So much reminiscing, walking life tip toeing around the broken glass that I created. This is no news to me, it is not the first nor the last time I tried to reveal and suffer the consequences.
My problem always has been admitting the need of help, accepting the feeling of relief that comes with the "everything will be O.K" from psychologists, and scientists because after all, Heidegger was right. We are a simple run of bundle of qualities reduced to a scientific study.
Notwithstanding I blame my brokenness on her stubbornness. Her persistence of wanting to live with this not-at-homeness feeling with the world. And, I tried once to yell her name, reveal myself against her paths, tell her to get out, to leave for once and for all, and to let me walk my nightmares alone.
But it is then in my bare rebelliousness that she unfolds her sweet evilness to me. When she stands above my being and in one second opens her wings to slap me infinitely with love, with anger, with pleasure. "I made you" are her gentle words that echo in my soul.
And as the truth sinks in, I take my fall to the frozen ground with the taste of sweet blood on my lips. And I wait, wait, and wait for her to build me up once more because as much as I hate to admit it, she makes me better.
After deep doses of sleep I am still waking up every morning with the taste of blood on my lips. A reminder to never, ever again try to change the who I am because just as she builds me up, she is the only one who can decide when to tear me down.
So, I start all over again trying to accommodate to her new needs, to the needs of others, to the ones I love, to the surrounds, to the world. Oh the world, this empty place that we are thrown to by an overruling power force. And I wonder the why of my existance, I hear answers, all so similar but all so difficult to accept.
I prepare for the new trip, packed light because the walk will be very long. I commit to her pleasure, knowing that I am committing to never endless challenges but with promises this time, that things will be different as long as I don't try to reveal again. I stare deep into her eyes, my eyes, she smiles, I smile because she is so beautiful and I feel so safe. "Where do I begin?"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Start by loving yourself."
