I wonder sometimes when that feeling kicks in, the one where you’re about to go over the falls, if that’s just some illusion that your mind is tricking you with. Walking you down a path well trodden. Guiding you to some ecstatic mirage where you’ve missed the true oasis by miles but, that’s okay you’re drinking sand right where you belong.
Recently, I’ve been wondering if I’ve fallen in love with myself all those times. I wonder if what I saw in those eyes was just a reflection of the love I gave so willingly. This isn’t me being sad but, I’ve said I love you so many times I’ve probably lost count. Penned poems of heart songs and heartbreak. I’ve been getting better at relationships. I just don’t always know if I’ve been giving my heart to the right people.
And as I stand on the precipice of something new I have to ask myself is this all real again or am I doing this to myself if nothing else was right for me how could this be it? Is this how it’s supposed to be? Do we fall for self-idealized versions of others only to decide to stay or go when the sheet gets removed and we see that person in the garish light of day? If all of that is true, when do we learn to see that person for who they are at the begining and maybe not so late in.
What is a stage but a pedestal
They belong to life
An actor to the stage
And I just want to play the part that’s belongs to me
I want to surround them
To pull them into me and never let go.
That would satisfy only for a moment
A split second of selfish desire
It’d bring the whole thing down around me
Isolation and freedom in ruination
That I could have just one piece of them.
What would I do just to know.
Just to understand.
Just to know their name.
What do you do when someone puts into words a fantasy you didn’t know you’d long for? I mean everything else around you is just so complicated and this seems so right your breath catches. Is this what affairs are made of. Can two unattached people have an affair?
Have you ever wanted something so much you felt guilty? Like you were somehow cheating on all your dreams, things you used to want. Now you’re typing this and you can’t forget the words they said… Were you just settling for a life you thought you wanted?
Maybe it’s a pattern for me. Is it weird that I knew I wanted to write books in elementary school when someone else wrote one? Maybe I only wanted something because I watched someone else enjoying it. While that might be how it started, I know writing was made for me. Finishing a page makes me happy in ways I didn’t know I could be. The closer I get to completing a project the better I feel about my abilities. Now if only I could finish something.
Okay readers, I hope the start of your week goes well and your tax returns come swiftly. My friend is starting a new job and I’m so proud of her. It’s just nice to see that her hard work is finally being realized in the major way it should be.