I wish I was a little more subtle then. Back then, I lacked the tact or empathy to care how my actions were being viewed. I wasn’t subtle in my withdrawal. In fact I was all but abrupt. I didn’t hesitate to show my disinterest, and cease feigning. Mine’s wasn’t a choice that revealed itself over time, but instead over night.
I regret not being subtle. Perhaps, and this is hindsight’s direction, if I was more impassioned with consideration, I would have been able to repair the damage already done. But, as I said before, hindsight and wisdom weren’t attributes unavailable to me at the time.
I didn’t care for her tears, her sobs softly pouring out from the closed bedroom door. Again, I lacked empathy as to the disrepair my actions were undoing. I was destroying EVERYTHING because I wanted better. I deserved, hell I felt I earned better–despite having given nothing but angst.
And still, knowing this then(and even now), I took what little emotion I had in reserves and instead decided to be as rude and abhorrent as possible. I lacked the ability to be subtle or regarded in my breakup. I instead did not care, and in my vacuum of unfeeling, of uncaring, I took all that she took from me–and pinched its nose until it choked under the water. I still don’t know why. She deserved…she did not deserve any of this…an enemy’s inveigh. But, I broke her, moreso, and left her there.
I lacked the subtlety to exit with grace, with an worthy explanation, with my name and our relationship in tack(or protected from the buzzards of contempt that typically appear weeks later). I broke her, and did not care. And for that, for my treatment of her, someone who loved me so, Karma took notice.
Karma kept her eye on me all this time.
I was her thesis.