A November Writing Challenge

You, Me, Us, We

As soon as I heard “inspiration” I knew it had to be about you,
But then something incredible happened; something I never imagined;
I suddenly realized that it has stopped being about you.
It’s no longer about you, but I'm not sure when it even stopped.

Now, I’m finally allowing myself to let it be about me.
At last, I am the main character in my own play.
Hell, I’m barely looking to see if you’re in the audience these days.
Is your seat vacant? Where was the seat? I’m not even paying attention anymore.

This is monumental for me, because you’ve been my everything for so long,
And now, it’s me. It’s the mirror that inspires me. It’s the mirror that says I can.
I now look within and remind myself of all I’ve already accomplished…
And all without you, you’ve been in my corner, but you’ve not been HERE.

I am having the time of my life just learning to live on my own again.
I’m regaining the strength I once had to do everything I wanted.
I don’t check with myself to see IF I can do it; I just schedule a time to succeed.
I don’t echo your plan for me back to you. I inform you of my decisions. It’s different.

I was a caterpillar for so long and you were my protective cocoon.
I almost died inside the hard shell you built around me to keep me safe from the world.
You did it for my own good while I struggled against you and pushed
And, for a time, I left you, hollow, discarded, and broken, waving in the wind.

I stretched out my wings without thinking about the carnage though.
I found the sunniest spot and I struggled and pushed and persevered.
Had you not held me so tight, I would have never wanted to escape the confines
Of you. Warm, suffocating, holding me securely and killing me all at once.

Leaving you was the beginning of my whole new world, my rebirth so to speak.
It was the hardest thing I’ve had to do that I did by my choice alone.
Leaving your protection, your safety, your arms, your heart…you.
And the way I miss all of that, the severity with which I miss it, is soul snatching.

My body reacts without my permission when I think about where I came from.
My eyes swell with tears that spring from various fountains within me: pride, pain, joy.
My chest heaves up and down as if my heart is threatening to find you without me.
My muscles tense and harden just wishing they could feel your hands on my skin again.

And my thoughts always refocus on one thing: I had to be strong for the both of us.
I did it for us. That thing you attempted, but could never seem to commit to just for you.
I couldn’t let myself die there, with you surrounding me for my own “good”, any more than
I wanted to kill you by letting you try to build a house in which neither of us would flourish.

When I look back on all of it. All of the love I unfairly demanded from you, but wouldn’t accept;
All of the love I threw at you, that I unknowingly smothered you with, that you reluctantly resisted;
All of the ways we pushed and pulled each other, trying to create enough distance for growth;
All of the passion that was always just beneath the surface of every exhausting interaction…

Damn it, my passion is still you, but it’s different now. You are a want and not a need.
Of course I can grow, thrive, survive, and even enjoy life without you by my side.
And I guess this piece is still somewhat about you, but it’s even more about me, because
At this moment, you are only in it because I choose to let you share my gaze.

Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy