Can't you see?

He said to me, "Can't you see?" when I asked him to read me something off the board. My eyesight is too poor to see that far, and I wanted to explain to him that I was practically blind... but suddenly it seemed like words were far too much to explain how I felt, what I wanted, and it was suddenly much more than a homework assignment on the whiteboard.

So, instead of giving him a coy, convoluted answer like I would any other day of the week, I just looked him in the eye and said "No."

And it was the truth; I can't see a lot of things. I can't see how madly obsessed I've been, how I've excused his behaviour.

This last weekend he did something again, something horrible. I can't even say it. Needless to say, he's broken my trust. It's not like I can even mention it to him now, because it's none of my business.

But in a way, it is my business. Only because I've defended him at every turn, and I can't any longer. I cannot stick up for him after this, not after this. And I wasn't directly involved, so I cannot approach him and tell him what he's done wrong. I want to send him an email saying "Look what you've done! Look!" and hope that he does. But I can't, and I won't.

Now, I am turning the phrase around.

"Can't you see me?"

I want to pose this question to him, pose this question to him. Can't you see me? I don't think he can. He says he respects me, and that he is flattered that I love him. But he cannot see me, no more than I can truly see beyond his beauty. I am blinded by my love for him, and I cannot see his true self.

And it is horrible to admit that I no longer trust him, respect him, or even wish to be his one and only, but I still love him more than any other person I have ever loved.

And I cannot go on much longer being willfully blind.