she made me believe that i could love again and god knows, i thought my heart would never allow that after my divorce. she bolstered all the good in me she saw and applauded my success relentlessly. i spent every dime i could on you, thought you were it, my second chance. you never fought with me, not once, during those nine months. we were peacemakers through and through. not a single war waged until the day you confessed you had fallen in love with another woman. i wept like i never had and never will again. panic, panic, PANIC. this will be a pattern for me. this will be my lot.
so then i met another her. this one was not at all like she was. this one was broken and pissed at america and stoned continually and needed me to be mother, father, friend, and mirror, mirror on the wall. she told me "i like you because you constantly tell me how beautiful i am. i could never be with someone who didn't do that." you wouldn't let me run because you needed me to bring you your morning coffee. you wouldn't come out to your friends with me there because you "weren't sure you wanted people to know i was your girlfriend."
and most days, i chalk this up to the perils of dating--inevitable and necessary. but on particularly lonely nights, i lay here in bed and wonder why i choose the women i choose. women who don't want me. women whom i don't want. women who are closeted. i know exactly what i want and need in a relationship but, in the end, the magnetic allure of lust seems to trump all reason. and i enter knowing this is only a detour, this is only a demise waiting to happen. and i try to convince myself this is a part of my story i'm not responsible for and a part that won't affect me.
i now know that a relationship cannot be entered into lightly and that sex will always carry weight and romance for me and that, above all, beauty and vanity is a dangerous combination. from now on, i will weigh the cost and i will believe that a healthy partnership--one that is focused outward--is around this next horizon. and i will not rest in another's arms until i find it. i deserve this and she deserves this and my former lovers--they deserve health and prosperity and partnership.
this will not be my pattern or my lot. a healthy, robust, adventurous and all encompassing love is waiting in the wings.
so then i met another her. this one was not at all like she was. this one was broken and pissed at america and stoned continually and needed me to be mother, father, friend, and mirror, mirror on the wall. she told me "i like you because you constantly tell me how beautiful i am. i could never be with someone who didn't do that." you wouldn't let me run because you needed me to bring you your morning coffee. you wouldn't come out to your friends with me there because you "weren't sure you wanted people to know i was your girlfriend."
and most days, i chalk this up to the perils of dating--inevitable and necessary. but on particularly lonely nights, i lay here in bed and wonder why i choose the women i choose. women who don't want me. women whom i don't want. women who are closeted. i know exactly what i want and need in a relationship but, in the end, the magnetic allure of lust seems to trump all reason. and i enter knowing this is only a detour, this is only a demise waiting to happen. and i try to convince myself this is a part of my story i'm not responsible for and a part that won't affect me.
i now know that a relationship cannot be entered into lightly and that sex will always carry weight and romance for me and that, above all, beauty and vanity is a dangerous combination. from now on, i will weigh the cost and i will believe that a healthy partnership--one that is focused outward--is around this next horizon. and i will not rest in another's arms until i find it. i deserve this and she deserves this and my former lovers--they deserve health and prosperity and partnership.
this will not be my pattern or my lot. a healthy, robust, adventurous and all encompassing love is waiting in the wings.
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