-Do you know what you are??? (Liv screaming at him, infuriated and exhausted from all the drama). You are that little scrap of shit that you are trying to squeeze out when taking a dump but you can’t … and you have to jiggle it a bit as it dangles above the toilet seat … you know … in order to give it a little push … otherwise you are faced with the clear understanding that you will be walking all day with your panties dirty and a burning and itching asshole. And that is not a grown up thing to do, Mark! It is not a grown up thing! Grown ups are supposed to be able to clean after their own shit! I am supposed to be able to clean my own shit!!! I don’t want to go around all day with an itchy butt hole and dirty underwear. I don’t want this life. Do you have any idea how it feels to be painfully aware of the fact that someone else is the centre of your universe??? to willingly accept this and furthermore, to do everything that is in your power to advance, enhance and multiply this feeling??? no, you don’t!!!! Because I made you feel special and needed and wanted and desirable and … and … I created you, I subjected myself to your jealousy and possessiveness and to your disease.
I unconsciously and consciously agreed to submit to your toxicity, I waited for you to change, I …. I … I (deep breath) allowed my sheer existence to become secondary to whatever it was that you wanted or needed. I ignored the signs, I ignored the bruises, I ignored the venom that was growing inside of me, I became this pathetic, deplorable, stalking woman whose only happiness arises when the object of her desire “honours” her with its attention and passion and presence. I hated you and I loved you with the same intensity that a rabid dog bites one of its victims. I spent countless days and months wondering how can I change and what can I change about me that would make you love me more and want me more. I wrestled with my demons on my own while I was unloading onto you the toxic waste that was piling inside of me and that I was unable to process and that instead lead to the beatings, and the insults and the utter and complete satisfaction of knowing that I was just as able to hurt you as you were hurting me. (she starts crying) And I got lost, I wandered off from my own path and turned into this bitter, lousy loser who couldn’t see what was right in front of her. And trust me, I know, now I know that what we had was so common and so sickening and … I mean … we started out thinking that our love and deep connection would overcome anything … and yet somehow I ended up … do you remember that one time I told you that my ex’s penis is bigger than yours? and you started crying … and I enjoyed it … I felt good that I was able to make you cry because I was so tired of my own tears, of my own drama, I needed to bring you down, to see you hurt, and I relished it, then I felt sorry for saying such a stupid thing, for making you cry so I did the only thing I knew would help … I told you “let’s have sex, I’ll make you feel better, I will wash all my words away with my extensive knowledge of your body and sexual desires”. How fucked up is this, Mark??? why in the name of God did we let it go so far? and then the beatings started … just another one of the many ways in which we chose to destroy each other.
You couldn’t control your anger while I was unwilling to show obedience to your rules. And you exploded, on my dad’s one year anniversary of his death you were in a club dancing and having fun while I was alone at home … I went mad that night, I begged and I cried for your attention, I had hoped that you would care enough about me to not let me be alone and miserable. I came to the club and … well … we both know what happened next, we got home and we fought and I unleashed the beast that we both had created, spewing vitriol and engaging in fist fights until you knocked me down and started to hit me with your feet … crouched on the floor, swollen and bruised I cried asking for your forgiveness … because that’s what women do when their boyfriends refuse to show compassion and empathy towards them, that’s what women do when their boyfriends beat them and turn into a savage animal … they ask for fuckin’ forgiveness!!! Three years had gone by, three years and nothing had changed, we grew more and more accustomed to hurting each other and lost sight of how manic and dysfunctional our relationship was. The sex was great, though. Best ever! apparently guilt forces one into some passionate, steamy, uninhibited sex. I’m almost sure that this is what kept us together for so long, we needed to release our anger and frustrations towards each other through sex. What we gained in exchange were a couple of hours of happiness and free-flowing endorphins that would magically erase the previously experienced tension. Basic chemistry, right? It’s just that … there was nothing basic about how we communicated and interacted … I mean we did communicate and we did get along very well in the beginning, however, we slowly and gradually stopped listening to each other, we stopped seeing each other as human beings … we become each other’s punching bag. I hid from everyone, you did the same, in public we were a normal couple … (ironical tone) …whatever normal means these days.
So here we are today, older and wiser, apparently. I have to get away from you if I want to have a sane life, if I want to be sane. You are not good for me! you do not respect me! and I don’t blame you, I showed you that I don’t respect myself. I helped you convince yourself of that. I never stood by what I said I was going to do: one day – “I wanna break up”, two hours later – “let’s cook something, let’s go out, let’s make love”; the next day – “I hate you, you are hurting me, I need you to work with me and not against me, why are you so angry with me???” like I said, I don’t blame you. I didn’t know how to be mature, I believed I was doing the right thing by trying to fix something that was unfixable. And I am so so sorry, I am sorry that I hurt you, I wish I had known better, but most importantly I am sorry that I went at war with myself. That I went against everything I stood for, somehow trying to convince myself that I was this version of me that I knew you needed … while all along I was growing apart from me … creating a crater between who I was and who I had to be. That’s why I don’t need you in my life, that’s why I need to be as far away as possible from you. I am no longer at war with myself, I might be going through some sort of peace treaty, we are still figuring out the details and points of discussion but I have one thing clear – every bit of me is focused, maybe for the first time ever, towards my psychological well-being. I have no desire to fight, to concoct strategies and devious plans to get you to be with me, to notice me. I am so tired of that. I am exhausted from running in the wrong direction. I realised how much I was fighting with windmills. There is nothing chivalrous and noble in trying to convince someone to love you. There is nothing to be gained in trying to change someone and force your will upon them. It took me so long to see this, it took me so long to let go of you or better put of my idealistic projection of you. I deserve so much better … you deserve … I don’t really know what you deserve, honestly. All I know is that I am beginning to learn how to clean after myself and it will take time. I take full responsibility for what I did and I accept the consequences. I will learn to live with them, and I am learning to live without you!