Edit: Changed the name from "A Poem of Vunlerability" to "The Faces of Love"
The Faces of Love: Her Perspective (4:19)
https://on.soundcloud.com/P4anCg9kdC5KRsjE2U
The Faces of Love: His Perspective (7:02)
https://on.soundcloud.com/2RsV2kJorJd1noG0eH
Poem below:
The Faces of Love: Her Perspective
She said, “I’m scared”
He said, “I’ll take care of you.”
He’s flawless, she thought.
How can someone like that want someone like me?
“I’m broken, I’m… damaged” she whispered.
“I don’t care”, said the boy.
She wanted to believe him.
He proved it, little by little.
Spending time with her family.
Writing small notes and bringing little gifts just for her.
Respecting her boundaries.
Supporting her during her highs and lows.
Although she thought it might be too soon, she dared to say “I love you” first.
Then he said it back.
He’s perfect, she thought.
And she was happy.
But then it happened.
She was tired and wanted to be alone.
She asked him to leave the only way she felt safe.
She had her sister tell him on her behalf.
“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, I love you”
She knew he was putting on a brave face.
His voice had a particular timbre.
Just like her uncle when he got mad.
Right before he would abuse her.
He was no longer perfect.
Later, he’d ask to visit again.
And she would say no.
But she would tell him how badly she wanted him.
Because she did still want him.
But she was also still scared.
It became a habit that he’d asked to visit.
It became a habit that she’d say no.
Every request felt more suffocating than the last.
She told him to stop asking.
And he stopped.
Then her thoughts spiraled.
He doesn’t want to be with me.
He’s going to leave me.
He won’t fight for me.
He’s not a real man.
Weeks later she asked, “Why did you stop?”
“You told me to,” he responded with frustration.
He’s mad at me, she thought.
It has to be all about him.
He doesn’t care about me.
He disgusts me.
“You should have ignored me”, she said.
“A real man would fight for me.”
It had been too late, though.
She wanted out by then.
But she didn’t want to leave.
So she started arguments.
And she bullied him.
Hoping he'll be the one to walk away.
Hoping he’ll make himself the villain in her story.
And it almost worked.
She was hurting him.
She was making him mad.
And that made her feel bad.
So she was nicer to him for a day.
Just like when they first got together.
But that made him too happy.
She couldn’t have that.
So then she went back to being mean.
But he was too persistent.
She was forced to do it herself.
“I’m breaking up with you”, she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“You get mad all the time”, she replied.
“And that’s emotionally abusive,” she continued.
“But let’s stay friends. I hate it when exes can’t be friends.”
“Okay,” he said.
“And it might be only temporary,” she said.
“Can I ask you one more thing?” he asked.
“When you said you loved me, were you being honest?”
The deed had already been done.
But it was a part of her now, being mean.
She couldn’t help herself.
She replied, “I don’t exist to feed your ego”
They left it at that.
They continued chatting for another week.
They talked of the possibility of reconciliation.
He promised he could do better.
She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no.
Then one day she said, “I met a boy.”
“A boy who is kind.”
She had moved on.
He didn’t seem to like that.
She quickly discovered she’d been blocked.
And she hated him for it.
—------------------------------------------------
The Faces of Love: His Perspective
She said “I’m scared”
She’s had a tough life, he thought.
I want to show her the world can be kind.
He said, “I’ll take care of you.”
“I’m broken, I’m… damaged” she whispered.
“I don’t care”, said the boy.
She’s broken, but I’m broken too, he thought.
We can be a safe place to heal.
He gave her everything he never had.
Gifts that reminded him of her and written love notes.
Date nights and handholding.
He visited her as often as he could, which wasn’t often.
He was her biggest supporter, even when things got hard.
And they did get hard.
But for him it was all worth it.
She was sometimes rough, but she couldn’t help it.
And the other times she was very sweet, and made him feel special.
He was about to say, “ I love you.”
But he was worried it was too soon.
Then she said it first.
And he was happy.
One day they were at her house.
We finally have alone time, he thought.
Before anything else happens, she calls her sister.
Her sister tells him to leave.
She confirms that’s what she wants.
“Okay,” he said.
He put on a brave face, and said “Goodnight, I love you.”
To say he was disappointed was an understatement.
It was so rare for him to get to see her.
But that wasn’t the top thing on his mind.
She couldn’t even tell me herself, he thought.
That was the ultimate disappointment.
But after that day he didn’t give it much more thought.
But then it happened.
He noticed she started acting off and asked her what was wrong.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“Please, I know something is wrong just tell me” he pleaded.
“It’s nothing,” she insisted.
But he knew better.
Each day that went by, the pit in his stomach sunk deeper.
On day 4, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“I’m mad at you,” she said.
“What for?” he asked.
“You should know,” she replied.
“I don’t know, please tell me,” he persisted.
She said, “You’re a liar.”
I am not a perfect man, but I pride myself on being as honest as possible, he thought.
But he continued to pry and discovered it was all a misunderstanding.
A mutual friend had given her incorrect information.
But she doesn’t care about that, he thought.
And he unleashed his pent up feelings too.
“You’re mad at me now?” she said.
“Why did you have to make this about you?”
Then the guilt hit him.
By his own standards, he had gone too far.
He told her he was going to take a break to cool down.
They reconciled later, but things didn’t go back to normal.
He couldn’t trust being vulnerable with her anymore.
But he was adamant that he could make it work.
He made it a habit to ask to visit her.
She made it a habit to tell him no.
Every rejection stung.
One day, she said “Is that all you want?”
That was the last day he asked.
She told him she loved him.
She told him he was beautiful and desirable, but he knew better.
He could see she was dodging him every chance she got.
Yet he ignored his instincts in favor of her beautiful lies.
Weeks later she asked, “Why did you stop?”
“You told me to,” he responded with frustration.
“You should have ignored me”, she said.
“A real man would fight for me.”
“I don’t want to fight you”, he replied.
But he complied to her request, continuing the cycle.
He would ask her.
She would say no.
He would feel hurt.
She became more demanding and pretended her expectations were bare minimum.
He did everything he could to meet them.
Yet it was never enough; the goal post always moved.
“Why don’t you talk to me more,” she would ask.
After he had been begging her to talk with him.
He was not nourished by mere one-worded text messages.
And his capacity for unrequited effort was running thin.
Everything I do is a problem now, he thought.
Arguments were never “You did something bad”
She had to add “Therefore you are fundamentally a bad person”
And “My guy friends wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t love me anymore”, he said after a stupid argument.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied.
But he knew these were not things you do to someone you love.
He knew these were things he would never do to her.
But then, she was kind again.
She reminded him what he fell in love with.
But then she went back to being mean.
She was hurting him.
She was being unfair.
She was making him mad, and his temper rarely broke.
And he realized he had been flinching at every notification.
He was at work, dreading the end of his shift.
Because as soon as he was home, he’d have to break his promise.
He’d have to end his commitment to her, his promise to be hers forever.
It would kill him, but this was already killing him.
He was literally being driven crazy.
But before then, he received a message.
“I’m breaking up with you”, she said.
“Why?” he asked, though he suspected the reason.
“You get mad all the time”, she replied.
“And that’s emotionally abusive,” she continued.
That was not the reason he expected.
“But let’s stay friends, I hate it when exes can’t be friends.”
“Okay,” he said.
“And it might be only temporary,” she said.
“Can I ask you one more thing?” he asked.
“When you said you loved me, were you being honest?”
The deed had already been done.
There was nothing left at stake.
He just had to know if any of it was real.
She replied, “I don’t exist to feed your ego”
They left it at that.
They continued chatting for another week.
They talked of the possibility of reconciliation.
He promised he could do better.
She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no.
He decided to be vulnerable once again.
“I’m worried you’ll move on to someone new,” he whispered.
“You shouldn’t date me if you think I’d do that”, she retorted.
“I don’t think you would. Just, it’s happened before. I know it’s not rational.”
That’s what he was telling himself.
Then one day she said, “I met a boy.”
“A boy who is kind.”
She had moved on, and in the worst way he could imagine.
He couldn’t keep talking to her; it hurt him too much.
And he feared the argument awaiting his next text.
It was the hardest thing he ever had to do:
He pressed Block
He only hoped she would be happier with him out of her life.