Pausing my distressed state, I distracted myself diving deeply into gastronomy. Immersed and focused on fusing the flavors of carefully selected ingredients, I relished the finished product. Ingesting my creation, finding enjoyment in it, allowing a small measure of an easement to occur in my current state of dysfunction.
The problem at hand begged for inner reflection. Waking every morning was a ritual of opening the eyes and viewing out my bedroom window, just staring at the trees and listening to the sounds of nature. Sometimes for hours. Processing, mulling over and remembering every moment of pain. What felt like agony and torture initially gradually allowed a sense of understanding to move into the grey matter.
A deep need to release anger and frustration created a passion for a familiar act. I required the physical focus, a hungry attack on the flesh. It was an attempt at duplicating intensity, replacing pain with pleasure. And it was had.
Nobody ever says that, that those who fear falling in love have this tendency to be more affectionate and nurturing and gentle lovers. It’s not the fear of “falling in love” that they’re actually afraid of but the fear of “being in love.” The fear of being somewhere they’ve always wanted and the fear of not being worthy enough of it. Juansen Dizon – Philophobia
I was the golden warrior.
Found my place, made my name.
I chose you.
You were deemed worthy.
But then you pulled away.
Stayed but let me wonder.
Who am I now without you really there?
Felt shaken, unsure.
Forced me to beg.
I wasn’t sure anymore if I was desirable.
How could you do this?
I trusted you to love me whole.
Honor and love me forever.
This is how you respect me?
I let you in believing I was worth so much to you.