The Real Me
2017-09-01 07:22:16 (UTC)

The One

I've suddenly turned into this player. fuck riaz. he was probably the last straw for me. I just don't really care, it doesn't affect me if they stay or go I feel almost indifferent

But I did meet this guy. .he has potential to be the one. Genuinely the one. And I don't feel any of the paranoia or fear that I normally do. He is the first person...i don't want seeing my crazy or me wanting to push him away. It's way too soon.. and if we were to not work I wouldn't really care much. Which I know is weird because Riaz wasn't the one nor was most the people that I dated or had relationships with in my 27 years but I was always afraid to lose them and I Maybe it's some sort of self esteem thing? A - aka maybe "The One" is on my level...atheist, similar culture, similar humour, similar likes etc like we sort of get along. But I don't see him on a pedestal above me Or maybe Riaz was just the last person I was ever going to feel hurt or heartbreak over. I wanted him as much as I had wanted to be loved by my family...which was a lot. And I don't know why...maybe it's because he was a silent storm like me..maybe because I could see through him...i hate when I see through damaged people..i used to feel connected to things that were torn...i suddenly don't feel that anymore...its stopped feeling like home and it's the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I think I'm finally over my PTSD. I think I'm finally over everything that has happened. And I have never in my life said or thought that. Maybe throwing myself into my fears and constantly dating and talking to random men has actually removed my PTSD. Maybe the stability in my job has helped...maybe the fact that the world has stopped spinning and throwing me off has helped job has been good for me, my new friends/colleagues have helped and finally cutting my father's side of the family has too.

I don't think about the abuse doesn't feel like a part of me anymore or my story, I feel like i was made for more than this. His death was fair game, his lack of love was fine and everything that happened to me, to mother and to him was just circumstantial, a series of events that were unfortunate but out of my hands. And some of these things may have altered my brain and my thinking but it doesn't define me- not completely because I am much more than just that. I am 16 years of living under that abuse, a couple more years of general abuse, a few years of utter independence, finding myself and freedom and a few years of finding people and places where I belong. I am a collection of all of these things.