Shortcuts to misery.

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When you left, my whole being wanted to do what was necessary to keep you present.

When you left, I failed to take back your power over me. The power I so eagerly bestowed on you when you’d grown to my liking. Yes, I do…like you enough to have you mirror my worth. One word or look from you is now enough for me to question and adjust myself…so you would keep liking me back…or at least remain in my presence. That’s how it went. But when you left, I failed to terminate this contract, and off you went, with a power over me in you that you very likely were not even aware of. How cruel of me to have made you responsible for my wellbeing and emotional imbalance…

When you left, my body wanted you in me still. A souvenir and ever-present past. Like a glass of expired milk on my breakfast table of which I’d take a sip every day to remind me of what was and keep a slight delusion hanging in the air of what could be if…you had not left.

When you left, my brains started building bridges and shortcuts, attaching everything from the asymmetry of your face, to your favorite transition in my favorite jazz song, to your pet peeves and the sound of your hysterical laughs that overpower the television when your favorite sitcom’s on, to the very essence of our intimacy…I attach all that to everything and anything random I see. By that, I even mean the wind that makes the trees in my garden dance around happily.

When you left, I realised that the source of my misery wasn’t you leaving. It is my art of dressing people I love with coats of responsibility I decide not to wear myself. Splitting and exporting my soul into objects and people who should not bear the weight of having to love me unconditionally. Giving people permanent contracts for positions that are meant for no soul but myself.

When you left, I realised how much I don’t love myself and how little I actually did love you. To my surprise, I realised that I had unconsciously considered you as my possession…and not a partner to grow with.

When you left and that I realised the horrors of how I used to love, I apologised and discharged you from all responsibility of how I’d been feeling.

The warmth I felt inside as I saw my power flow back into me, gave way to the first time I felt joy in my very cold but soon-to-end misery.

MFA.