What I Created

For the first time I am afraid of the city I left.
The black concoction I swirled and mixed and added things to for years,
the drink I was never around long enough to take a sip of,
is now the very drink I must drink.
I am forcing myself to.
Because I am not going to find happines anywhere in life, if I am not happy with self.

The time period, the age I thrived in,left years ago.
And I am only now, figuring that out.
I’ve lifted my head up and realized that the only way I found ‘happy’ was by attention and distraction.
You can’t get that stuff when you’re holding a drink of black.

Getting Better or Getting Better in my Lies

So that was a rough patch. I’m onto smoother grounds now and I’m not even sure how I got here. Maybe it’s the shoes I’m wearing. Or the fact that I stopped conversing with a guy friend from back home. I was Skyping with him an hour everyday. Goodbyes are tough and sometimes they trail into the other life you’re living across the world. But we cut our communication off and I suppose ever since then, I am more present.

We still do not have the life we did before. We still are not as affectionate or as playful, as loving or as cute. Even though I have seven new bras and matching panties he ordered from the UK last month, the usage has been sparce.
We both have our things to work on but I just feel that I am the one tugging us down. What runs through my head is the saying ‘ what you loved about your partner, what made you fall for them, becomes the things that bother you the most’ . It is true for me.
I admired his wealth of knowledge, how much he talked for minutes at a time without my response.I was shy and was glad he could talk.But now I find myself shutting off. One of my friends told me, ” It is hard being in a relationship with a smart person. ” Because he is. Way smarter than me. So I have been feeling like a little ant under his giant brain and it doesn’t feel very good.
Sometimes I feel unmotivated to say anything because I know he will come back with something greater, better, something that relates to something else that prooves his point and so all our conversations end up being not about me and my feelings, end up not being simple and organised, but chaotic and sad.

In these days I am weak.
And I am being better, I am trying harder. To get to somewhere good. Because I am coming into focus with the fact that I don’t really want to leave him. That just because it gets tough for me, doesn’t mean I run.
But I’m still stuck. Because I am not who he thinks I am.
I am living a lie and I’m stuck in it.
So am I really getting better? Or am I just getting better at my lies?