Sunday, 24 August 2014

Imperfectly Imperfect

I hate myself

I never thought I would find myself in a position where I would loathe the person I am externally. I have always prided myself on the fact that no matter what, I always had the self-confidence to override my lack of external attractiveness. Apparently not…

In the animal kingdom the females are seldom beautiful. Their function is simple – to scorn male advances until a suitable mate arises and impregnates the female to ensure the survival of her species. However, in the world of humans it is not so simple. The coloured feathers and slender limbs of the peacock fall to the role of the female. It her prerogative to ensure that she is slim, sexy, and beautiful. If she lacks in attractiveness she is sure to fall short in this world.

I guess I am the equivalent of the female sparrow – brown and dour and altogether unattractive. That never really bothered me before. Sure the odd time someone made a comment about the colour of my skin or referred to me as the literal black sheep of the family it stung, but I always managed to pick myself back up and move on.

Not so now. Now I hate the very skin I find myself in and loathe myself further for the fact that I cannot just be happy with whom I am. It burns into the soul when the people you love and trust with every fibre of your being are the ones to turn around and tell you likewise. You are fat, unattractive, your sister is so much prettier, what happened to you… the list is endless and the scars it leaves never fades.

It is okay to be imperfect, I accepted that. I was comfortable knowing that as long as I was perfect for the right person it didn't matter. Yet, when that person can so easily point out that your sister isn’t fat but always pick on you, lines become blurred. Suddenly you aren't really perfect for that person but apparently your drop dead gorgeous older sister is. You constantly fall short and forever find yourself at the back of the line… the reject… doomed to remain imperfect till the end.

I hate myself.

I hate that I am imperfect.

I hate that I can never live up to societal expectations of who I should be.

I despise the skin I am in.

I wish I was someone else… anything but who I am right now….

I hate myself.

Saturday, 28 June 2014


A profound sense of loss settles in the centre of the abdomen. With it come sadness, emptiness, loneliness and generalised dysfunction. Considering the possibility that I might be a manic depressant does not seem that far-fetched when accompanied by the constant ups and downs of my emotions in the space of an hour.

Yes, it is not wise to think I have a problem when so many people out there actually do suffer from bipolar disorder. It just feels lonely out here at the edge of civilization. Cell phone service comes and goes and my relationships with the people I have left back in the big city feels tenuous at best. Coming back to the little farm town that is my home always makes me feel afraid. Life has a way of changing. It feels that when I am out of sight I am most definitely out of mind.

It is like a rollercoaster of emotions. It feels as though I will never be able to just be the simple carefree small town girl. The city has changed me. In many ways I have become a far better person than I ever was back home but in many more ways I feel like I have digressed. I find it so hard to just simply be happy and it feels as though I expect too much from life and the people I love. Expectations generally do lead to disappointment but should that be applicable when what you expect is not really far-fetched or unrealistic.

When I met him I never thought it would be so difficult for one person to open up to me. The ability to express my emotions has become that much easier and yet for him it is a labour. He cannot find it in him to share the emotions that course within him amygdala and constantly says it is for my own good. For my own good? What sort of bullshit is that!? How can it be for my own good when the only idea that I am left with is the realisation that his inability to share his feelings simply means he feels nothing for me. I get that some people are wired differently and their ability to express emotion is deterred by their fear of being hurt etc. Yet, how do I keep living in this world of supposed happiness when I never know where I stand in his life. How do I be happy knowing that I am giving up every piece of me to one person when they cannot do the same for me?

The reality is just that – he can walk away with his life intact while I am falling to pieces all because I am too caught up in this whirlpool of irrepressible emotions for this one human being while he feels nothing for me. That is the truth… If he felt even an iota of emotion toward me he would see how his detachment is breaking me apart, how much I am falling to pieces. He is incapable of freeing my soul from this constant uncertainty and sheer despair.

I have to accept the facts:

I am alone in my emotions

He may be fond of me but in no way does he love me

I am in too deep and falling too fast

I will be crushed

My world will collapse

And I will be alone again

And he will be unscathed

Thursday, 26 June 2014


A dedication to my muse – my everything

There is an old Greek legend that states that humans were created with two heads, four arms and four legs. Fearing their power, Zeus chose to split them in half and condemn them to a life constantly in search of each other.

It is one of those legends that encourage people to believe that out there exists someone to make them whole. It enforces the principle that soul mates do exist and that there really is only one person for each of us. This is pretty hard to believe when one realises that the ratio of females to males is so disproportionate that a lot of females out there will probably spend eternity searching and never finding the elusive one.

I always gave in to this cynical perspective. Being young and naïve it only seemed fitting that the chance of me finding a partner who was made for me was all bullshit. The world is filled with harsh truths and what makes it harder is that most of these truths are hidden behind well-disguised lies in the form of legends and fairy tales that we constantly repeat to our lonely and pathetic souls in hope that we can find a reason to wake up each morning. I never saw the point in doing so and my sole purpose for getting up each morning was to set out and make other people realise the same.

I guess one can say that I was pretty fucked up. However, I cannot be to blame for the sucker punch that life so ardently dealt out to me that made me become the cynical soul-sucking bitch that I was. I guess that’s the beauty of life. Sometimes you are allocated a not so fair proportion of pain and disappointment to make the beauty of what is still to come that much more amazing.

That’s the story I guess. In the midst of my crap storm upon humanity a male counterpart with one head, two arms and two legs stumbled into my life with as much grace as a bear doing ballet. The impregnable fort was just that though… no matter how hard I tried, and try I did the idea of giving up on my rant against soul mates and happily ever after continuously struggled against the reality that I had found it all in this one person.

If I thought I was an impregnable fort I have no words to describe just how impenetrable his defences were. He was (and still is) the Berlin Wall meets the Great Wall of China meets the Pentagon meets an overprotective father with a teenage daughter. The idea of letting me in terrifies him. He has all these booby traps set up for every time I make it passed one of his many layers. He fears the idea that he may need another person, may rely on them and fears more the idea that another person could care for him so truly and so unconditionally that they would spend years trying to get pass all those defences.

And that is what draws me to him. The vulnerability that resides within those walls, the person I have briefly glimpsed behind that fortress speaks to my soul. He is not a soul mate, he is not the one and he is none of the other things countless women spend their lives in search of. He is me. He is a part of me that hides behind years of heart ache and disappointment. He is the me I want to be, the me I strive to be and the me I never knew I could be. He sees all my flaws and is constantly at the receiving end of my bitterness with life, my bitchiness, my insecurities and my fears. Despite all of this he sees the me hidden in the darkest corner of my soul. He sees the person I am underneath it all – my potential and my capabilities – and strives to make it a reality. He deals with all my fucked up moods and crazy rants because he knows who I am. He knows that I am him.

Yeah, I am paranoid and pretty messed up. I fail to see the good and always expect the worst in situations and I always live with the fear that this is too good to be true. He knows that. He knows I am a terribly emotional, dead-beat gothic type creature who has had it rough in the world. He accepts that I am the darker side to him. Where he is the light that brings meaning and understanding, I am the shadows cast as the light shines, hiding all the imperfections but also bringing cool and shade from the brilliance that is him.

He calls himself Canopus, the second brightest star in the constellation.  Little does he know that to me he is Sirius, the brightest of the stars. He is the furious light that illuminates my world. He awakens my soul and brings life to the trembling child hiding behind her fortress. He is my Canopus.

Monday, 3 February 2014


She was doing that nervous habit of hers. Whenever she found herself in a particularly nerve-wrecking situation she would immediately start to click her nails together, the sound echoing through the deafening silence.

He smiled astutely to himself. Where once the sound grated at his nerves, it now sounded as a steady reminder of why they were meeting today. He studied her profile as she stood across from him. Her unruly waist length hair moved gently in the breeze with no semblance of order. Her dress, as always, fitted a little too tightly upon her chest but showed off her shapely figure just the way he loved it. Her face, though half covered by her mass of hair, displayed the obvious signs of distress. He knew that look well. She was afraid and most likely on the verge of tears and, judging by the fact that she was biting her lower lip, doing her very best to stifle a sob. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Come on Adam! Just get to the point of this meeting. You’re leaving, this is goodbye. Can we just hug and get it over with?”

She was the epitome of adorable when she was flustered. She had no real idea as to why we were actually meeting. She had made it clear – when I got that job I had applied for and would have to leave town she did not want to see me. She made it explicitly clear that she never wanted me to see her cry and yet I had defied her wishes and called her here today.

Our relationship was rocky at best. We had explored all possible avenues. We had been best of friends, lovers, even dated a little. When life took a turn for the worst for me, I found myself completely lost and confused and chose to end our relationship. We tried to stay away from each other, to let distance grow and have the relationship die out completely. However, just like the gravitational attraction between two objects, we found ourselves drawn back to each other. No matter how hard we tried to stay apart we ended up together. Now we stood as friends.

Friendship could not do justice for the depth of emotion I feel every time we speak. We are one and the same. If I were akin to the body she would be the soul that breathed life into me. We are in tune in every aspect of our beings. Not a second can go by without my mind straying to thoughts of her – be it her smile, fingers, moods or silly quirks. She consumes me.

“Anna… Don’t be so moody. It’s a glorious day and might I say I cannot for the life of me stop looking at your breasts.”

“Adam! Be serious here! I begged you not to call me up. You know I can’t say no to you. Please, can we just get this over with?”

“But Anna, where do I begin?”

“At the beginning would be a good idea?”

“The beginning of this life that I love starts from the moment we met. I know I haven’t been the best guy for you. I have hurt you, believe me I know. There were moments where I wanted to kick myself when I recalled the pain I inflicted upon you. Leaving you in the lurch like that, throwing aside my feelings and not considering yours when I went off to find myself. That was not fair on you. Yet you stuck through it all, you never abandoned me. Why are you so perfect Anna? I thought I would leave and this would be the end of it. One of us would go off and find another partner, get married, our friendship would fade… but when I think about that I feel a weight in my chest. I cannot breathe, Anna. Do you understand? The thought of going a second without you, the thought of you finding someone else, it tears me up. Anna I know I have not always been the best for you. I know you have to stay here for a few more years but I do not, for the life of me, want to leave this town knowing I will be leaving the only person who will ever love me the way you do.”

“Adam… I … what are you trying to say? I don’t understand.”

“Anna, all that I am asking is that you give us a try. We can do this. I love you and I know it has taken me far too long to realise this and I also know I hurt you plenty along the way to this realisation but Anna, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please say yes. Please say you love me too. Please say you will make this relationship work long enough for us to be united forever.”

The nervous tick is back. Click click click. I can see a tear roll down her cheek. She is biting her lip even harder now. I can actually see the delicate skin begin to split. My heart is racing. I never thought I would find someone this amazing and now that I have I cannot stand the idea of losing her. Please say yes Anna. Please!

“Adam, I never took you for the kind of guy who speaks so openly about his emotions and now that you have I… I always have the right words to say and now all I can think about is how much I cannot stand to lose you. But this is all too fast. I need to think. I need to go Adam. I’m sorry.”

She turned to leave. Her pretty orange dress swirls in the breeze as she takes off in a hurry and I cannot help but think this is my fault. I hurt her far too many times with my uncertainties. I constantly pushed her away when all she wanted was to heal my many wounds.

I quietly dig around in my pocket for a lighter and as I blow the cigarette smoke into the air, I cannot help but think I have blown out the flame that was Anna. The flame that burnt so bright. Dimmed by the pain of the heart I broke.

Thursday, 23 January 2014


Change is scary. If anything, it puts you 5, maybe 6, feet back instead of having you move forward. The scariest thing about change is when it appears out of the blue with no forewarning.

If someone had asked me two months ago where I expected to be in 2014 it would have been vastly different from the reality I find myself in. I never thought this year would start in much the same way that the previous year did – broken-hearted and lost. The proverbial Dear John letter was something I never foresaw in my future so one can only imagine the shock I found myself in when I received the “we should just be friends. It’s not you, it’s me” talk. This definitely did not bode well for the rest of the year.

So teary eyed, confused and scared I did the only logical thing I could think of. I shut myself off from emotions, from feeling anything. It worked well in the beginning but given the depth of emotion I put into this one singular person it is no shock I found myself slowly going insane. I admit, I tried really hard to hate him, at least that way I could find a way to move on, but the reality was and still is that love cannot be marred by hate. As clichéd as this may sound, the proof is in the pudding. I cannot hate him.

Anger became my best friend. Oh the thoughts that swirled through my mind for days on end served as my only solitude. I was baffled as to how all this came about. When I look back I realised just how much I held back, how afraid I was. I was so unsure as to what I was doing that the first time around I found myself stammering through the Dear John speech. Yet, he stuck by me through it all and when he deemed it fit he planted that sinful kiss upon my lips beneath the star strewn sky and sealed our fate. If that is not enough to confuse a person, his profession of love to me was the signature at the end of the contract. For long I knew exactly how I felt about him but fear and trepidation held me back and yet there he was, casually expressing his feelings to me. Little did I know that later his feelings would fade into the background as they have done in previous relationships, whereas I would find it impossible to forget how I felt. What served to perplex me further was his constant optimism. While I was comfortable living with the idea that this encounter would come to naught, he constantly questioned my reasoning insisting that there was a future. After all I possessed “all the qualities he was looking for in a wife”.

It is no surprise that when he confessed to being unsure whether I was the one or what he wanted in his future I was terribly taken aback. Having given in to him completely and shedding all my trepidation it shocked me to hear him say “sometimes love isn’t enough”. It was clear as day that he never loved me at all. He confused whatever lust and enjoyment he gained from my presence as love and in so doing pushed me down the rabbit hole.

I loathe change for it has achieved nothing short of unhinging me and turning my world upside down. I have found myself friends with the only person I ever loved and as much as it tears me apart I am so afraid of losing that constant in my life that here I am trying my hardest to separate love from friendship.

While change is meant to push you forward and open you up to new experiences this change is the most daunting I have ever had to face. The heart wants what the heart wants but life has other ideas. There is nothing else to do but soldier on and pray that this time change will work in my favour.

Monday, 23 December 2013

Questions of the broken soul

Most everyday I find myself wondering why I put myself through the same routines over and over again. Why do I set myself up to be hurt? Why am I constantly attracted to those who are not on the same page as me, who do not want the same as me, who second guess everything while I simply know?

He asked me, "Mimz, how do you know if someone is the one?" I had no answer to this question because from the moment he stole my heart I never once questioned whether he was the one or not. I just knew it. It is not something you have to think about or wonder about. It is something you feel in your bones. It is this age old understanding that is built into your genome. The moment you love honestly and truly, that is the moment you know and you never for a second doubt it. You can only imagine how hurt I was when he asked me that. Knowing that he questioned my position as the one when I never doubted him for a second spoke volumes for itself.

Saying you love someone is easy. However, building yourself up and finding yourself in another person before proclaiming love is completely different. You give in to that person in a whole new way and that is when you know you could never survive a day without them. Yet now that I know that he does not see me as the one, I am unable to process my next step. How am I to continue on with a person who does not see me as that? How can he be the one for me? The feeling is suppose to be reciprocated, right? Is he not suppose to see me in the same light?

We all have fears. Some of us are afraid of dogs and others of commitment but does that fear not fade away when you find love? Or am I simply living in a fool's paradise? Believing that everything fixes itself when you find true love does actually sound very far-fetched. I held on to that childish notion for a long time and he, he proved me wrong in a second. When you lose the innocence of childhood what are you left with but the darkness of reality? You are left with despair and hopelessness and all that wonder and naivety disappears because of one individual.

When you believe someone to be the one you hold on with a desperate hope and that only means that every doubt they share with you tears into your marrow. It destroys you from the inside. I guess I never thought that the one person I would love so truly would also be the one who would break me beyond repair. I do not see myself recovering from this blow. I just see myself fighting for his love day in and day out only for him to hurt me every time he says he is not sure about me.

When will he be sure? Will I ever be the one? Or will he continue leading me down the garden path never giving me a chance to move on when he strikes the inevitable blow?

I wish I had the answers...

Thursday, 5 December 2013

You Just Don't!

You just do not get it do you? This world, all its colours and beauty, everything is for you. Every moment is meant to be shared with you. Every molecule of air carries the scent of you. Every light is dim in comparison and every shadow dissipates in your presence.

You just do not get it. You encompass all that is true and meaningful in my mind. You encroach upon every thought until all I can think about is you. There is nothing more important or more real in this endless array of dismay than you. You are and always will be the answer.

Yet you still do not get it. You are my confidant. You are akin to the lock box in the darkest most unlikely of places. You hold within you all my secrets, all my intimate thoughts, hopes and dreams. Every going on, no matter how mundane is known by you. There is not a moment in my meagre existence that I would not want to share with you.

You are my best friend but still you do not get it. I trust you to a fault. I would follow you to the ends of the earth and still trust that you would bring me home safely. I have given over to you completely, entrusted everything of me with you. I trust that you would never break my heart or tear my world apart because my world is you.

How can you not get it? It is everything and it is nothing. It is the fact that if you would agree I would introduce you to my family without a second thought. It is the reality that I could never be your friend alone. It is the knowledge that this will never be a meaningful, serious relationship to you. It is the fact that you will read this and not think it is about you because the truth is the idea of being in a relationship with me scares you. You would rather toy with my emotions all the while keeping me at arms-length should you feel I’m not good enough for you. It is summed up in the understanding that you want everything that comes with a relationship but the relationship itself because I am not even worth that much to you.

And yet you still do not get it. It amazes me. You are everything to me and you just don’t get it. Or is it that you choose not to? There really is no knowing for sure.

You just do not get it.