Un – belonging

Not belonging anywhere is like a blood type, like a rate heart dissease, like a DNA of cursed… Or blessed?

When no bed is giving peace, when no love is giving fullfilment, when all happiness is temporary, when every wind is straight trough the hair in the back.

I could never sit in four walls for too long… I would get suffocated, I wouldn’t fall asleep, I couldn’t calm down my thoughts, my anxiety. No bed ever gave me peace… not my bed in a drawer back home, not my king size bed in the dessert, nor his bed. Maybe hotels beds… for a night… every layover longer than 24h was suffering… Guess I really found a job providing my restlessness peace. Did I?

Often I wonder was this just one of the ways to make it worse? Was this separation from my mother, sister, family, friends, places I used to love, places I used to hate a liberation or just deeper prison I fall into?

Because what is deeper prison for a person than it’s own skin… it’s own fears… it’s own insecurities… it’s own blurred future… it’s own sinned past… there is no bigger prison than it’s own bones and its confused heartbeat.

When I was home waiting for him to come I was furious, anxious, I was beast in cage I was managed, maintained, filling gaps but when I was here in hospital waiting for his X-ray I was inspired, I was writing, I was creative I was between people I was beautiful I was alive…. people are looking at me because I am attractive, I’m waiting for you because we are a normal couple (at least for today), I’m glad you hurt your leg because you are an asshole and there is some justice in Universe…

PRISON

Prison is when you have to go home where your friends are waiting birthday of their second kid, your sister wants a Victoria Secret oils (that you don’t have time to get), security guards in your building, swiping system to open the doors, curfew to be home by 4am and never sleep outside, let’s go to visit your cousin, stay here we never spend time together… People are selfish, boundaries… How many times we do things with our lives for others? Your college choice, occupation, savings/spendings, vacation home because your boyfriend didn’t save enough money even you did, birthdays on hold… How many times you were swirled in other people plans and free time? Cause of boredom, desperation or just being too polite? Pay attention, it happens more than you think…

Children

I wish for three children… I do nothing to have them. Seeing a married man my parents will never accept and I would be never happy living with years 5… Not meeting anyone else, not flirting, not even texting… Having nervous breakdown once per week… sometimes 10 times… Aging… living in constant frustration that I arranged for myself… but children. Almost 30 but where and with who? And when…

Where is Mr Right? To sweep me off the feet and give this Cinderella her long lost shoe? 2019 he will come? Even if they put him on top of my nose, inside my body… I won’t see him… You can’t tie the wind. You can’t plant the desert rose. You can’t put the roots where there isn’t one… We choose what we are, what we become.

Is being tied just a cowardly act for those scared to be left? Scared to be hurt? Those who were hurt in past and now want no ties, want no love, those whose heart turned into stone because once it cared too much? Is that just a defense mechanism? A self protection? A condom you put on your heart so you can feel the surface but not completely? So is “safe”? Is it fear you will love that baby in your stomach so much and worse of that it would unconditionally love you back? Did anyone ever loved you back unconditionally apart from your mother that you left on your wild road somewhere behind? Is it a fear to fail that small creature? A fear to disappoint? A fear to be left by its father? Or mistreated.

Women who don’t need roots, who don’t need anyone aren’t fearless… aren’t girls interrupted… they are just cowards… scared little girls in women’s bodies putting their helmet on to go to war called life.

But still let me live in peace for a minute or two per month, when I see pregnant bellies of my classmates, or another cute proposal… let me think I will be one day one of those calm, pretty girls in floral dresses that Bukowski was hoping to meet… While only ones finding me were… While pretending to be… Hehe…

I will finish this post now and dispose my precious iPhone X while waiting for the cancer or my life to arrive from his X-ray.

XOXO, Jelena

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