Loving you was ruining me.

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@beesflyanyway
Loving you was ruining me.

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Takako Ugachi: 'Quatre Saisons' (2020)
am i allowed to feel this?
love makes me so scared and so lost, but also so excited and so alive!
but i’m so unstable.
i still want to run away.
i still want to go home.
but it’s just little dates.
there’s no harm in having fun.
right?
“you being depressed just reminds me of living with dad…”
i sit alone in the dark of the midday gloom on a rainy day, in nothing but a blanket and undies, on the damp floor of the bathroom. knees pulled up to my chest, eyes puffy and red as tears spill over my cheeks and snot runs out my nose. the rain on the tin roof of my flat, drowns out the sound of my quite hitching sobs. i have sat far too long in this constant misery, in this city that was supposed to save me but instead caged me, and i’m begging my reflection to get out, repeating over and over and over, “i can’t do this anymore. i need to go home.”
but then my red eye, exhausted, falling apart little sister walks through the door. her usual hello gone as she retreats to her room without so much as a nod in my direction. i take a breath, wipe my eyes enough so the remainder of my sorrows is undetectable, i stand and i quietly put myself and my blanket around my little sister. she folds into me and i ask all the quiet questions, “what’s going on love?” she she falls apart and lets all the horribly heavy things tumble out into the open. while i sit and listen and offer little pieces of comfort where i can.
all i know is i desperately need to go home, i cannot live like this, but i cannot leave her her to hold herself alone. so i guess the only choice is to hold myself alone and stay with my little sister.

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nothing like someone sadder than you to pull you straight out of your own hole and into big sister mode.
i fell asleep next to you
you were warm
curled up into my pillows
breathing softly
and you didn’t reach for me
not like you used to
i didn’t reach for you
i woke up next to you
i woke up to you waking
to your gently ringing alarm
i felt you leave my bed and tuck me back in
and i popped my head up to see you off
and settled back down as the door clicked
and it felt so normal
so familiar
a whisper of a memory or a dream i once had
maybe i really was reaching for you after all
does the need to call me pull at the strings of your soul like the need to call you pulls at mine?
i hate being that person
but i miss my best friend
i miss her
i miss her
i miss her
i never thought about going back…
but what if i called?
because i miss her so much,
it aches somewhere deep i didn’t think i could ache…

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your biggest fear was losing me.
my biggest fear was losing me.
and that was the problem,
i was just some girl you were trying to fix.
im watching, and he can't look at me because i just broke his heart.
i think love is a difficult thing to think about. or rather it’s a complicated thing to think about it because maybe it’s both complex and incredibly simple.
i spend the better half of my childhood and late teens believing love was this wonderful feeling. this sweet warmth. this beautiful soft thing. something that just feels right. i spend most of my life believing love was a feeling. an experience that ends in marriage and family and a life joined with someone. it was a fantasy of love. something i’d made up. something the world told me was real.
but i learnt something in the ending of my first long term relationship. i learnt that the kind of ideas about love that i was fed as a child felt suffocating. they trapped me. they told me the only acceptable form of love was to give myself away to someone. and as someone who has always struggled with the question of who i was as well as being incredibly independent simultaneously. i was face with a choice. do i keep letting my person be who i am or do i find someone (if anyone) who would never impose a codependent identity.
i learnt something selfish about myself. my dreams do not contain anyone else, they contain me and only me. and the relationship i was in required me to share and change those dreams. and honestly as self absorbed as it seems, i do not think you should have to compromise who you are and who you want to be for the sake of love.
i found that love can be all those soft things that i had been fantasising about, it can be that feeling. but more than anything love is an action, a choice. and to choose someone else over myself is not worth love.
so moving forward i am me, at the front of who i am is my dreams and anyone who wishes to love me must accept that they come second. and anyone who i wish to love must realise thats what i want for them also. i wish not to be their world. i wish to be a witness to their dreams and i wish for them to be a witness to mine.
i wish for love to not be a trap. i wish to keep my soul intact, and if that means i cannot love again then i will not.
you know how we say that the right choice feels right,
i think everyone is wrong.
the choice i’m facing with, the choice i’m making feels so horrible,
and i know in every fibre of my body,
it’s the right one.

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me: i think there is something mildly enticing about setting your lungs on fire.
my sister: no there isn’t, you’re just suicidal.
i need out
i need to get out