Standing across the room enjoying good company, I am still in a sitty mood. flashbacks are coming. I am sweating, my temperature’s rising, my heart is pounding. I spent my time being busy , maybe this will help me , I am thinking with emotions and not with good common sense. That comes as no big surprise, I have this tendency to follow my emotions . With this said , I have allowed myself to be consumed by my, “big fat heart full of emotions that have lead to the path of being broken for 6 years. At this point I see him looking me over , I am not open to a simple hello. My eyes have said it all. Jump back my friend , don’t let the eyes fool you .
I am in my own world, and it is not safe for you here. I am pissed.
After working very hard to allow myself the freedom to just be. To learn, to forgive, and most important to let go of the things that I cannot change.
I have flipped the script. My good intentions and emotions , and giving ways are slipping back to yester-year.
I don’t like myself for this, yet I just cannot help myself.
As the crowd seems to be dying down, I roll my eyes while looking you up and down ( I might have said something about your character,which if I recall was not very friendly nor lady like. . You know the look: Don’t f*ck with me today . I am pissed, I am hurt, I am revengeful.
My inner voice is trying to speak : stop this , you are on the edge and this is not your intended target.
Why are you walking towards me ? What do I have to do “Go Sybil” on your ass? Can you not see that I am in that dark place . No I don’t want to know your name , no I am not coming home with you ( re-thinking this, maybe that is just what I need). But , I cannot let go of this mad evil person that is about to bust a move on you .
I hear a whisper in my ear, I feel regret, I feel empty , I feel sorry that this may be another missed chance.
I am being a hard ass, being downright rude. Yet here you are again. So far I haven’t heard anything but Sybil talking .. I am just here to past the time. Speaking of time , I need to go to my bitch – cave . There I can enjoy my hurt , anger and ever demanding need to unpack my biker boots and cause mayhem and chaos. There I can ALONE enjoy this little nasty person that has come to life again.
Coffee you ask? mmm, there goes the eye rolling again. Yet you seem not to notice or you simply enjoy the art of pain.
I sit down, the coffee is lacking vodka, Oh I want to fly on my broomstick back to the Bitch – cave.
OMG, are you showing real concern for my attitude? The mouth opens and out comes my inner voice. Slow your roll.
As the time approached to leave , I barely said goodbye, giving you my number, thinking “Whatever” . Of course you will never call I have reduced myself to calling my home a Bitch – cave , allowing the anger , disappointment ( Oh God , so many disappointments) to lose myself in the anger. jumping out of the taxi , I hightail it back into the party . I look around, I look down.. thinking another missed chance.
Then the phone rings . Sybil has left with the toothless biker and I am OK.
My website . www.brokenopenscars.com
- Why I’m a bitch (Part 1) (thesfarm.wordpress.com)
- Who Needs to Take Anger Management Classes Anyway? (healthylifestyleplus.com)
- evening meditation on fear and anger (earthspeaks2013.wordpress.com)