Untitled

Fear of Abandonment

It's one of the things I realized I have.

And when I feel like I'm about to - I either do what it takes to keep people, bend to their lifestyle, be perfect and keep them interested with my charm and be what I think I should be for them - even to the point of draining myself. Or worry and self sabotage so they leave.

For years, I have not been kind to myself; always having a mindset that people leave. People don't leave, they are just there for a season, because that's what you needed at the time. We can't force someone to play in the snow when the sun is blazing.

Forcing any situation or circumstances doesn't work.

It's okay to not be there for people when it's not good for you. And trying so hard to keep people because of fear is not being kind to yourself and them. It's like inwardly performing a character - that's not you and they won't be able to see the real you if you keep putting up an act. It's not kindness you're doing - it's destruction on yourself and others.

Don't chase - the right people will stay and you won't have to work to keep them. It will be effortless, genuine, authentic. The best part is they will stay, because you are not anyone else but you.

You have a good heart in you - it will just show, not forced and everything will just "be," and fall into place.

He found her already there when he arrived and the house empty.

“Would you like some tea? I won’t be joining you because I already had some,” he says as they enter the house and head to the kitchen to put on a full kettle. “How was practice? Did it go well?”

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and doesn’t even look at him, but stares blankly at the wall as he continues to animate, as if nothing was wrong. Or maybe he knew something was and was pretending it was all okay. By the time he had turned on the stove everything else was silent. Not even he bothered to speak, for he knew they were not okay.

“Babe, please tell me.” He already knew.

And just like that, she blurts out the truth. “I cheated on you.”

“I forgive you,” he says automatically.

She lets out a frustrated sigh and begins to pace around the room until she finds herself in his room.

He still hasn’t made the bed, she thinks to herself and takes a seat. Her eyes wander to his bedside table where she finds a framed photograph of them. It’s always a different photo in the frame but it is always of them. It is always the most recent photo they take. This time it is their homecoming picture, both of them all glammed up in a wacky pose.

Was she really going to give him up? She takes a closer look at him, and it would take a real person who truly knows him to see he was not happy.

I have to.

He slowly makes his way, stopping in front of her. He kneels down, looks up, and takes her hands, holding them gently, careful not to spook her.

“There isn’t anything you can do to make me hate you, babe.”

And that was all it took to make her burst into tears. He doesn’t embrace her; instead, he lets her release everything she needed to release. He wasn’t going to constrain her; he was going to let her go.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I loved you to the best of my extent.”

She continues to cry, gripping onto his fingers wrapped around hers. She starts to shiver but he still remains in his place.

She finally looks up to see his face in tears.

“I did love you, but when you gave me your whole heart, I could only give you half of mine.”

It goes real quiet after that — so quiet it is deafening to the ears. She can only stare at their hands covered in her tears. Her heart pounds so hard in her chest she thinks it will explode. It is really happening. They’re breaking up. But so soon.

“I was the one who was supposed to break up with you. Even that you took from me.”

“I’m sorry.”

When she stands up, she doesn’t say a word and quietly leaves the house, and he is alone.

He finds himself sitting on the bed, staring at a photograph of them. Taking it, and with one last look, he opens the frame and takes out two photographs — the one of him and her, and a hidden Polaroid of two boys about 13 and 12 years old smiling toward the camera.

She opens the door.

             “Hey babe.” He says.

She smiles at the visitor.

             “Hi Cheston.” She greets him with a kiss. “Come in.”

Needless to say, they didn’t talk for the remainder of the night, and just enjoyed in whatever ways they found useful and needed in each other. It’s what they’ve always done. Ever since they started sharing a lack of attention from their partner, they’d go to each other and get what they can. It’s like they were putting all their frustrating with every kiss, every embrace, every position possible, every moan, every scream until they were completely spent and not have the energy to do anything else. It was their outlet to stop every attempt to do what they wanted to do; break it off with their partner.

They lay in her bed, naked, sweaty and full of shame.

            “I love her.” Cheston says, after having a few minutes of silence to catch their breath. You could hear in his voice how much it pained him to say those words. “But she’s moving away.”

It takes Eleanor a few more minutes to say what she wanted to say.

            “I love him.” She said with the truth. “But he doesn’t want to stay.”

Staring at the ceiling, it was clear, that this is the last time they would share a bed together.

            “I’m gonna follow her.” He decided. “Where ever she goes, I’ll be there to support her.”

You are my favorite notification.

I'm having a conversation with you,

That never happened.

And it's the most beautiful memory,

I will preserve.

Breezing through the chapters,

My imagination run wild.

Accelerating with every minute,

My heart thrums and thrums.

Keeping me caged in an illusion I created,

It's delicate and dangerous.

Pieces of me slowly disappear.

I'm tangled in what I've weaved,

The old is passing;

Getting lost to the unfamiliar,

I drown,

I soar,

Up and down I go,

I end up here.

...