that girl

I'll never forget the day I woke up and decided not to let that girl bring out that girl in me.

It's just how easily she has everything I work so hard not to need. All the unconditional attention and appreciation I crave but don't demand is wasted in the vortex of her entitlement. It's irritating. It's unfair. It's bullshit.

That girl is the one that triggers all your insecurities like she's walking through the laser beam security system of your mind. She's not so much a person as she is an archetypal representation of the things you've never felt you were but always wanted to be.  It's not personal and yet it's the most personal experience to allow someone to influence your self perception.

That girl  is me when I don't even feel...definite. I feel formless, shapeless, hollow. I've compared myself until I forgot it was me I was comparing and not just who I wish I thought I was against who I think she thinks she is. Me when I don't wanna be me mostly because...who the hell is that worth being?

I had been torturing myself with questions that made no sense because they were all stemming from doubting my importance or relevance to someone who was so important and everything relevant to me. Now that I look back, was I trying to destroy myself? Who in their right mind would place their importance in a vessel of no reciprocation? Of course I'd feel shitty about myself- looking for validation externally is like drinking salt water when you're thirsty.

That girl is the one that has more confidence than a midsummer hive has honey. And as many bees. She's like, perfected the art of not being afraid to say what she wants yet not being desperate about it while still being vulnerably needy. Somehow she's also managed to maintain a balance between drama and innocence- enough to make her interesting but enough to make her dramatic. 

That girl is me spluttering over my attempts to contain my sensitivity while getting stung by the bees that ain't even checking my hive out .  That girl is me wondering if there's an art to being hopelessly desperate and needy without being vulnerable. Somehow I've managed to be innocently dramatic which is apparently not the same thing as being interesting. 

It took me a while to realize it wasn't even about her. She was the last thing it was about. It was all about me. These are the type of things that make you realize that no matter how selfless you unconsciously believe yourself to be, it always boils down to being about YOU. Not good, not bad- it's called the journey of self awareness I suppose. 

It was all about me comparing myself. Cruelest thing you could possibly do to your sense of self. At the end of the day it's just another cliche punching me in the face. Because it's the lesson of self love. Loving myself enough to not compare myself- and it's never even virtue against virtue. It's my weakness against their virtue. What kinda sick joke is that?

That girl is just a complex human like yourself.
That girl  is just a complex part of yourself.

I used to swear that I'd never be that girl.