The Masseuse Didn’t Text Good Morning…

This is a post I wrote April 13, a few days before I broke up with The Masseuse. I didn’t like how I felt. It wasn’t all his fault. I placed a lot of pressure on that new relationship for many reasons. So three weeks later, here it is.

I feel the anxiety in my body right now. He didn’t text good morning ya’ll. That’s why it’s there.

He didn’t text good morning.

I was anxious this morning upon waking, too early, hours earlier than I needed or wanted to wake up.

Spinning on different ideas that are a stress to me right now

-moving

-the masseuse

-quarantine

-work

-family

-friends

-loneliness

spin spin spin.

So much of it came back to The Masseuse though.

A memory came to me from when I was five; it’s how I was feeling this morning.

I peeled open the layers of the flower bud to make it bloom. Company was coming and I wanted the flowers to be pretty for my mom. She may have even lamented that they weren’t blooming yet. I could see that. I wanted to fix it maybe. But I’m really not sure about that. I know for sure I wanted those flowers to be open and full and blooming now damnit. So I opened them.

Didn’t work out too well as you might imagine. It fucked them all up. They couldn’t bloom properly. They were just limp there.

My mom was livid because I didn’t stop with one for some reason. I did it to a bunch of them. Yeah I was a little shit. Why didn’t I stop? Did I take pleasure in the destruction? Did I have hope it would be different THIS time? The last one sounds like me. I’ve written about how I’ve approached relationships with a half full glass perspective, hmmm yeahhh I can live with that half glass.

Why?

Why am I checking inside to see “what I can live with”?

I was laying there this morning mulling what’s happened over the last week, how it doesn’t feel good, how sad I’ve felt and I know I should cut it loose probably.

But I see the potential in it, the possible bloom and I keep thinking if I give it some space, some sun, some water it will be something beautiful.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Pexels.com

2 thoughts on “The Masseuse Didn’t Text Good Morning…

  1. Reminds me of trying to help butterflies escape…the struggle is how they survive…like my children…and me too. Struggle brings strength…
    Xxx
    Naomi

    Liked by 2 people

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