It’s been… four years. I made a journey. I have been on it a long time. But, four years ago I was desperately making decisions to go actively against myself. For someone else. I wanted so badly for it to work out. I wanted love. I wanted him to love me. I thought if I held out long enough. If I toned my sparkle down enough. I could make a man like that fall in love with me. He was telling me (about 4 years and another month from now ago), that, yeah. He did love me. But he couldn’t do this anymore. “This.” At the time- I thought it was that he couldn’t do long distance. That it was going to happen in the future, if it was meant to be- it would. I wanted so badly to believe that there wasn’t someone else. That it was just circumstance. That he moved because he had to. That I was worth loving anyways. But not now though. It broke me. It shattered me. It was never going to work out. But, I didn’t know that then. I heard what people said. I heard the warnings. I felt it, too. Truly. But I still didn’t know that was the end. That it was in sight. That I felt it and knew it- but hoped it was my imagination.
It taught me to learn to trust my gut. Trust my instincts. Make sure I’m true to me, first. I learned that curiosity really does kill the cat. And I’m the cat. I don’t have to be the curious cat. I may be on my seventh or eighth life by now- who can know? But I don’t need curiosity anymore. I don’t have to go through it. I’m good on that.
I kept my head down. I worked on… me. I didn’t realize how important it was until last year. I was broken yet again. I lost a family member. I felt so much guilt. Her and another… then my cat passed, too. It was enough to break me. Again and again and again. I was trying. I wanted so badly to meet that guy at another time. But he taught me, too. Never made me feel bad about being me. Sweaty times. I sweated through a lot of shirts. Anxious. I wanted to learn and grow in my job. He was useful for that. But he was also useful to remind me of my self worth. I had a lot to say. I felt like I bowed to him. And he never faltered. Never made me feel like I wasn’t useful. Or needed. He made me realize that I was worthy of equal respect. Without any words. So many sweat stained shirts to say goodbye. And almost a year later- I still adore him. Wish I could know him. And I understand that it’s okay to let him move forward, while I do the same. At times, I feel humble as a simple admirer to a prince pretending to be a pauper.
And even still. A year later, now. I was struggling. My mental state. My emotional state. My abilities as a scientist. As a learned person in my field…. And I feel… lighter. I’m lighter somehow. These men. They’ve shaped me. I wish they hadn’t been the catalyst- but perhaps that was always my fate. For they are and I am better for them all.
The guy who looks JUST like Beck. The uncommitted psychedelic sensual being. Who helped me open up my shell and love. In light and body paint and only using the side door. Who can’t commit. Even to this day. We could be so good together. No we could- no we could!
The narcissistic screamo sharpie king. Wearing my pants (even if it was an accident after declothing…), encouraging me to explore all my kinks without expectations or judgement (with enthusiasm, if I’m honest). Showing up out of the woodworks to remind me that I’m cute and that my desires are valid. Afro or not. Skateboard or not.
The Rat King. I’ve never admired an artist for their drawings of dicks, poop, and butts more than when I held your affections. You taught me to laugh. Cry. Take care of myself. And laugh about farts some more. I’m happy for you and your new life. Regretful of taking things that weren’t your burden out on you. So regretful. I’m just glad you are happy. Honestly.
The narcissists son. The one who I held so high on a pedestal- my arms and legs and body broke thoroughly and truly beyond repair. The musician that I admired and grew to fear. We laughed. I cried. We loved you more than you can know. More than anyone can know. And more than I ever would again.
The Hermit. The man who covered me in his cloak and shielded me from the world. Until I realized it was to make yourself still available. Not to protect me. But to protect YOU.
The rest? Just solidified it all. They had a part. A role in being an extra. Not a part of the main events. But a support that lead me to where I am now.
But as much as they may have helped to shape me- I did it on my own in the end. I got here by taking risks. By believing in myself. By saying that I am worth it and I can ask for what I want and need. I deserve to get it, too. I believe I do. That’s the biggest lesson of them all. I matter. And I’ll matter to the right person.
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