Mail me here: MBard

Promise

I wasn't going to let it happen again. I was to stay resolved. The one promise I wanted to keep to myself because I couldn't keep any of the others. Not the drinking, or the smoking, or even the eating thing. I broke them all. So this one I was going to keep. Like it would really prove something, like it really mattered what other people thought of me and my failure to keep all my other vows. I thought that it mattered to me, that’s why I made the stupid promise in the first place. Turns out that I couldn't keep any promises, not ones made to others and especially not ones made to myself.

I fell in love you see. And that’s what I didn't want happening again. I did not want the burden of someone else’s heart when it was obvious I could hardly keep my own heart beating. I did not want to make promises to a person that I knew I could never keep; I hadn't kept them in the past after all. I probably should have known better not to make one to myself if I'd looked at my past record but like an addict says to herself 'one more time won't hurt', I made and broke one more promise. Paving the way for more of the same.

I wasn't going to fall in love again. Relationships maybe, casual encounters yes, one night stands of course, but love no. I could be with someone and not love them as long as they knew this was the deal. Not out to hurt anyone but myself I once told a girlfriend who was screaming at me for breaking a vow she thought I'd made. We each are in control of our own feelings, I told her, and if anyone gets hurt then its there own fault for giving their feelings over to another. She didn't agree. We fought some more. She cried, I couldn't. She left. I stayed. But I wasn't in love with her so I kept my promise. Which had become the one thing that governed my life now. My guide through the days of eating nothing but Snicker bars and smoking too many cigarettes. The grail I sought every Thursday when singles night came upon me like a drug that was too intoxicating not to take. But it didn't matter as long I had my rulebook with me, my sceptre, my fleece, my bible, my ball and chain. Locked with no visible entryway. They couldn't touch me then. Well sure they could touch me but not my heart. They never could get my heart. That was the rule, the promise that I made. You can get my body baby, but my heart along with it's sister soul, belonged to me. That I promised to myself after the last time.

No need for grand gestures of abandonment, dishonesty and betrayal. It wasn't like that at all. No one got treated unfairly in the eyes of our respected friends so no one suffered rebukes and recriminations. In fact I am still in touch with this love. That's how amicable it was. Strong enough to withstand being friends after sharing so much. After sharing endless nights together, exposing our hearts as well as our bodies. We had built enough of a foundation to remain close friends to this day. So why the promise? If there really was no reason to feel embittered by the words 'I love you' why avoid them as much as I do? A break up does not have to be messy to exhibit signs of regret. It doesn't follow just because you can have a civilised drink with your ex that you won't feel scarred by what went before. This is what no one can understand. A love that was so strong to leave us both the best of friends can leave destruction in its wake. Maybe I am not over this love of mine. Was it a mistake to break up? Should I have fought harder to maintain the warm blanket of her embrace? Yes, probably I should have. But I didn't. When people ask me why I parted from this deep love of mine I was tempted to invoke a cliché from a dyke movie I remember watching as a kid 'It drowned in still waters' or some other such bullshit. But I always told the truth, we just stopped trying with each other, not loving, just trying. And that's why I made the promise. If I couldn't fight for such love then I don't deserve to be in love. End of discussion.

Only that isn't the end. How can it be? Love is like a predator; it doesn't care about its prey. It only cares about being fed. And when love decides upon you to feed, all discussion about avoidance and denial flees and hides. What is left is just an empty heart that is begging to be filled and a fear that once it has gorged itself upon you there will be nothing left but the emptiness you felt before.

The end