True Blackmail made clear

The end that came was not what I had expected nor would wish on anyone. Hindsight may be twenty-twenty, but when it comes to the blackmail that I create and recast, there is something that must be said about hindsight. After the first bout with the boyhood innocence, I should have known better, that when you cast the net so wide and deep, you are bound to catch something that may not be suitable or inherently good for you. Yet I tried again.

So I forced myself to walk the streets to find it, I looked everywhere- under every rock (literally)… and everything that I found I took for face value without judgment and or second thought. God, I thought, maybe, let it be the one that I want. So that I don’t have to be like Scott T, my worst nightmare and his concocted character sitting on the Secondcup steps on Church. He talked about every weekly encounter, every nightly trade, like it meant nothing. I could not imagine that; my life would not be that and I would not allow it to be that. I have to have something better, better than this loneliness. So that is the root of it all, the real depth of the blackmail stems from that sole point. So I created you in my head, from the day we met to the last day I saw you, I thought you were the one, the one that would be for me- forever. But Ben Harper had it right, nothing is forever when you talk about forever and I should have known better. Well I did, my subconscious did, but my heart would not allow it. So I fell or rather forced myself to fall for your fake and insincere smile because I thought you had to love me. I could not imagine the possibility of rejection from someone like you but when that possibility seemed real, I could not conceive it. I thought I had spun the web along with my blackmail so well that it would not happen- it could not. No no it would not be possible at all. But in the end, it is I who stands with the broken something or other, coming to the hard and fast realization that the forced and imagined realities are nothing more than illusions. These will not be of comfort when you are alone at night.

I was alone at night and so I thought these words would bring you back; make you into my imagined reality. But in the end, you chose the path that was right for you and I am glad you did, as this is the right path for me. These words at that moment of weakness signaled a departure from the norm, a shift from the status quo and I thought that this would be enough. So I said Words are all I have left:


I miss your smile
I miss your smell
And I miss the way your mouth curls up when you sleep

I miss the way you drool
I miss the way you curl into my arms
And I miss the way you recoil at the thought of my tongue running down your spine

I miss us
I miss you
And worst of all, I miss the man I was when I was with you

So baby tell me please
That you are mine; that I am yours
And that we will get past this

What do you say my sweet gentile man
Or is that man nothing but a figment of my imagination
Concocted to fulfill those dreams of love and wanting

You say you want love
Love is all I have given you
But is that not enough for you to try and work through this

If not for you, I need not be here
And if I don’t have you, then I will not be here
So tell me baby, will you be mine now and maybe a bit more
Till the day we grow grey and cant stand no more?

And now that I read these words, I realize the falsities of the emotions that I once felt- false because it was heightened by my sense of not wanting to be alone, by my need to be loved and now all that seems so insignificant right now. As I reconnect with my family and realize the roots of my history; it all becomes apparent and insignificant- whether you loved me or not. At that time, I thought you would complete me to use the age old cliché, that your love was enough. But now, you are nothing but a sad projection of what I can have and what I deserve. So take your love, take your pathetic bisous and your TQM, please and leave me be. Leave my heart, leave my soul and disappear like the sand in the southern wind or so she thought me to say.

Keep your words, keep your love and take back your letters.

Take these words, take your sentiments of un-originality, take your smile and vanish as I am burying you in the depths of my heart and mind. And I realize that you are nothing but a projection of what I want and what I need, you were not able to give me what I need or what I want. Almost making you love me is not enough. And that is how it ended. You came with smiles and hugs, and then you told me that you did not want me. Then the true realization of the blackmail became so apparent as we eat those burgers. The life that I spent with you, the year and something seems so insignificant and almost worthless. But I must be true to myself and my feelings. When I think of you and us, I realize that you were looking for a friend, a friend that would give you comfort and strength, but not expect anything from you in return. But that is not reality and not being true to what we had. So reality kicked in, you pushed me away and took what was easy, like before. You had to protect yourself and decided to leave me in the cold. Yet the cold is what I needed to realize the reality of what I had done to myself and allowed you to do- blackmail. The truth of our blackmail is that we were not willing to tell the truth. I want what I want- my choices are way more important than you and your choices are way more important than me. So what we had was nothing but a façade that we both concocted to allow each other to flourish under the auspice of love. I can’t blame you and I don’t want to- but the reality is more and more apparent. You used me and I allowed it because I conceived you as someone who could not hurt me again, as someone who is true and faithful. But in the end, this was my own creation and my sentiments of love and affection were rejected in a tragic way, where you kissed me goodbye in the subway while it stopped at Dundas station and I thought I would see you again like before. But these are all my projections and I realize that you don’t love me and maybe, in my mind, you never loved me. And this is where it begins and ought to end. Where I realize the truth about my ability to create the blackmail and let you think that you can do whatever you want to… but in fact you cant. You knew it and I know it now, that you were not the one. But I thought I could make you into the one, that I could mould you into what I want- but that was not fair. So now I write, tell my woes and realize that my blackmail is defeatist and only self-deprecating.

And with these words, the true blackmail has been exposed and I realize If I am not for myself, who am I? And if I am only for myself, what would I be? And if not now, then when?