Comparisons

"Stop looking for happiness in the same place you lost it."

I've been working on this post for about a week now.  I don't know why I haven't been able to bring myself to finish it.  Actually, we always know why we hesitate.  It's the acknowledgement of our dark places that become a problem and sometimes we just can't.  I'm not even drunk and I'm laying out my feels.  Here goes nothing.  Be kind.

Growing up, our parents and family are supposed to be our examples of how we should be treated in the world.  In school, we learn from our peers.  What happens to ourselves when we are in an abusive relationship?  Several, in my case.

More so, the relationship that we have after the abusive relationship.  Or as anyone who knows me puts it, the repeated mind fuck of relationships that have molded me into the asshole I am now.

What happens when your previous contact with the human world was so damaging, that you don't recognize who you were at the beginning and came out of it not completely unscathed, but alive and semi-functional at least?

You feel like vomiting at the thought of being left, ignored, shamed, and violated so you avoid feeling anything for anyone for fear that it will happen all over again. 

Then when you do get to the point where someone breaks down all of your barriers, you self-sabotage in an effort to feel the familiar hurt. I got to that point on the 10th of this month, see Instagram post about my keychain. I truly n.e.v.e.r. want to go to "that place", ever again.  

And then you realize that they're not going to hurt you.  Not physically anyway.  You are also fully aware that this one could be Henry Rollins in disguise and you want to put on your vixen face because you'll be damned if you're going to be spiritually Napalmed again. 

What do you do?  There's always the what if nagging at you.  You feel like a deer being pursued by a wolf.  Trouble is coming and you're ready to bolt.  But then you look into their eyes and you lose the train of thought you were on and you're frozen.

Do you run?  Do you become agitated when they're nice to you?  Do you grasp for anything you can while you're waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I'll tell you what you do. 

You stop breathing the second you hear their voice because it's so wonderful to hear someone saying something nice to you without hearing the familiar echo in the other ear.  You know the one.  They say "You're wonderful" and you hear "But she's prettier than you".

Fear.  You are terrified and you love it.  You feel alive for a change.  Your friends are even looking at you a little funny, and all you can muster is a grin and shrug.  My mom even called it when I was busy trying to talk myself out of it.  That's never happened.

If ever there was a spell sent out to the Universe for the man with everything you want that couldn't exist, because if he didn't exist you'll never have a broken heart, this one.  

"I dream of a love that even time will lay down and be still for".  

But they do exist.  And it's surreal.  And weird.  Frankly, a little Alfred Hitchcock-ish.  Downright Twilight Zoney. I have spent the majority of my poetry writing about an imaginary guy, and what I want him to be exactly like, and he was brought to me on the solar eclipse.  

Guys, the universe has finally cracked the code on me with this one. 

On April 8th, I had made a plan with my friend to celebrate her birthday. Seriously, who has a birthday on the eclipse and doesn't celebrate? I couldn't let her get away with not. Anyways her and a couple other friends I was supposed to meet up with at six at Delvino's in Belfast went to the Front Street Pub to pre-game and lo and behold, there he was, just trying to enjoy a beer after work and mind his own damn business. 

You guys know that I for one, was also minding my own damn business.  I met this friend and the other people that I was meeting in a single's group.  A bunch of single people who hang out and do stuff.   Who knew it was going to lead to the only person that I want to do cool stuff with for the rest of my life? Certainly not me.

When I showed up to dinner, they told me what they did. His presence made my brain tingle before I even saw his face.  Then he sat down next to me and smiled, and a voice in the back of my brain, that I like to pretend is an ancestor speaking and not my vagina, said, "That one."

I messaged him the next day and after an hour or so of chatting,  my dumbwit brain whose attempt to flirt somewhat resembles a hippo in a synchronized swimming competition, sent the message,  "I like your face. I'd like to see more of it. " There's a lot in between then and now. But it doesn't matter because it's all brought us here. 

You don't want to get used to them.  They are going to find out exactly how damaged and screwed up you truly are and will run for their lives.  But you also find yourself not wanting them to run.  In fact, you find yourself feeling like a purring kitten when they smile at you.  It's freaking you out to no end, but you also don't want it to stop because, hey it's kind of nice to feel floating and goosebumps instead of the burn of vomit and the cold shock of your blood pressure changing while in a constant state of panic and dread. I actually sleep next to him; unheard of! Sleepovers were never allowed before him.  A man in my bed at all, for that matter. 

Speaking of bed things....I deleted 100% of my "old life", IFYKYK. But in turn, I have an all-new praise kink that came out of nowhere. Anyone who knows me, knows something is amiss with regard to that in the biggest way possible. But when it comes to him, it isn't. Again, about the writing to the imaginary person who includes some fun things of their own.  

Some things are allowed to be just mine. At the same time, I can't say that I mind turning the house into the red-light district every now and again. If your math is mathing, then you're also picking up what I'm putting down. I am most definitely getting my daily dose of D. 

This man is a walking library filled with your favorite words.  Everything they say to you sounds like Christmas morning.  What the frig are you supposed to do with that!?!?!?!?!? Conversations are completely effortless. We have so much in common for two people who have never met until this point in their lives for it to not be concocted by forces greater than ourselves.

Breathe.  Use your brain.  They're words!  Just words.  Calm your tits!  And for Pete's sake, stop it with the kind things already! 

I mean, so what if my shepherd's pie tastes like a marriage proposal?

They look at you like you're a magical mythical creature and here you are at last in front of them.    They're just playing you.  Or are they?  It's very alluring.   Like a mermaid who's going to drag you to your death.

Seriously though, I love with this man so much that I don't even know who the fuck I'm trying to kid.

At the beginning of this week when we were in Bar Harbor, he took a picture of his view out of the window in the restaurant that we were at because it was beautiful, and he wanted to make sure that I was able to see it. Yes, it brought me to tears. Who thinks of things like this except for him? Well, of course I do, but I was certain that I was the only one.

I have the walking equivalent to the best day ever in human form right in front of me.  Anything beyond me just thanking the universe is cocky. I'm still holding fast to the theory that he was created in a lab. 

Follow your heart and bring your brain with you, that's all I have to say at the moment.  If anyone has an extra, that'd be great.