me
Me
me
not David
not Jared
I'm too needy
too desperate
too wanting
why do I need anyone to complete me
fuck that
I am enough
me
I woke up this morning and asked google
is there a thing as a soul mate
here's the thing,
google said
the concept implies
that you're not whole without someone else
on and on it went
it's toxic
it's a dead end
it's a geographic proximity
it's a romantic ideal
it's not what I thought at all
I threw my duffel bag in the trunk of my car
started the car
and waited
since I had no parents to go to for wisdom
google replaced them
this is the new world
but even scientists don't have the answer
except they show you a chart
and have a table of contents
the soulmate trap
destiny believers
growth believers
helplessness
I went to my favorite cafe
got a large caffe latte
headed to New York
one comment I saw stuck with me
I believe in love not in soul mates.
I know that driving to New York
was nuts
continuing this affair was not right
but the connection I had with Jared
was undeniable
it was as if he filled up my emotional emptiness
with his arms wrapped around me
yet
I knew I could not be with Jared in the real world
going on four years of this craziness
I played some music
and kept driving
didn't stop once
arrived at the hotel at one p.m.
I'm here
parking my car in their lot
In a meeting
going to the Met
Meet you there after my meeting
I left my baggage in the front with a ticket
W New York - Times Square
I walked out and started to walk
I already knew in my guts
he would not show up at the museum
I went to the Greek statues
waited
he had told me those were his favorite
I waited
texted
nothing
working babe
sorry
I will make it up to you
the words in my throat
got caught again
I don't know why I cried
it was ridiculous
I was waiting for the unattainable
why was I more comfortable in misery
than happiness?
one thing I knew as I stepped out of the museum
stop expecting the unexpected
I walked for another hour exhausted and hungry
I checked my phone
message from David checking in
I replied back to him
and Jared asking me where I was
finished fleur
come quick
I have a suite
17th floor
room 1702
On my way
sometimes a city becomes a poem
a poem becomes a city
your feelings become puddles you step on