Page 96 of Scars So Lovely

Page List
Font Size:

The difference is, I understand what I’m doing.

He’s predictable in the way he treats every element of his life.

Arrogant without substance.

The kind of man who fails and calls it independence.

It’s a pattern.

Men like him don’t grow.

They just relocate. Move onto the next thing.

It seems like he’s found his latest landing spot now. This one might even stick.

Someone just as insufferable as he is. There’s a certain symmetry to that. Two men convinced they’re the smartestpeople in every room they enter. Neither of them aware how transparent that looks from the outside.

But let’s be honest—how many ayahuasca trips does one man need before enlightenment? Because at the rate he’s going, he’s not finding clarity. He’s dissolving whatever structure was left in his brain.

Soon there won’t be anything left to fix.

One day, he might have to acknowledge the thing he’s seeking simply doesn’t exist.

No amount of therapy—no retreat, no self-help doctrine—is going to correct what’s fundamentally broken in him.

Despite his flaws, Ivy minimizes his behavior.

Reduces the edges so she can live inside it.

It’s a survival instinct—an effective one, in the right context.

But he’s not the right context.

He’s a misogynistic, condescending, self-appointed authority on a woman he’s never understood.

And worse—he’s comfortable. Comfortable speaking to her the way he does. Comfortable making her feel small. Comfortable occupying space that should never have been his in the first place.

And that—that is where his luck runs out.

He’s upsetting my Ivy.

My.

The word settles easily.

Naturally.

And in that sense, he is extraordinarily lucky. Lucky that the only thing I’m doing is watching. Lucky that distance exists between us. Lucky that I’ve chosen—for now—to be patient.

Anyone else who made her feel a fraction of that wouldn’t still be standing.

Would not be given the grace of continuing their life uninterrupted.

Wouldn’t be breathing.

What I’m offering him right now—this restraint—is charity. Nothing more. And it has an expiration date.

She needs to leave.