But every woman has her breaking point.
It's a misconception that when a woman has feelings for someone -
SEE Love or Luff SEE ALSO Lust and Infatuation
that said woman is immune from linear thinking.
That she won't easily be motivated to act when the behavior towards her has changed.
Or when the man she has feelings for reveals his belief in the woman's expendability.
I am strong.
I am resilient.
I don't actually believe I could be content with a disproportionate love.
I detest halfway love.
I would rather be left alone then have someone resist their instinct to love me.
A transition occurred.
One of judgement.
Possession.
I am not, in fact, any man's doll to be placed on his shelf for those impulses he wants to pick me up and look at me.
I am, rather, my own possessor.
Free from everything.
A N D
E V E R Y O N E.
No apologies.
No explanations.
My choices are mine.
And when I make them I choose them.
Completely.
In theatre, the actors most tedious to watch are the ones who don't commit to anything.
Their character isn't established because they never consciously made a choice and gave their everything to it.
The actors who demand attention are the ones who with every fiber in their being commit their energy to the choice they made.
There is no room to believe anything other than what they present the audience because for them it is raw truth.
Those are the players I am inspired to play with.
And those are the relationships I seek to surround myself with.
Some people think they're honest.
At least as honest as they can be with another person.
But what they don't realize is until they reconcile the reality of their truth with themselves they will never be free to share it entirely with anyone.
Or any lover.
They object and protest that they have been honest this whole time.
When in fact they've never been honest anytime.
Because their truth is too fucking much.
For them to hold in their hands and see.
Their mind would be scattered across the walls.
This year has changed me.
And when I woke up this morning I felt different.
I crouched in child's pose inhaling deeply.
Somehow, the atoms within me were no longer dancing.
They were running.
Driving me somewhere I didn't understand but with a profound resoluteness that I wanted no more of what had been.
I wanted change.
And as Timing loves to boast in all her perfectness I saw a post that today, 11/11 it was the New Moon.
And this new moon was in Scorpio.
An uncomfortable sign.
That Scorpio teaches us not everything lasts forever.
Something has to DIE.
So it may be reborn.
C h a n g e.
I felt it.
The moment I awoke.
The sun cutting through my window warming my skin.
I knew what I didn't want.
A feigned adoration like some distant mirage.
That made me a mere hologram.
Impenetrable.
Locked behind glass walls.
And there I was to lay.
Waiting.
While Time whiled away days.
Upon hours.
And I to simply
Be.
Silent.
Enduring.
Loyal.
Like a porcelain doll.
Lightly touched, if touched at all.
So I grabbed a hammer.
And shards flew everywhere.
And then I suddenly wasn't communicating.
When I was s c r e a m i n g.
And now I was a bad doll.
Because I set his lies on fire.
There is no love in deceit.
It was pretend.
Mere make believe.
Like a scene.
In a play.
And then the curtain closes and we never look at one another again.
Once.
I held onto a lie.
Fervently, with such childlike care.
I held onto it at night and cuddled the hopes into the dark hours of the dawn.
And I believed.
Oh how desperately I believed that the lie could transform into my truth.
But then.
I was a fool.
A lovely little fool
Whose only frame of reference was to devote her entirety to that one. Entity.
Now.
I'm tired.
My tolerance quickly wanes.
And I see reality before I see anything else.
The new moon aligned in me and I no longer wanted to exist in an alternate universe anymore.
I. Want. What's right. Now.
And the originator of this effusive infatuation was no longer able to make me sit still beside him.
I ran.
Fled.
With the same frantic urgency that drove me to him in the first place.
Unaffected.
Oh so distant.
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