”How are you feeling?” she asked, as if she had done something wrong. So easily slipping back in to a role that she was so tired of playing. A role of compromising her deepest self, her potential self, her strengths and her power. Diminishing herself almost entirely to sooth the emotional needs of those around her, and oh, had she been praised for that. Received lavishing titles like ”the most nurturing and loving woman” one had ever met, and ”the most good-hearted, warm and harmonious being” one knew. And they where right. She was ruled by venus so nurturing and loving came naturally for her in every gesture and word she put out into the world, but that was only one aspect of her. There was a fire inside of her waiting to be unleashed, and an urge to be respected and adorned in a non-confining way.
These walls scared her. She couldn’t help but feeling imprisoned by being with someone who has formed a perception of who she was not yet knowing the vastness of her being. One who has formed a perception never really seeing her fire, her darkness, her wrath and her destructive forces. To be honest she had rarely seen them herself, but she knew they where there, boiling underneath her soft skin and gentle touch. How could anyone say they loved her? They didn’t know her, ’cause she didn't show.
She had grown used to bending and scooting over, compromising her space, time and energy. It was a game she was good at. At times she would resign to the thought of living to nurture a man spiritually, that in return would nurture her physically and materially, so she was attracted to the doers, the go-getters, and she never spared her love. Any man catching her interest where up for an experience of the most loving care-taking, and passionate love-making, so intense it could not easily be forgotten. Not even as one found himself at the church steps marrying another girl could he shake the memory of the impeccable presence in her love. She was not to be forgotten, she was magic. But just like her interest could be sparked by just one mysterious glance, or one firm hand proving confidence and decisiveness, as could the lit flame die if she was not instantly met with the same passion and desire for unified growth. Not yet had she met a man that could carry her intensity as she would carry his vulnerability in her loving hands.
She had found herself a man of stability. A man that would nurture her, cause she was broken down loving dead souls so fearlessly, so naively some would say (although she would not use that word, her fearless love was her strength, and she thought naivety had a negative ring to it). She was in need of receiving, as she had given her all, so she had found him. He was a good man. He loved to spoil her both physically and spiritually. He was always there for her, always listening, always steady during her storms and always sharing his warmth when she was freezing. But something had started growing in her. A restlessness that she could not shake. As he was spoiling her with his presence, his care, his love and all of his goodness she found herself completely bored. Boredom grew into restlessness and restlessness grew into hostility. She didn’t want to but she was trembling inside for some adventure, some friction, anything that could make her feel like she wasn’t wasting her time, like she wasn’t dead.
”How are you feeling?” she asked, because she believed that she had scared him with her fierce energy and direct way of cutting his attempts to reach her. She was sure that she had knocked him off of his stable feet, so she asked him ”how are you feeling?” with a mixed sense of guilt and contempt. She needed a man that could handle her. All of her.
None of them where used to her being hostile and curt, but she had refused to text him back all day, not even picking his calls. When she did call back she had told him she needed to be alone, said that she found it pointless to text each other twenty times a day asking ”what are you doing?” receiving the same answer every time. And now she was mad because she thought he had felt hurt as she was just pointing out the obvious - aimless texting is nonsensical and should not be a way in which we spend our time. She thought he had felt offended, that maybe the daily texting, to him, was some kind of affirmation that ”we love each other and we want to be together all the time”, and that her telling him she doesn't want it meant that she did not love him. What if she didn’t? What if she couldn’t after this? She was not to be confined and she felt the walls tightening around her, him needing her to be available at all times. She had to get out. And still…
”How are you feeling?” she asked, as if she had done something wrong. So easily slipping back in to a role that she was so tired of playing. She’s going to have to comfort him, she thought. Assure him that she still loves him even though she doesn't want to spend her time casually texting 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Apologize for her self, and her need to spend her time in a meaningful, fulfilling way. Compromising herself and her potential again. Endless compromising.
”How are you feeling?” she asked, as if she had done something wrong, and he replied, ”I am great” as if she had done everything right. No hurt in his voice, no blame on his tongue. Can you imagine it took but 3 words spilled by him, to erase a 1000-word story that her mind created out of thin air.
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