One thing I’ve been challenging myself with is writing when I’m happy. I’ve always been someone who knows exactly what to say when I’m in pain, but never when things are going well. I never feel authentic when I write from a happy place because it feels forced or somehow edited to meet a certain expectation. It’s been a great challenge to try and overcome, and I’m having some success. This is one of the more successful attempts.
Being honest is hard, for the record. Before my boyfriend and I got together, I definitely thought he would be in my life for a brief amount of time (AKA one night or so) and that would be it. But here we are, still together after three months, which has flown by in the blink of an eye. In some ways, it’s been a difficult thing to come to terms with. The fact we ended up together, happy no less, is not what I imagined, but something I am absolutely OK with.
You were supposed to be a shot of Novocain.
Something to dull the ache
To cover the bruises in my ribcage
A temporary fix to a greater problem.
You were supposed to be nothing more.
You were supposed to be stitches
Something to stop the bleeding
To repair the physical body after trauma
A fix that eventually gets removed.
You were supposed to be a short-term thing.
You were supposed to briefly fix me
Something to make this all OK
To numb the pain I felt all around
A stand in for something down the road
You were supposed to disappear in the end.
You have become so much more
Someone I rely on nearly everyday
To help me navigate this every-changing world
A constant force beside me now.
You are so much more than I imagined.