People come and go and yet there is always that one that continues to come around, against all odds. It almost makes me positive that he’s the one, just for me. But then I’m not positive. I’m uncertain and fearful because I know that he sucks me in every single time, without fail or mercy. He charms my pants off and the next thing I know, I’m the dirty girl caught with her pants down while he walks away with clean hands. It’s just unsettling enough to make me question his intentions, but not enough to melt at every word that comes from him. It’s an autonomic reaction and although my brain is always in panic mode, my body has other ideas. Which is just as well, because while I’m swooning over how he must be the one after all this time, he’s feeling guilt and regret like I’m some leper he’s just shaken hands with.
And I’ve become so indifferent to that, because eventually he’ll find his way around again.
The self acceptance. The ‘this is who my mistakes have made me into and I need to deal with this current version of myself’ moments. The ‘it will get better’ moments. The ‘everything is going to be just fine because I am here and I am choosing to stay here’ train of thought.
Then those waves hit shore and I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t want to be here anymore. Make it stop, because I am so done with this.
But I still get out of bed. I still try to act like everything is normal and bordering on fine when really I am so hopelessly lost at sea, I would rather have drowned instead.