Sometimes you get what you ask for. In my case: freedom. And while it is what I wanted, what I needed, that doesn’t make it easy. I’m a bitter cocktail of relief, anxiety, and heartbreak. I am no longer yours, yet… how do I convince my heart to believe that? And once I do convince it of that, how do I beat back the insecurity that is just waiting in the wings to fill the spot with a quiet voice that asks questions like “Will anyone ever love you again? Did you give up on your last chance for love?” The voice that is every ready to recite my faults until I eat, breathe, sleep, and live them. The voice that kept me trapped in fear of the outside world for ten years. The voice that wears my face and keeps me trapped in the mirror - like a Happy Rhodes lyric, “there’s a very old mirror that I like to look into / it always shows me the old familiar face I loathe so well / And when I look back, it looks back too” - the voice that takes every positive and twists into something dark.
Maybe it’s just that I don’t know how to be single, and that I don’t know how to have a normal relationship - mine have been anything but. He told me he didn’t know where I got these ideas that I’m not good enough, or that I’m unlovable. He blamed himself. But to be honest, with both myself and him, they aren’t anything new. And when those ideas are reinforced by people constantly walking out of my life like I have the plague, or love not being enough to make a relationship work (twice over) it is hard to dissuade myself that it isn’t true. The older I get the more I think about seeking professional help - but that’s just another complicated barrel of monkeys I don’t really want to have to deal with at the moment.
Strangely enough, I didn’t come here to vent all about this, I came to write poetry. This is just what happens when my roommate is gone and isn’t here to ground me / provides an escape from this mental bullshit. She’s only been gone a day and I’m a blithering mess. Which is sort of what I wanted to write about.
My relationship with her appears unnatural
To an outsider’s eye:
More familiar than sisters,
Closer than the word friend implies
Yet - Not sexual
Although, plenty of people assume
That we’re lovers.
She keeps my world stable
Chases my demons away
Provides a distraction from the ever-running
Ticker-tape of thoughts filling my brain.
An anti-depressant that comes with no side effects,
But instead enriches my life.
Withdrawal is a bitch though,
The monsters crawl right back in
Jeering their insults, inflaming doubt
Trying desperately to set my world on fire.
I am set adrift in the Scylla and Charybdis infested waters
With no way of mooring my ship,
My anchor lost, and no safe harbor in sight.
Seven days will be spent fighting the -
ocean, monsters, and myself
Before I spy land.
Six more days…