This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me you see all the beauty
Repent all your sin
It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't chose
I'll write you a postcard, I'll send you the news
From a house down the road, from real love
Thinking about it now, I can't seem to find a more fitting song than Stars' Your Ex-Lover is Dead. Although I'm not saying he's dead literally but I think it's more of really realizing that the things you sort of hope that was there isn't really there.
I'm sure I'm not making sense to you (my interested albeit few), reader. If you don't know me that well, I probably won't. The best way I can explain it is that, now, I feel like I'm getting a part of me back by loosing something totally different. I do feel bad because my "liberation" came with a fake one.
Frances once quipped how liberating a carnival ride was for her and we laughed it off because we survived the experience. In hindsight, it was no laughing matter. Frances was one of the most silent and proper individuals I know. It was indeed liberating for her, but it was also liberating for me to break the idea that this friend is simply my prim and proper friend. I don't want to "process" this too much (as we say in my line of work). But I think it all boils down to the idea that a lucid moment can come from all the madness of everyday life and a random plan with someone you hoped would be different by now.
I've also come to accept that in any relationship - we cannot and should not change the person. Regardless if it's for the night, a month with a card, and a number of years - we bond (for lack of a better term) because we know that they are worth it and not because they are ideal. I think people have the tendency to hope for someone to change for them because it is portrayed as the most romantic gesture of the lifetime. Now, more than ever, I just find it stupid. People change on their own, for their own reasons. Real character is measured by this and not by those around the person. We just always assume that we are worth the change but maybe in reality, we are not worth anything at all.
We cannot stop people from changing. I'm not the same person that I was when our hands, held together by the idea that sweaty palms were romantic, were hidden from view care of our Jansport bags. The same way I've come to accept that you will never be the man you thought you would be, I think it's high time you accept I'm no longer the girl who had carefree thoughts on how to rule the world.
Thank you for the night. Thank you for the future nights. But more importantly, thank you for helping me understand my changes a little bit better.
Knowing that something cannot be because you actually tried to make it work is indeed liberating. Knowing that there are, indeed, things you just don't want simply because you don't want them in it is also liberating. Knowing that you are ready for a different one, a someone that you know might not be the one, is the most liberating thought of all.
I'm sorry if you're not the one.
Taking leaps,
Someone Anxious
