I am 27: the walls have ears and so do people.

I am me, I am you, I am he, I am she, I am all of us; people. I change with the news, with the times, with my friends, with the trends, with your experiences and with mine…



Today I am 27 and I just got screwed by “love”.

You called me like nothing happened, but I knew you were ashamed because when it happened, you left without a word. No call, No note, No goodbyes. You just up and left. You were ashamed of what you did and you took solace in the fact that I wouldn't find out because you wouldn’t tell it. But walls have ears and so do people.

You came back the next day, with a sturdy gait ready to make things work between us. Realizing after your stupidity that you really did care. But I knew, for walls have ears and so do people.

I stood still. Back facing you, listening to Bob Dylan’s “The Times they are A Changin” through the speakers. Then I heard the sound coming through the closed doors behind me. Though the doors were closed, I could picture it. She was in front of you hunched over, while you did the "evil deed" clearheaded and sober. She was a good-natured girl that wanted everyone to love her. She felt if she consented to everything, she’ll never be resented. Bring no fuss and there’ll be no fuss. She never meant harm, but she caused it anyway. We agree she was wrong, but you knew you were too strong. You were too cute, too suave, too cool for school. Yeah, i know 'cause its one thing that drew me to you. She knew me quite well too. She was my roll out girl. She hated each second but she still couldn’t say no. I didn’t look in but I could hear. I recognized the voices but I didn't walk in. I turned on my heels, chin raised high, a woman unafraid to be hurt. Out of sight, I sat on the floor, a baby unafraid to cry. And so I did. I wept. The walls have ears and so do people.

I thought I would rave, be a lunatic, "fight for my man" who I suppose in reality was less than one. No, I’m a woman unafraid to be hurt learning that feeling this hurt, understanding this hurt and why I was hurt is what makes me strong.
I pulled her aside and said:

You, I know what you did.

She looks scared and tries to deny it, but...

I said again:

I heard it. I know what you did.

Timidly, she says:

I think I have a problem I cant say no.
I can never refuse anyone anything. I am so sorry.

Me:

When any man loses his voice in life, with it goes his dignity, his meaning and worth in life. If you claim you have no voice, then to me you have no worth.

That’s all I could think to say. That’s all I felt the need to say. A part of me felt sorry for her. I knew her struggle, I saw this trait in her even before any of this happened. I felt no animosity towards her, just pity. She wept.

When he came in I stared at him with a love that burned so deep and a hate the pierced right through my love for him. I said:

I loved you so much you know. I have never loved this way before.

I told him I heard. I leaned in to him and told him how i was still tormented by the sounds i heard behind the closed doors. I didn’t have to see, but I knew. He knew that I knew. She knew that I knew. The walls have ears and so do people.

I said, never once raising my voice in anger. Simply speaking because I was so weak from weeping:

It’s the worst thing you can do to me.
The worst insult one can ever bear
My brother’s girl and I was there.
No regard for me at all,

I opened the front door and said, half confused by what I was saying but saying it and hoping it made sense to him as it did to me:

It wasn’t brunch it was dinner.
I served you good food you served me poison
I died and you are staring at a corpse
The new me you’ve wrought
I have nothing left for you here so please… get out.

He storms out defensive and angry. Angry at himself for letting this happen, angry at me for not giving him a chance to make things right. Angry that his dream with me was not coming true, angry because he knew he fucked up but he didn’t quite know how to take it back. He knew I was hurt and it hurt him that he hurt me. He knew he was wrong, but instead of asking forgiveness, he showed his anger and frustration and in his defensiveness yells:

That’s it.
That’s it.
You’re just gonna walk away.
Fuck it then.
You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.
You don’t want to hear what I have to say?
Do you think I don’t feel bad about this?
The issue is not what I did, it is what led me to do it.
That’s what you should think about!
Fuck it!

The whole time he’s trying to walk away but he comes right back saying one thing after the other, then the next and the other. I stare at him. No emotion just drained.

Still drained and trying to maintain my composure I say:

Come in.
You wanna talk. Lets talk.
Come in.

He still shuffles back and forth. Not leaving but not coming in. I see the tears already streaming down his face. He fears the thought of losing me forever and is ashamed that I’m handling this situation much better than he is. He feels stupid by his reaction. He knows he’s wrong but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s looking away, wiping the tears. It’s his turn to cry. He looks at me and walks towards my door and in that moment I’m thinking only one thing. I feel his love for me. He had told me of this love at other times and i believed him, but i never felt it; not until this incident. He was consumed by a good love gone awry and in it he lost all inhibition trying to get my attention. What happened to old-fashioned communication? What happened to what you said about being honest, loyal, and outspoken? Did you lose yourself along the way or were you portraying yourself to me as the ideal of what you still strive to be. Now I see you better than I’ve ever seen you but how does it count when we are at the end of what we had.

My thoughts strayed:

I could never pay him back for this
This is the worst evil man could inflict
It is the hardest slap one could ever endure
The deepest heartbreak that has no cure
I was not sure what he would say to bring back "us",
or that my love, even still strong, could keep us on course.
I could forgive now but how could I forget?
Love wouldn’t do that.

Finally, he walked in.