herlucidlife

It’s usually the life in between the trauma that makes it feel worlds away. It’s the moments in the middle of this life that makes it seem surreal. I smoke to run away from the idea that life could be better than what it is. Am I really ready to maintain something greater than what I have? I drink to run away from the thoughts of not smoking. I do both to run away from the feeling of not feeling any substance taint the reality of sobriety. I purchase items to feel a rush that only occurs during the small moment of picking the item off the shelf, instant gratification is no longer instant but imaginary. Sitting on my sofa, I rearranged the furniture looking for a shift in my mind, I believe it helped something. 

Thinking over life, crying to music that touches the soul. I miss every single person that’s ever crossed my path and more over I miss the feeling I had when with them. Chasing a feeling that is fleeting, experiences don’t house the same drug. Recreating stories with other folks doesn’t work, different characters can’t fill another’s shoes. Letting go, I’ve been in a state of destruction but it’s needed to walk into repair. Repairing my mind when I look at myself. Getting better at thinking highly of me, speaking things over myself that are healthy.

 I’ve noticed backward thinking when it comes to certain things, topics I was raised on when seeing interracial couples. Taught to not partake, growing up with a mother who didn’t look highly upon the idea while my father had no trust toward the fairer skinned ethnicity…different upbringings. It’s not right, ugly thoughts pop into my head pushing them aside. I do not like this part of myself. Asking hard questions, the reality of disliking “who dates who” is really an issue that has not been resolved in one’s heart. A learned idea needs to be undone. 

I’ve been uncomfortable with the smallness of dating. I don’t remember how it feels to get to know someone. The process is slow and painful, yearning to get to the seriousness of it all. Obsessed with the idea of you and I, it’s irrational to be so engulfed. When feelings are involved things get fragile and can easily be broken. My mind and heart are intertwined, feeding each other like conjoined twins. The mind feeds images of you to the heart, while she sinks her teeth into the aroma of what could be. 

Fear, not of God, birthed from punishment, it is stealing the joy out of the slow motions being made toward each other. At the beginning I have no place to question you or at least that’s what I’ve told myself. Perhaps clarity is great at any stage of dating. Sliding into your DMs… “I like you a lot…do you like me?” Seemingly smitten, I already knew you liked me yet I needed to hear it from you. The energy was everything I needed in order to understand your language.

What if overthinking is a sign of being an inconsiderate person? Consumed with one’s own thoughts, constantly thinking about how the other perceived me. Concentrated on self like a prize won off the shelf. So many others walk amongst me with pain just as heavy as mine, energy could be given to so much more than overthinking a thought that never crossed the other’s mind.