Questioning Myself

I miss you when you’re not around. I don’t miss just the companionship. I miss you. I miss the silent comfort of sleeping next to you. I miss how you make me feel as a person; a woman. I’m just not sure if you miss me the same since you can go so long “without” me. Maybe I am a crack head for Love & that’s why I miss you the way I do.

Could it be the difference in our connections? The calming excitement of seeing you?

Too bad I don’t know if you get that excitement. Your body language tells me nothing. Your poker face scares me. I’m used to subtle signals of appreciation or admiration for my presence; not that it’s a present. You know a smile; a slow creeping grin when you see me. A soft slow hug to tell me goodbye/hello. An affectionate touch or whispered greeting. Something?

Am I spoiled to the notion that I deserve recognition for my being? Do I not give you that appreciation? Maybe I am supposed to be learning a lesson I’m missing through you?

I’m looking for those familiar signs. I thought were automated. Except you’re unfamiliar & your signs unrecognizable. Sometimes it’s like I’m waiting on you to warm up to the idea of me. Then when you do, it over; time to go home.

Am I not looking hard enough for the signs? Am I trying too hard to put you into a familiar category? Since everything about you is outside of my knowledge base of emotion?

I feel like I’m changing how I want to react to you to mirror your coolness…coldness…your “ness”. It’s like being on hold while you’re still moving; never know if you will want to hit play. The timer needs to ding because I want to be me. Well, me in love/like/hope.

Did I set precedence for not being me with you? Is our secret changing the dynamic of who I am; we are? Do I overlook my own feelings for my want?

The feelings I get when I’m with you are normal for me. Except I think they would scare you. Just the sheer amount of affection I hold back is monumental. We seem to possess two very different views of affection/care. Yours are optional & not necessary. Mine uncontrollable & life sustaining.

I feel like we’re working too hard to make “this”; whatever “this” is, work. Are we confusing lust for emotions? Are we ignoring obvious signs? Signs like personality suppression? Once we hold back who we are can we truly connect?

I don’t want that kind of resentment between us. We have a delicate balance to us. Except there is no we…us…unity. Maybe that’s why you never noticed the special allowances I made for you. I was giving you access to my feelings assuming we were equal. Well you know what they say…when you ass-u-me! Not sure about other women in your life. You’re so tight lipped. Maybe they possess the access I seek.

Is this karma for past indiscretions? Do you have a front runner while I am just a space holder? Is this the lesson I am supposed to be learning?

The Woman Behind My Eyes

I hear the click clack of my heels across the pavement. I see my hair whipping around my face. I see the gracefulness of my shadow leading me across the courtyard and I realize how glamorous she must look to an outsider. This woman behind my eyes with the confident stroll, the billowing hair and put together look. There must be a reason why when using my eyes I can only see my feet, my legs, my hands, my hair and a tiny bit of my nose.

 God must have known the trouble our eyes would cause. Because we can't see the things that cause us grief without assistance. I can't see my too big nose, my imperfect smile, my disproportionate earlobes or my misshapen eyes themselves. Only with a mirror can I see my imperfections. My lifelong arch enemy the mirror! I knew I disliked you from the moment I met you as a child. Even my innocence of not knowing my reflection was not another person, I knew you weren’t right!

So I started thinking. Why can't I be the woman behind my eyes? Why can't I be graceful, beautiful and confident? The woman behind my eyes is smart and funny, full of happiness and life. She is calm, well-dressed and breathtaking. She's the woman strolling across a courtyard in long beautiful step's hair billowing behind her with not a care in the world. She's the woman whose quick clacking heels are drawing attention as others smile because her hair billowing in the wind looks like something off a magazine.

Unfortunately I am not that woman there behind my eyes. I am the woman who stays in the mirror X-ing out everything she doesn't want to see. I'm the woman whose quick clacking heels across the courtyard draw attention that makes her nervous. The woman whose long strides are not poised for grace but to be hasty so that I may get out of the spotlight quickly. I wish I could be the woman behind my eyes so that the stares and complements I'm receiving would not make me ashamed but proud. So they could feel deserved or justified. I wish I could make the woman behind my eyes instill confidence in the woman inside my heart. Because the woman inside my heart does not feel deserving or worthy of any praises or accolades. She is insecure; broken by scar tissue. She has lost her sense of self-worth. If only I could make her into a woman that lies behind my eyes I could make me happy.

So I am going to try & reverse psychology the women outside my eyes. She is going to pretend to see the woman behind my eyes & then maybe she will pretend long enough she will believe.

All Thoughts Cease

It's easy when you're trying to forget about someone to put them out of your mind, stop thinking about them, erase the memories, quit being reminded of them, right?  Wrong. It seems like the hardest thing in the world; to stop those thoughts. You know the thoughts I thought, I thought were right. Too many thoughts! Not enough think. How do you erase those memories, those creases, those crevices of memorabilia, of thought, of if, of when, of past, of present, of thought-out fake reality future? Where do you go to hide? How do you stop it from being? How do you stop those thoughts? Those random thoughts, those familiar thoughts; those thoughts?  How do you take something wrong, that was right that wasn't right and get rid of it? Too hard. How do you make sense of it all? I don't. I can't. I wish, I could but I can't. Those thoughts they rattle in my head they blow around in there and they cause ruckus. They open drawers that say see that this once was and you once  were and this is how it should have been and then there are those thoughts that say see this is what was you were what were but that's not  how it should've been and I don't know who's right! Should have been, could have been, supposed to have been, I don't know. All I know is what's now. This is the hardest thing I've ever thought to get rid of thoughts; memories; ideas to alter the reality of a false reality. How do I erase those thoughts? Can I just pretend they don't exist? You don't exist.  We don't exist.  It doesn't exist. I don't exist; too much existing but not existing nowhere existing. A cloud is real but you cannot touch it and you cannot taste it and you cannot feel it but it’s there because you see it. Does that make a thought real? An instinct, a gut feeling real? I cannot touch it, I cannot see it, I cannot taste it, but I can feel it. I can feel the thought rattling in my head back and forth back and forth back and forth. I can feel it weighing on my heart right wrong up down right wrong done over right wrong mistakes change. I can feel it in my stomach pacing back and forth twisting, turning knotting. But is it real? I don't know any more I thought I was so sure of everything before. Now I’m not so sure anymore. I pushed no pull. I pulled no push. I screamed, no screams. I screamed, no response; passive, dismissive, submissive, tried it all. I tried what I thought I thought you thought would work, then I tried what I thought I thought I thought would work and that didn't work either. So, now I don't know. For the longest I was so sure waiting for you to be sure and you never were. Now I'm unsure waiting for me to be sure and I'm not sure I ever will be. It's scary. I just want some peace, some sleep, some thoughtlessness thoughts. Some black abyss memories, space to empty out the crooks and crevices of those thought-out thoughts of those hidden away memories of fold together hide away memories. I just want to stop wanting, stop thinking, stop feeling in this existence of nothing; inside there, in my head wandering around. If only these thoughts did not make a sound.

There aren't any more I love yous in there anymore I hate yous. There's only I don't know yous and I want to forget yous. There's not any more please forgive mes, anymore I'm sorry, anymore I want to make this right. There's only can I forgive me and you're not sorry and will I forgive you and I’m not sorry, work harder, fight. There are so many words in there for you but they're not familiar anymore they are not honey and babe and sweetheart they’re bastard  and asshole and dick, jerk!  There are no more please and thank yous.  There are please and thank you.  There are no more I miss yous, I want yous, I need yous.  There is only I wish you would go away, I want you to leave, I need you to stop inhabiting my brain. There is no more you who there used to be you there's just you who’s used to me.