He came back last night, and nothing ever hurt me so much. Standing on the darkened doorstep, the sound of the doorchime echoing through the silent apartment, startling me out of my normal evening routine. I wasn't even particularly thinking of him anymore, when I opened it. And there he was.

And the memories and feelings hit me like a freight train, crushing me under the weight of what I'd lost. What I discovered in that instant I wasn't sure I even wanted again. And still, more fool I, I let him in.

"Are you...?", my words just fell into silence, as I found I had nothing to say, nothing I wanted to ask. Did I want to know why he was there? No, as it turned out. I knew what he was there for. The real question is whether or not I wanted to be that person again.

I waited, to see what he'd say, to see if he'd even bother with an apology. He moved toward me, to hold me, to try and return to the way things had been. And I moved away. It wasn't going to be easy. Things changed, I changed.

Sometimes, things can circle around, and go back and rings within rings can make connections. And sometimes, things just change. And sometimes things can break so many times, that at a certain point, no amount of glue can repair the damage anymore, and cracks show through, and the precious glass shatters into myriad pieces, to never be repaired again.

And sometimes, if the glass is placed under intense fire, it will melt into something new, and sometimes the new art won't look the same. It will meld, and it will change, and it will morph into something entirely different. But different doesn't mean it can't be beautiful and unique. It simply means it is no longer what it was. And the process of tempering it, will make it stronger, because the cracks that were there, have been removed, and the piece is whole once more.

And I looked at him, standing there. With his beautiful eyes, and the body I loved so well, and asked finally, "Why are you here? There isn't really anyone here that you want, is there?", and watched as he stared at me in confusion.

The idea that I'd finally reached the place where I didn't desperately want or need him, or throw myself into his open arms, was beyond comprehension. The concept that I wouldn't just sit, and wait until it was convenient for him to come back and dust me off, and use me again, that didn't make any sense. I could see it in his eyes.

Women didn't get over him, he got over them. He chose when and where and how it ended. And I did the unfathomable, and simply didn't care anymore. I looked at a man I would have willingly walked through fire for, and felt...nothing. Less than nothing, when I realized I couldn't quite work up enough concern to even ask how he was doing, or any of the common courtesy questions that one asks an acquaintance.

And he talked, because he never lacked for his poetic words, beautiful words that meant nothing, and when he ran out of those words, I let him leave. Because it doesn't matter anymore, and then it was over. There was nothing left to try and save. The feelings were all on my side, and all his pretty words were lies. Certainly, he would have preferred it if he'd been able to get laid again. For I was good at that, and there were side benefits to it. But we weren't even friends, it was nothing more than a convenient outlet for him, which I suspect was truly why he was here.

He isn't capable of being honest with himself enough to admit that. He never will be able to be honest enough to see a lot of things about himself. He will continue to go on his way, and manipulate and use the women who fall prey to his charm, and the beautiful words he can speak and write, and then be left behind when he grows bored, and moves on to the next one that he falls in love with.

And that's fine, as long as the victims aren't me. Let someone else pick up the pieces of the poor, shattered man that he portrays. Let someone else comfort him in the middle of the night, and try to take care of him. He took everything I had to give, and gave me absolutely nothing in return, and it took me a very long time to see any of it. I made excuse after excuse for his pathetic behaviour, and made myself into a fool, and made myself available to be emotionally destroyed.

Epic fail on my part. No more.