Learning to pause—
To breathe,
To be still.
Fighting myself
Served no one.
I worked so hard
To convince my heart
That you were worth the hurt.
But I knew.
You were never the one.
It was pride
That took longer to persuade.
You gave me peace
By simply being you.
And in that stillness,
Even pride
Let you go.
I love this peace.
I love it
For me.
Situation: Friend of mine called in righteous indignation over her close friend staying in touch with an almost/sometimes/maybe ex. Her sense of betrayal stemmed from the comraderie and familiarity her ex seemed to have while reminiscing of the interaction.
My assessment: Our exes where once the closest person we bared our fears and souls to. Some learnt our triggers and enjoy to push them just as we enjoy pushing theirs. How accurate is the depiction of this/these encounters? Knowing your person, are they prone to drawing the longbow through embellishment to pad their feelings of grandeur? Do they like to dance the tango of your feelings for entertainment?
Most importantly, why are you gatekeeping that woman’s husband?!?!?!
Conclusion: The audacity of gate keeping humans!!! Sacré bleu!
I have been feeling lost
Misplaced package type of lost
Delivered successfully to the wrong door
A friend said I had been quiet
Eerily quiet
Missing from me
How is that possible
You said I was too loud
Too much
While not being enough
Hoping I didn’t introspect into oblivion
Give me a minute
I will be back
Lost myself for a spell
In the we of it all
I unraveled a string
In this thread of my life
Handed it to my destroyer
Who unraveled my life
All strings attached
Played me like a ukulele
On the drunk man orchestra
An instrument
In a demolition man’s hands
Maybe if I take up crochet
Into a semblance of whole
I can ravel myself
The beauty of falling in love
With the man you never was
Flirting with your potential
Lured by my unbridled imagination
Dazzled by the tux overlooking the troll
A victim of all the glitters
I have to say…
The marketing of your brand of substandard mediocrity
Was world class
Situation: Introvert immersed in a convergence of humans held in place by sociatal norms that dictate that abrupt leaving is frowned upon while continued engagement is highly encouraged and the price is the need to pluck out each eyelash in the slowest possible torture like fashion possible.
The crux: I am the buffer of an emotionally charged leg of high powered explosives with the mad hatter himself playing with matches on my tombstone. We are one drink away from Hiroshima with an oblivious crowd that keeps watering this lawn with lighter fluid and using sparklers as ambient lighting.
The setup: Finding out you are the other woman while chaperoning your not necessarily stable friend through a silent war with her significant other all while they present a United front and you settle in the watch the shenanigans that is your current situation.
The conclusion: after finding a quiet corner to listen to true crime murder podcasts and observe the person you plan to slowly annihilate, you ponder various options like the slow roast with toxic tactics of withdrawal and utter disinterest best used on the scum of the earth that may have their contagious tentacles embedded in your heart and may need surgical excision to move past.
Short stories from a Broken soul 