You are always home

Tog 17-og dana avgusta

Iznela sam svoju poslednju kutiju

Iz tvoje kuće (nikad više naše)

Na putu do svoje

Prosipala nevidljivu srču

Da ima šta da boli

Kad prolazim starim krajem

I boli

pijem džin iz nove kristalne čaše

I danas

365 dana kasnije, dok godišnjicu dajem

Na putu

Izmedju mene i tebe

Rat

Ali ne onaj naš, stari

Kad si moju ljubav doživljavao kao napad na sebe

Kad si jedva čekao da najzad odem

Nego pravi

I ne znam više šta je strašnije

Što i dalje plačem

Kao da si već umro

(Mislim da sam ipak ja mrtva)

Ili što se ja, paganka, molim Bogu

Da te čuva od povampirene značke

Da ne budeš nikome žrtva

Kad ideš, pospan, kroz komšiluk u plamenu

Po hranu za svoje (nikad više naše)

She was 17

Met her first love

He told her how night colors suit her vampire skin

Fast forward through hell

He chose another girl

that looks so much like her,

And she felt discarded. So broken within.

The sister wound appeared.

She was 19

A boy held her hand and made her laugh

at art classes. Told her sweet little lies.

Never kissed her, but liked undressing her

with his words and eyes.

Fast forward through friendship and drunkeness

He married a girl that looked almost exactly

like her

a Sister

And she felt worthless

The wound grew bigger.

She was 23

Met a man with black-hole for a soul

But she loved his darkness

'Cause the dark is where she felt safe, in the end

He was clinging to her like a lost dog

But then ended up with her best friend

Soul Sister

It's okay, she whispered, he wasn't mine

But it broke her heart, a bit more

And she was so used to it,

must be someone from above

Playing sky-chess.

Sisters before everyone else, she said

As she burried another half-love

What a mess.

She was 31

Stumbled upon a man

Too intimidated of her dark

But too intrigued to leave her alone

After years of pretending he's a friend

He told her he has a new girl

who carried her name and was a designer,

like her.

A Sister.

You can have him. It doesn't hurt.

She's too numb to feel it all.

And the wound...like a gaping hole.

She decorated it, made a home.

Little house of pain.

She adored women

Hid her sister-wound in her shadow

But it was all in vain...

She was 36

It was time to face her demons

Festering wounds that never healed

She found a boy in a man

The one who broke open her wall of stones

Made her feel adored again

Until he told her

There is another girl

A Sister...

So beautiful

A younger version of her

I see the pattern, finally

She thought, as she pulled away, took a final bow

We are all so beautiful and I am worthy

I can see my karma now.

All the little girl in me ever wanted is to be chosen

To feel special somehow

And the woman I am today can provide all that

In a blink of an eye.

She left...like she doesn't care.

Applied some pressure to the scar

Everything was obsolete

She knew better

She would rather die

As some distant fading Star

Than to compete

I cut myself on a

piece of your broken heart

Hey man, do you have some free time this week? That morning at your place left a bitter taste on my tongue and a heavy feeling on my shoulders and I can't shake it off alone. I really need to talk to you.

First, I want to just ask you to hold space for my feelings as I did for yours, because you know I am not in a good place, too. And I have a lot shit that I am dealing with and I need to deal with in the near future.

I am not the one to talk about what this is or could be, as you know, I feel like I am disconnected from everything. But I do know how our last meeting made me feel.

You told me how you felt used until something else, something better comes along - funny, that is exactly how I felt that morning. I don't know if you consciously or subconsciously projected that on me, but that is exactly how it felt. You left me confused. Because the night before you told me many lovely things and the most important one is that you felt safe with me. And I appreciate that.

But then you brought up the other girl. Which is fine, we are not in a relationship and you did what I asked you to...You've been honest. So, thanks. But I realised something about myself. I cannot be there for you emotionally while you're figuring out how you feel about other girl(s). I cannot be both your therapist friend and your friend with benefit.

I am a high value woman and I love and respect myself. And I demand respect from people I am involved with. I don't know if I said or did something that triggered you, but I felt you pushed me away that morning. You pulled me close that night, then you maybe saw the real me and not just a fantasy, and you pushed me away. That is how I percieve it.

You said some things that cleary put a veto on a possible relationship between us. It's not often that I think about having a real, commited monogamous relationship with you in the future but that is what made me feel that you are just having sex with me and having slow evenings, funny conversations and craving cuddles with me because it's the only thing available right now. Not because you see me as a real person, with real feelings. Not because you like me. Just because you know I'd show up.

Seems like I can only be that emotionally invested with the person I am sleeping with if they are also my partner. Not just a fuck buddy.

When it comes to real monogamous relationships I am like you. It's only us, against the world.

But seems like the thought of it triggers you. Because you said you could never date a bi girl, because you'd feel inadequate. I understand. And I don't think you can change that. I don't know. And you also compared me to your ex. That made me uncomfortable.

It hurt. Like I said, I don't want to use people, I don't want to use you, while I figure my shit out and I don't want you to use me, either. So, would you like to put a pause on this situationship and explore other options?

I don't want to see anybody else. But I have a lot of pain I need to process, plus the break up, plus the move. So... I don't know. I don't think I have the capacity right now, to deal with more complicated emotions. I really like you. That morning really hurt. I liked how you opened up to me the night before, but I hated how you pushed me away after.

I really cherish our connection and I think it's rare.

At least for me. The compatibility, the chemistry...everything. Maybe you just don't feel the same. And that is okay. But it's not fair. I don't wish more pain to you nor myself. And I don't want to feel like a dealer of cheap dopamine.

Maybe it's the wrong time for us, again.

What do you think?

Ovo piše moja ranjena unutrašnja tinejdžerka.

Sećam se alegorije o vuku. Zima je i izgladneli vuk upada u zamku koju mu lovac postavi a zamka je krvavi bodež, balčak mu je zariven u led. Glad je toliko jaka da vuk halapljivo liže krv sa nje i ne primećuje da se povređuje i da sopstvenu krv meša s krvlju na bodežu. Svi znamo kakav je kraj ove priče.

E pa...tako i ja. Celoga života upadam u sopstvene zamke. Kažem: "evo ti oružje, sama sam ga napravila." Kažem: "Jedino ono može da me ubije".

Stavljam ti oružje u ruke, kažem: "hoću da vidim da li ćeš me ubiti".

Još nisam naišla na osobu koja nije.

Umrla sam hiljadu puta. Je l postoji zavisnost od bola? Ako da, ja sam zavisnik. Od smrti isto. Pravila sam kućicu od bola. Moju zonu (ne)komfora. Zar i dalje misliš da ne zaslužuješ da budeš srećna, M? Da ne zaslužuješ ljubav? Ne, ne, ne...toliko smo dugo ušivali te rane, M. Ne otvaraj ih ponovo.

Pitam se, zašto se mrzim toliko? Gde je taj zaštitnik u meni koji me je čuvao od čudovišta dok sam bila mala?

Gde je zaštitnik, kad je unutrašnji mučitelj tu?

Gde?

Pa ja nikad ne bih povredila nekoga do koga mi je stalo! Ne namerno. Ne tako. Ne kad je najranjiviji. Vučem repove iz prošlih života, valjda. Zašto onda povređujem samu sebe iznova i iznova?

Zar nije moja dužnost da se čuvam? Da štitim svoje izranjavano srce? Ne znam koliko će me još trpeti.

To moje srce.

Nisam ja žrtva. Ja sam ratnica. Ali ratnica koja ratuje protiv sebe. Dokle? Dokle samo-sabotaža?

Dokle ogoljavanje pred lovcima? Dokle ću piti sopstvenu krv jer ne mogu da popunim tu prazninu u duši? Ne postoji ništa što može da je popuni.

Pa i ne treba mi ništa. Neka zjapi.

Da li je realno da sada, kada treba da se radujem, kada započinjem život iznova(ili po prvi put zapravo živim) opet radim istu stvar?

Opet sam tu, držim prostor nekome ko je previše sjeban da shvati šta misli i šta želi...a ne misli o meni. Ne želi mene. Tj. želi me kad mu je zgodno. Dok ne naiđe neka zgodnija (prilika).

Gde je granica između prijatelja i benefita? Da li je istina ono što zapravo tražim? Da li je istina da nemam nimalo samopoštovanja? Kažeš: "ali shvataš li da ako ovome dodje kraj, to nema veze sa tvojom vrednošću?" "Mmmmmm. Da. Važi."

Ili su to samo tvoje projekcije? Uveče kažeš da se sa mnom osećaš bezbedno, ujutru mi zariješ nož u srce. Da, odgurni me jer sam ti previše blizu.

Da li sam zapravo samo preuzela tvoje demone na sopstvena pleća? Ako jesam, odričem ih se.

Odričem se odgovornosti za tudje mrakove.

Nisam ti ja terapeut. Nemam kapacitet da ti budem i terapeut i ljubavnica. Ne želim.

Nije fer. Ja nisam žrtva.

Ovo prestaje sada.

Vučem granicu kod krvavog bodeža.

Povlačim svu energiju koju sam ti dala.

Ne možeš da imaš moć nad mojom dušom i telom.

Samo ja imam tu moć.

Ne treba mi tvoja "ne-ljubav".

Evo ti tvoj krvavi bodež nazad.

Zbogom.