Sometimes you lead yourself into your own situations, sometimes you find out things are never what they seem. But mostly what opens up for me is finding another way to reflect on a conflicting issue that is always on my plate. Struggles are never things that are easy, or else they would be called fun. And fun is something I never write about.
I was once told by a friend, when you are sitting alone at home, amongst your daily routine and you suddenly hear an unwelcome knock at the door. Not your neighbors knock and not your friend coming to pick you up knock, but that surprising knock. That noise that unconventionally catches you off guard. When you are interrupted by that intrusion, it is instinctively known to some that whomever enters your thoughts first, that person is either a) someone who you fear would carve out your heart or b) someone who already owns it.
Now, I have had this experience several times. And every time over the last few years it has always resolved itself as being not the person I sought it to be. It is as if your insides have taken this snapshot of a person, and only remembers what it wants to see, not for what it actually is. I am a firm believer of desire and attraction. Sometimes when two share direct raw intimacy, I think that it will always remain there. No matter how many miles apart, walls or bodies of water – certain emotions cause this rippling effect that is something that will never go away.
How you channel this is another matter. Desire is anything but conventional. Desire makes no sense, has no reason and doesn’t really care about where or who you are. I’ve said and often written about “The heart wants what the heart wants”. And for me this tends to be an unbridled chain of torrid waters. You will always remember what you want to, and push back what you don’t want to. And in the meanwhile you have to weigh in both sides, trying to believe if you really were better off with or without that person.
It’s when the layers finally strip away, and even though you see her standing at your doorstep behind the knock – do you really see ‘her’ standing at your doorstep? Maybe it’s just the screenshot of the best times in your memory book all wrapped up in one..
You know I think I will never really know. I spend too much time swallowing the knots I continue to feed myself. The instant they were beautiful, they unknowingly became fallible.
It’s at this point that makes me not want to try. It’s always been the slips and flaws that I find the most attractive anyway.
Or at least they make the best stories.
i am broke and unwound
you’ve seen me at my worst
in your hand lies the key
to the hole in my head