• Mathura Hawley

scar


For someone with my life issues, having gone through abuse and rejection and who has struggled his entire life with trust, this is about as rough as it could get, and about as deeply traumatic as it could have played out. "

My last partner prided himself on being domestic, taking care of our apartment and our dog, even meeting me at the train each evening so the three of us could walk home together. He cooked and we divided chores in a pretty traditional way, with little conversation or fuss over who would do what. We did not fight over our place, or money, or plans. We did not invite others into our relationship, and we spent weekends upstate in the woods which we both shared as our happiest place to be - outside. When he broke down and left abruptly, this life was pulled out from under us. I assumed because we had just married, that any problems would at least be worked on, but for reasons of his own, he refused. I was left sitting in a big world created for two people, red-eyed and shocked. Luke had such trauma of abandonment that he ate and dug holes through the furniture and bedding. I began trying to accept the long, lonely nightmare of dealing with a horrific list of experiences shoved at me all at once: betrayal, abandonment and honestly, the acceptance of having trusted someone who then went on as if I never existed and who felt so little for me that he did nothing to ensure I got through his decision alive. For someone with my life issues, having gone through abuse and rejection and who has struggled his entire life with trust, this is about as rough as it could get, and about as deeply traumatic as it could have played out. I often describe it as a breakdown not a breakup. I was not even allowed in the details. I had to watch in horror as it happened to both of us. Hearing “Things happen for a reason,” or “Better to know now,” or any of those truthful things said at the time by people trying to quiet it down for me, was a little tough. When you normally break up with someone, it hurts and you both mourn and then proceed onward. When you are in a situation that is more like a combination of a car accident, a heart attack and a tornado, it takes more than a minute, a week or even a year or two. It takes until it takes. Every emotion you feel after should come with a first aid kit. Each new person you meet wears a mask you want to reach over and yank off, sooner rather than later. You are afraid of the dark that is trust, leery of words and promises, and you pull your hand away every time someone turns up the heat. I was the heart of that relationship that died. And my heart was generous, forgiving and full. And what my heart got in return was a few years of domestic comfort I may never have again, and a gigantic scar across it which will only appeal to someone who will see that scar as art. For now, I walk with my chin up and hope for the best while I continue to heal. I have some great days and sexy dates. But it happened. It was brutal. And yeah, I still feel pretty sad about it.


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Mathura hosts an LGTBQ+ Podcast featuring guests who've been through some shit 

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