Was it a Dream?
It was just over a year. Longer perhaps, but definitely went over the year mark.
The beginning was happy. Not new and shiny happy, but more of a comfortable fit of a favorite pair of jeans. The kind of happy where the world finally makes sense, and everything that lead you to that moment was just part of the journey. The kind of happy that made you feel as though you have arrived home after a long time.
I still feel that way. One look, a touch, sends me reeling back into the feeling of comfort and safety. The feeling of belonging.
I made a choice, I walked away. I gave up.
A year and no one knew, at least not anyone I was friends with. I was hidden in the shadows like a terrible secret. A secret that one is so ashamed of they almost try and forget that it ever happened. It was happening though. It was there. It was real.
Or for the most part I think it was. There is no evidence that it ever happened. No social media comments or social reality. According to the world it didn’t happen. Life continued and no one knew the truth. If the truth is what the collective think, then the truth is that there was no relationship. Of course there were reasons for all of the secrecy, but as time went the reasons started to sound like the logic of a child.
Then the disappearing acts started happening. Hocus pocus, abracadabra and alakazam. Gone for a day, a week. Almost a month. I was rejected. Not even important enough to be included. Heaven forbid I point out it was wrong. May I be struck down for saying that I need attention too. Why did I not understand what was happening? Why couldn’t I just let it be?
Why does all of this have to hurt so much. Five minutes to delete everything from my life.
That is all it took.
Five minutes to delete a couple of digital photographs that no one ever saw. The only evidence that may have proved that something had happened.
Was it a dream? Dreams have happy endings.
No, this was more like a nightmare. A place where I did not exist. Where I was not as important as anything else in the world.
My significant other was my world and I was not even on a list of priorities. I existed only when and if I was wanted, like a toy which could be discarded at any moment.
This is not the first time, although it may be the first time I gave away all my love. The question is rather why do I let this continue? Why do I try and justify being treated with such disregard? Do I really think that little of myself that I would stay and be treated like a ghost?
No. I do not. I walked away.
I may have left my heart behind but I walked away.
And there is not even a photograph of us to prove that it wasn’t a dream.