Day 33 – How deep is your love?

Hi Big,

How deep is your love?

I wore my heart on my sleeve and told you I loved you. You turned around said you did too but you see yourself with her. I get it. I broke us up once, I could do it again. Yet, you keep coming back. I keep giving in. In the hope that maybe I will still have a part of you. You keep coming back because you know you still have a part of me. It almost makes me believe that you want me. Is that true? Or is it just a version of me that completes you? You’ve said it before and I know it now. It is the puzzle piece that is missing to complete your perfect picture. How pathetic do I sound?

I don’t want to be the other woman. Not anymore. I don’t want to do your midnight rendezvous or your early morning sip of coffee. Yet, here I am, always knocking on your door. Thinking maybe if I can have some of you, it’s only a matter of time till we’re together. I know this is selfish. Ten years ago, I would never approve of this person. Of this version of myself. Now, I’m using this version because it pleases you. And you please me, my heart, my mind, me.

You tell me that you love me and then you don’t. You’re clouded by what you want until you return to your reality. Until you return to her. I am clouded even though I know better. Even though we know better.

In the real world, what good is this for us? I mean, you can’t seem to do justice to a relationship with someone you say you love and see yourself with? There’s no excuse, is there? So, who is selfish? My sins aren’t any wiser than yours. I want to commit and you love the idea of having the best of both worlds. I would never want to be her. Hell, I was her. And now you’ve made me into the women I’ve hated. You’ve made me someone I hate. No, you’re not to blame. Not entirely anyway. But then, I keep thinking about it. About us and our fantasy. I’ve had feelings for you and you see right through me. I keep telling myself that you’re taking advantage of me. But how I can blame you, when I am equally guilty? I wake up dreaming about us in a boathouse or the back of a bar. My legs wrapped around your waist and my back against the wall. Our moans echo through the walls and I want more. You make my mouth dry and I want nothing more. My hands are stroking through your hair and arms, pulling your closer. Not willing to let go. But in the back, there’s a shadow of her, wandering around looking for you.

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When you say you love me, it’s this version of me that completes you or your wants. You don’t love all of me. If you did, you wouldn’t treat me like just another number to be deleted from your call-log. Would you?

I really mean to learn

For the times that we speak, there is no one else. In that moment, I am the girlfriend. I get the compliments, the love, the lust, and your attention. I cave and never want to let go. I know what turns you on, and use it. I know what makes you moan and I love that I know. I love that it’s all me. So I am guilty too. Guilty of wanting you to moan and sweat because of me. I am guilty of wanting to wake up cradled in your embrace. I am guilty of wanting to be the person you vent to but also share the new of your next best thing with. I want to be her.

You’re in denial. As am I. What are we doing, stranger? I tell the world you’re my best friend. Maybe you were. Maybe you are. It’s all a blur now. I can’t trust myself with you anymore. You don’t seem to care beyond our platonic relationship anyway, anymore. You ask questions on the surface of things because one must. Then…we trail. We get lost and we get intimate. There’s an adrenaline rush and we don’t thinks straight anymore. Again.

This feels like an addiction. One that I’m not particularly proud of. I am so addicted to you. All of you, that I keep coming back for more. It’s not just the sex. Yes, you make my body feel things I’ve never felt before. You also make me feel sparks and the entire zoo flipping my insides, like never before.

Flash forward, now all I am to you is someone with walls and cranky conversations. Yes. These are my walls. This is my guard to protect myself from the toxicity of this relationship because it’s affecting my mental health. It’s affecting my sense of self and my potential of ever truly being loved and wanted by someone. But just like any other addiction, your presence alone brings back that adrenaline rush and I want you pinned under me. Again.

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We’re living in a world of fools, breaking us down when they all should let us be

We all deserve love. Even those that once turned it down or deceived someone. You’re taking that away from me. You’re taking that away from me because you think you know better – for both of us.

What is love if it isn’t all of you? With her? With me? With yourself?

What is love if all I am is a mystery you can’t solve? What is love if all I am is an unspeakable secret? What is love if you’re never willing to find out? What is love if it’s too late to find out?

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How deep is your love?

All yours,

Carrie

Today’s tune: How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee.

Day 33 – 17 September 2017.
333 days to go.

Thanks for listening and if you relate, say hello, please and thank you.

Photo by Sweet Ice Cream Photography on Unsplash

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Day 29 – I’m yelling Tinder

I get rebellious every now and then, and download Tinder. I suppose it’s my way to getting back to the person who hurt me and letting them know that I could move on too. Who am I kidding? (but that’s besides the point)

The last two times I used Tinder, I was surprised with a few matches but none that ever led to a conversation. A lot of these guys seemed really good but not hearing from them crushes the little self-confidence you have left in you. Worse still, most of my other friends who used Tinder seemed to find dates, even if not a companion, and move on. What was happening here? Was I not good enough? I had my brave moments and even messaged some but I was left staring at my own message over and over (World 1 Chriselle 0). I would feel pathetic, and cry and complain over never hearing back from people. Being rejected by strangers suddenly felt so much worse. What do they know? Eventually it made me feel more bitter. I deleted Tinder and swore never to download it again, that was until the next time I felt alone and vulnerable and wanted a partner to talk to.

Distractions, Anagha said, you need distractions.

It is my lunch break at work and my mind keeps drifting to the boy. I open Google Play Store and at the risk of facing more rejection, I download Tinder again. I think it couldn’t get any worse than I already feel. And this anger might be better than the way I’m pining for someone I can’t have. So I set up my profile, and paste this description I had previously written and we’re ready go. I pick out pictures that I’m told look nice; not too much but just enough. I pick out my Spotify anthem and John Mayer is strumming the strings on his guitar in my ears, and I’m thinking, “Let’s go to wonderland“.

Swipe left.
Swipe left.
Swipe left.
Swipe right.

This goes on for a while and suddenly there’s a flame flashing in my notification bar. I got super liked (Heart 1 World 0). And it happened again. And for the first time in my otherwise failed attempts on Tinder, there is a message and I am beyond excited. Suddenly, all is forgotten because I feel confident and liked? I’m not sure why but I feel validated. I felt better the next day because I started swiping yes for people I thought were out of my league (something I never did before), and I was matched yes again (self-esteem 8503804803843, anxiety 0).

My close guy friends always mocked me being on Tinder because it isn’t meant to be an app for something other than a hookup. But I know of friends who have found love. Sure, the chances are one in a million or two, but it’s possible. Right? When I first joined Tinder, it was a distraction and to fill a void. That makes me a horrible person but I have to honest – that’s what it was. So imagine my excitement when someone is actually interested in having a conversation about me and about him, and the things that matter. It shifted something in me. I don’t see us turning into something just yet but knowing that I could have a conversation with someone other than boys from my past that I have been holding on to for years made me feel really really good.

There will always be a guy like you out there. Today, maybe not, but maybe someday you will find your match. On Tinder or not, just believe.

I don’t want to be just an option for people to swipe yes or no to. But being wanted felt bloody damn good, and no, it’s not the solution but it feels like a step towards finding one.

You want love?
We’ll make it
Swim in a deep sea
Of blankets

Today’s tune: Your Body Is A Wonderland by John Mayer.

Day 29 – 1 June 2017.
337 days to go.

Thanks for listening and if you relate, say hello, please and thank you.

Day 19 – Soulful stories

We all have a rehearsed set of lines similar to our Facebook, Twitter or LinkedIn bios. These are usually simple yet exciting enough, witty but safe. It is the story you know people want to hear even if it is not yours to tell. It is a story of our past achievements, our future aspirations, our talents and outward appearances. It is a story meant for the file.

Are you your hobbies or your values?

This morning, mum and I were talking about people judging each other based on what they see or read on social media. It is most often the first point of contact, and if it doesn’t match one’s expectations, it could be the last. She suggested that maybe I should tone down my blog posts and not get too personal on such a public platform. That I was giving away too much information, the kind that may not be appreciated. A few years ago, I would worry. I would worry about who read what I wrote and filter my audience due of the fear of being judged. Today, I have grown to be comfortable with myself. Today, I want my story to be heard. So my argument back was why not let people know what makes me the person I am, rather than letting them see what they think they know. Or for those who didn’t know me, why ruin the first impression? I was confident of being true to my values and I see no wrong in sharing that with the world.

I guess our real stories are most pure and beautiful because they are uncensored and vulnerable. These are stories about our journey to what got us to this point. It is the story in which we bear our souls and talk about who we are beneath the layers on display. It is the story that extends beyond our comfort zone and leaves us raw and exposed. It is intense but it is honest, and it is out there for someone to love or leave you. So why isn’t it okay to share? Why are we wired to put out something we’re not?

I have heard some of the most inspiring stories from friends who might seem to have it all together but have struggled to get where they are today. It isn’t easy but they shared their stories with me anyway. They opened their doors and exposed their lives. Listening to them, in that moment, was magical and pure. It was when I fell in love with them because I got to know these friends for who they really were and not just what they wanted the rest of the world to see. It was magical because I could see myself in them. When I heard their honest soul-bearing stories, I knew that I had to have them in my life forever. How else do you know whether or not you might like someone?

This 365 project is my story and it is 365 shades of honesty. Occasionally, it is also my (many) shades of complication. What is your story?

Today’s tune: Fresh Eyes by Andy Grammer.

Day 19 – 22 May 2017.
347 days to go.

Thanks for listening and if you relate, say hello, please and thank you.