When someone hurts me, I don't think about revenge. I don't regret anything I have done or am doing because I know I've been good. I have suffered deception, have been deceived and I am very disappointed, that is clear.
Then I ask myself: What have I done wrong? I must've done something wrong, that is for sure...Or not...

Let's see: Have I acted according to my moral scale? Have I asked myself at any moment during my relationship with him if this or that might hurt him? Have I stopped to think if the decisions I've made have been given thought out or not? And the answer to all this is YES. Not in an obsessive or organized way, but confronted with important issues I do weigh out the pros and cons, at least for a day or two.
Not only do I think about me and what concerns me but also about the impact on the other person involved.
Then I come to realize that to him I have been nothing but entertainment, an object easily exchangeable. Something that sooner or later is just a stepping stone to the next episode. He didn't stop and think... he acted out of impulse, convenience... Convincing himself that destiny is nothing but what comes and hits him in the face. I don't believe for a second that he stopped and thought about how much he was hurting me. He would apologize like reciting a well learned speech...because that is what feels right, because that is what he thought would get him out of the dog house... because that is what he thought as politically correct.
But not for once, because he meant it. You can make a mistake and regret it, but if you keep on making it over and over then it is no longer a mistake...it is almost a pre-meditated slow and painful killing of the heart.

My first reaction over things now is shock, regardless of how many times I hear things I'm never prepared for the next blow. Immediately after that a numbing nauseating feeling in the bottom of my stomach starts to arise. They say the postman rings twice...and then not happy with have broken the chain (was it a really a chain?) trying to pretend that it isn't really the way he acted but just the circumstances (very archaic like the beast he is). He would, in a very pathetic attempt, clear his conscience, offered his half assed contradictory apologies that did nothing but worsen the situation. He broke my schemes, broke my peace, that one I had even if it was for just one night of restful, nightmareless sleep.
I wake up every morning and little by little realize that it's not too bad to lose a person that has no word.
I can take a low blow or two, some come in as easy as if hitting clay but you know what,some bounce against the unstable little mud barrier that I have been working hard at creating and is drying and getting harder every day.

And then he comes again tipping over my schemes and I feel like responding but I know for a fact that no matter what I say, he will perceive the hurt I carry.

I haven't forgotten him, but they say time heals everything. Now, I tighten my jaw and I contain myself so that I don't respond to the provocations of knowing him by her side.