"Risen from ash...I eat men like air."
I'm looking through my books of scribbled notes of poetry, calculus worksheets with notes in the corners, watching my train of thought over the course of a long year--that went by rather quickly. Like I discovered a wormhole while driving my red Pontiac Sunfire on these sad backroads of Maryland, propelling me into the future a year later, knocking me on my ass.
I find this scrawled violently in one of my notebooks. The thought just reared it's head one day while in Astronomy (my notes were regarding quasars) and I remember quickly scribbling it down as some form of foreign inspiration transfixed in my mind.
I come to the sudden realization and horror that what I wrote is true. In my life, relationships are like rubber bands. They stretch and snap back so many times that eventually something breaks and there's no way to repair the damage that has already been done.
Why am I writing on relaitonships so much lately? Maybe it's because I was hospitalized for a suicide attempt,or diagnosed with a Borderline Personality, or desperately trying to push my future husband away from me? Maybe this has caused me to look back at all the people i've wronged because of how I am. How i've hurt them. How I respond in relationships. And how I'm potentially destroying the current relationship i'm in now.
Beginnings have always been easy for me, and yet, after the entrance into my mirror of a life, you would know something wasn't quite right.
Am I evil? Or just fucked up beyond repair?