The Center

At first—I truly believed that it was You that caused all of this— this eruption of pain at a time where I was supposed to be jubilant—happy— and truly freed from the prison of my pains. Then I saw that it was not all You— It was the one that loved me most, too, tangled in some clouded shroud of hunger— hunger for You—and not I— See, that is what is killing me right now— not that you sabotaged us, for whatever reason— but because it came to the point where I was not in the center anymore. I needed to be in the center, and now I am just ashamed— mind, body and soul—ashamed. Maybe one day you will look at what I have written and know that this is about You— not the one that loves me most—but You, the one for a moment who off-centered something just too beautiful to be perfect. And it pains me, because I thanked you! I had to be in the center again and look like the good girl— and make you feel so good! —I thanked you! And now, I sob some nights wondering if it is me— if there is something wrong with me, or if there is someone or something better to satisfy your shadowy hungers— and it is not about You anymore, and maybe it never was— now it is about mending Us. And I know we both want that— but my fear is—can it be attained? at least I have woken up to realize that I— I—I was never in The Center and I never will be. And that is perfectly OK because “perfectly OK” is better than broken into bits and left with nothing— and I love him. For being imperfect, and for waking me up— he did not mean to, but he woke me up. And so did You. 1.22.20