Myself

Surprisingly unedited...

It's getting harder, I thought it'd get easier. Learning to be by myself is a very difficult process and I haven't even begun to get the hang of it. It doesn't help that the only time I have to self reflect is when I'm sleeping.

She's been gone for three days, nearly four. It doesn't sound like a long time, but it is for me. I know we both need this...time apart, to grow individually, but I don't want to. I don't know how to be apart from her. Everyone else seems to have a back up somehow, somewhere and she's all I have (not purposefully). Since she was my best friend before my girlfriend, it's hard to pull back from telling her everything. I'm so clingy I piss her mom off. I take all of her attention, like a baby so she can't spend time with anyone else. I feel bad about it all the time. I just can't help myself she's my lifeline.

That being said, there was no slow separation. One minute we were together everyday and the next BAM! A month without her. I know I can do this. I just want it to happen faster, because I feel like I'm the only one who hasn't grown up. I may have a job, go to school and pay for my own gas, but those are only material indicators that someone has indeed grown. I'm still a clingy and needy as a three year old, and no one is to blame but me. I can't help but wonder if it will ever change. Or where to start to change it. They all seem so easily separated from the things they cling to. Like its so much easier for them to let go and move on and grow up. Where have I been that I haven't learned to take these steps towards individualism?

There are so many things I want for her while she's out there. I want her to grow, to become who she wanted to be without having to worry about me. I want her to explore the world around her like she's always wanted to and learn not to limit herself, to appreciate her intellect. I want her to begin the journey of becoming the woman she's always dreamed she could be; because I know in my soul that she is that woman.

Yet I'm so terrified that after this journey, this self discovery, she'll figure out I'm holding her back. She'll realize that she doesn't need an anchor, she needs wings and I'm not that. I'm afraid she'll realize she deserves and can have better than sniveling insecure pup clinging to the nearest thing with fur and milk. I'm horrified...that she'll come back and not want me. This fear is so coiled inside me that if it starts to loosen I'm afraid it will rip me apart. Cause, how could anyone else, want something so broken.

My fears, these fears...they tie her down. And I know it, both consciously and subconsciously I know that my shattered remnants will keep her with me. Do I do it on purpose? I couldn't tell you, cause I don't know. I do know that she's drawn to the torn, to the misunderstood and lost. Inside I fear that if I find myself, somehow if I dive into that mirror and pull out an idea of who I am, she'll lose interest. Perhaps that fear is another that keeps me from figuring out how to start developing an identity. So many contradicting fears.

My lover is in New York, figuring herself out. Being brave and adventurous all on her own. I'm proud of her. I love her. I'm glad she left when I think about her. I'm sad when I think about me, if that makes any sense at all. Why is my writing always so daunting, even the happy things have a negative air. I wish I was as whimsical as my Mushroom.

Debbie Downer,
Realihty