Maybe I am from the future after all

I'll never be able to encapsulate how I feel write now, no words I could ever amass from deep thinking or journalistic skill could accurately convey the horror I feel right now. It's a new pain I've become all too familiar with, although this time it's at its zenith, and I wish I could flick it's switch and turn it off as quickly as it was activated. The worst thing is the allegory for it that I played out, the worst thing is I was right, the worst thing is all of it. I can change nothing. I'm broken, the inner emotional workings have ceased, they have become overwhelmed and don't allow me to feel emotion, only broken, only empty. She was everything, a folly I implemented, a disaster I planned with meticulous strategy. I hate her, I hate the subtle way she began to define the importance in my life, I hate that her lies became my dreams. I hate that my humiliation was compounded by her, the one single entity that could undo all that is wrong, yet caught in the paradox that it was her creation. I don't hope he's worth it, I hope he fails, and that his failures lead her to destruction, that maybe he might represent such besotted importance to her that his betrayal could replicate my pain. It's untouchable this pain, it's somewhere in the stomach but everywhere at once as well. She has infiltrated my empire and tried to bring its biggest admirer to his knees. But I won't kneel, and I wouldn't let her escape unpunished. Her fears exposed and taunted, I have torn down the clothes pegs that held her worries, horrors and concerns high above in the sky, I have unclipped them and bought them down to earth, down to reality. Does she hurt half as much? Not half a chance.

I replay the narrative in my head, I show up with my only motive to rescue her, and she just blanks my request for her to leave. The boy I'm past kid about escorts us out and tries to smooth talk me, my eyes are swelling with anger and disappointment, the look of a loose cannon is etched across me, they can see it. She jokes that it's all a laugh, the drugs, the getting off, and it's all a lie, even the source of the drugs is a lie. I know it's him, no random guy gives out drugs, no-one sells drugs in clubs outside London. My dejection turns to humiliation and I see her skip back inside with them, her voice is fresh and full. I come back to attempt the rescue again, this time she's colder, she tells me no, she tell the bouncer I'm the jealous ex. I ring her parents and after my mates successfully talk the two boys into honest fear, I leave her to deal with the remnants of her mistakes. There's more to come, she still attempts to see the boys, that boy, the dangerous one. I jog a mile in the Arctic breeze to secure money to save her, all the while she's kissing him, dreaming of bedding him, I'm unaware but oh so sure. Then at mine the lies continue, and she bed hoow back to me to continue the fascade and leave me imprisoned in a web of lies, a web that's untangaling and is made more obvious by her accidental hints and mistakes. Her phone, it reveals not paranoia because you're not paranoid if you're right. She's trying to leave me, she's been kissing him, she has feelings for him, she doesn't want to be back with me. She still lies, and my head goes, and I cast her out, permanently. All the while she lies until the cover of a phone call gives her the confidence, and the cheek of her, she didnt want to hurt me. Still the prospect lies of our nothingness relationship, one that permits and encourages affairs and justifies them, how convinient. One day we can return, but not until feelings fade, if they ever fade. And I am left with nothing, just a chance at nothing and a bag full of hurt feelings and future suspicions. Why should I allow her the chance to destroy me again, she's strong now but I know she could be weak again, then she'd want me, but i don't want to be a medicine, a tool used for retaining her self preservation, something that keeps her calm and safe, I want more than that. I bet he laughs and laughs and laughs, he not only got the girl, but convinced the girl to laugh and laugh laugh at me. Promises are cast aside when fleeting feelings come into play, and he knows she wants him, and she knows she wants him, and I know she doesn't want me because he's fresh and exciting and new. But I am not finished, I have flaws and imperfections, but I have plans, plans from long ago that have resurfaced and rooted themselves in my ambition. I can be ten times better, ten times stronger, ten times quicker. It's hard but possible, and it's only gets closer and closer the more the situation deteriorates. How will she be remembered when the time has passed and her legacy in my existence is up for review. The girl who brought me back to the top? Or the girl who made the ultimate betrayal? The girl who hurt me more than anyone else? I want this kid to hurt, or do I? Should I not let this thing have her, it can't last, it won't last. Should I move on and find something different, someone safe, someone I know can fill the fresh made hole in my emotion yet safe enough to know they won't vacate it. How can you hate a man who is willing to take an unfaithful girl, shouldn't you pity him. He's aware, he knows, but then it dawns on me, he doesn't want her like I want her, she's an easy shag he thinks but he won't get that. All the while this happens I could be off into a new chapter and creating better times for me to savour. I know it's unrealistic, but I know also that after two ops, a gym and a lot of money that I will be invincible. I have the potential, I should fufil it and let her suffer for her errors. This night is impossible to forget so why start trying, instead remember the hurt and the pain and how you can't ever let that happen again. Deconstruct. Take away emotion from sex, have fun. Jump from girl to girl even if the standards drop, one good'un will come along for keeps, but don't ever let her close enough to destroy you like that, keep enough distance to full cement your position. It hurts right now but it will get better, I will get better, and then the last laugh will be with me. No player is bigger than the club.