Despite the way it makes my body hurt in anger. Despite every way my heart has crumbled. Despite the hurtful words and disrespect my ears have become so accustomed to hearing. Despite the constant disappointment. Despite the long nights arguing. Despite your inability to allow me in. Despite all of the ways you let me know I am not essential to your being. Despite the hot tears that always find their way to the brim of my eyes. Despite how I’ve layed, broken and crumbled on the floor.
I see your smile when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh around each corner. I imagine you’re here like you used to be.
I miss yesteryou.
It’s like the whole world is absent, out to lunch and I didn’t get the memo. I’m reaching, grasping for understanding hoping to find inner peace yet it continuously evades me. Every day I am weaker and weaker, every moment becomes more uncomfortable than the last. My entire being hurts, and though I attempt to hurl myself from me I can’t get far enough away. I detest myself and all of the faces I claim as my own. I’ve never seen so deeply in the mirror and this frightens me. I’m shaken, completely taken by this ugly realization. I cannot change the past, I cannot change the past, I cannot change the past.
So I lay here, battling these demons alone. I hurt.
What are relationships, really? Is the compromise always one sided; is one person always required to find a mute key for their emotion, to suffocate their feeling to sacrifice for the other?
I feel that every single “relationship” I’ve ever been involved in was somehow unequal: more give vs. receive, or vise versa. How can it truly be healthy to put yourself in a situation in which you are required to compromise yourself, your thoughts or your feelings to accommodate somebody else, somebody unwilling to partake in building any kind of bond? I’m just not sure I will ever completely grasp the concept when I always feel that something substantial and essential is absent.
It’s amazing how content I am to be single, how I always feel like a severely wounded animal viciously taken from my natural environment and encaged when in a relationship. I feel silenced, naked but somehow invisible.
I want to have an open line of communication, the ability to confide in and be confided in, yet I choose men that are completely emotionally unavailable. The very moment I find the courage to voice emotion, things tumble apart revealing the lack of seamlessness that was apparently there all along. It seems that broken souls somehow magnetize and multiply the confusion eventually only causing hurt to both parties.
Someday I want to find a future with somebody, unconditional and eternal love- maybe even children and the cliche’ white picket fence. Sad as it sounds, I’m just not sure it’s in my cards as I not only completely lose myself, but find it difficult to breathe in a relationship.
Sitting, mind wanders, ponders. The first and last time I’ve felt like this, & this will surely be for-never. Strange how you crept in unnoticed through a lobby full of people, stranger still how you’ve somehow managed to obtain what was never yours to begin with. I’m expelling emotion in unfamiliar verbal strings, reciprocation must follow. Broken, still waiting to exhale, to feel.
The twists and curves of this never-could-be have taken my ability to breathe, to think freely and I’m as uncomfortable as I’d imagine one would be laying on a bed of snails. Sunsets seem to come and go- months must be passing yet I’ve no perception of time. And still, not a word. My thoughts raging to and fro, to and fro, a seesaw of possibility vs. reality.
You’ve taken every inch of my being, planted your flag and sprinted away like a theif in the night. I remain captive, waiting on a change in the direction of wind. I need a sign to validate my feeling, something to allow me to exhale.
My chest hurts from all that it is withholding. Something has to give.
There was a girl I once knew- I admired her so. She knew exactly where she wanted to be and exactly how to get there. She was opinionated, outspoken and at times down-right inappropriate. Quirky and loud, sassy and eccentric. She was feared in a strangely admirable way by both men and women like. Always walked with her head held high, chest forward- if she feared anything in life, it was not outwardly obvious.
That girl was me.
& so it seems that somewhere along the way I’ve lost myself. Piece by piece, the small bits of myself that were the solid definition of my being have dissipated, leaving me slightly bewildered. I suppose this is what most refer to as a mid-life crisis, yet I’m hardly mid-life by standard. I’ve searched high and low, and it seems the more I look the more lost I become. My dreams are dissolving faster and faster, and I’m not sure how I’m continuously losing ground.
Where does one go from here, when progression is only regressing?
