March 19, 2018

I pity the woman who comes after me, just as I pity the woman who was here before. The woman who comes after me is condemned to forever box with my shadow. The woman before will lose any semblance of power she once thought she had. The woman after me will marvel at the mess I’ve made, always trying to go above and beyond simply to make you smile. It will never be enough. The woman before will wonder what I have that she doesn’t. She was never enough.

 

And it’s a precarious position, one that makes me feel equally as powerful as it does weak. Because in my next love I will either be the woman who came first or the woman who came later and as much as the narcissist in me wants to believe that it’s JUST me who has this effect on my exes because I’m so amazing:

 

Too many tortured artists have too much tragedy for their art. I’ve read too many times in too many different words that “the one you love and the one who loves you are never ever the same person.” (See Palahniuk for that one.) and it’s hard for me to even write this because I believe in manifesting your own reality but when’s the last time you love someone who loved you? (Little ass Big Sean said that.) and shit.. I’m going off memory but I think it was Johnny cash that taught me 80% of the worlds lovers are not with their first choice and THAT IS WHAT MAKES THE JUKEBOX PLAY.

 

So am I filler? Are you filler? Is everyone with a filler?

Hold on. My ex is calling. Maybe it is just me.

 

… Or is this whole world full of sick fucks pretending to be happy for a default and crying behind closed doors? This is exactly why I have trust issues.

 

Who hurt me? Nah you don’t get it.

 

And I don’t want to sound mad or upset, I’m not. But when did this hopeless romantic turn cynic? This is not who I want to be. This is not how I want to think. I want to go back to thinking that there are couples out there who are genuinely happy to look at each other and wake up next to each other who have no baggage and want nothing but to be together and haven’t carried past relationships into their current ones but there’s so much evidence  to the contrary.

 

Every single girl I know has at least one ex calling with “I know I fucked up” as their opening line. And when we say “You have a girlfriend you have to let me go” the response is sickening. “She is a teddy bear I use to keep your side of the bed warm.” That is the one that instilled this horrible fear in my gut that I can’t fucking shake because I cannot even begin to fathom ME giving my life and my love and my affection and my attention to a person who is crying to someone else. I think I would die.

 

I like to think I’m strong. I’ve seen some shit. But I think I would die. Or kill. One or the other. You never know ’til you’re in the situation, but I digress. I’m looking at you like ‘Why can’t I stop smiling’ and you’re thinking about someone else you wish were in my seat? Nah b. I ain’t built for that.