing holding me back from happiness now was the very thing that had once been my only source of light in a world of darkness. It was him.
I would have beautiful days destroyed the moment I returned home to an irritable and argumentative boyfriend. He’d have nothing but complaints for me, and about me. It seemed that nothing I could ever do was right and I begun to dread coming home to him. So I didn’t. As my friendships with my work colleagues grew stronger I started spending more nights on friends couches or bedroom floors than at the home I solely was paying for. While this provided short term relief it did make things worse for me when I would eventually find my way home. Snide comments and rude remarks about how little I was home became the norm and unsurprisingly just pushed me further away. The hostility and bad attitude that had completely distorted the person I had once loved destroyed almost all that was left of the affection I held for him in my heart. After thinking about it for some time I decided that I needed to end it. It’s a scary thing to do, to leave someone you’ve loved for so long, someone you share a life with. Someone who frightens you, just a little. I wasn’t frightened for my safety, it should be noted. I was frightened for how difficult the break up was going to be, the conversation, the dividing of our savings, the living situation. I knew this man very well and I knew how he was most likely to react. I was right.
I wonder sometimes in the dead of night as a I lay alone, I wonder if it was my fault that he became something so destructive, I wonder and I ask myself, was it me? Did I do this to you? Once a person of so much positivity, a beacon of light and good energy. Did I take your light? Was it me that took something so inherently pure and turned it into a being of anger and jealousy, calloused and cold? I suppose this is a question I will never truly know the answer to, speculate as I might. All that matters now is that I have allowed us both the chance to begin healing. To begin the return to our former selves, to release us both so that we might have a shot at freedom again. I can already feel the change within myself, baby steps towards a world no longer restricted and chained off from my desperate and grasping fingertips. Numb and bloodied I’ve clawed for this feeling my entire life. I’ve yet to see you reach for it. I wonder how I might have dragged someone down into this darkness beside me. Something I feared for so long, something you made me feel was impossible. Not so impossible, I can see now. I’m used to climbing out of this hole, I know where to look for footholds. It breaks my heart that as I turn and look back down from where I’ve come, I can see you there. Lost and confused, cold and alone, and angry, so angry. I can her your agonised roar echoing behind me as I make my escape. And all I can do is cry and pray that somehow you will find your way out. Forgive me love, if it is I that put you there.