I am Anonymous. I live in a classic, breath taking, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling type of home. House. It’s a house. It was the house I dreamed of. It was the back yard with palm trees I always wanted. In the sun it glistens, it reflects an idea of what I dreamed up long ago. At night the stars show it’s truth, their eyes are too scattered and immense to not see what truly hides in plain sight.
I paid for it. Not financially, my husband, the person I hate the most gives the most. But I gave more, I gave my life. Willingly. I was conscious for every decision. I was there to say I do, there to walk in and out of these doors just to walk back in at my own accord. I scream at my kids like they are the reason I am miserable, I don’t say those words, but they know. I can see it in their eyes, they look at me less and less every day. They will never know me. I don’t know me anymore.
They say in heaven there is a mansion with many rooms, I should have waited for the mansion that won’t be my choice.
But here I am, on the dying side of life. They say I can get out but they don’t know my mind, how many times I have walked out just to turn around before my hand gripped the steering wheel of a car I never have to drive.
I am a name that will never be known. I will fade away into all the “things” that were never really even here.
*Based on a true life story, some where out there.
This is here because of something my ex recently sent me, and that I have heard before and even before that. “Good luck finding someone who will treat you better.” Anyone else ever heard that?
Why do people feel the need to say that? Since when is the way someone treats you the reason to love them and stay with them. Maybe that is why I stayed with the wrong person too long. I mean there is always some type of love. But I will never make it in this life if I continuously choose someone because of how they treat me or what they can physically give me.
I want someone to give me more. I want someone to give me their mind and for me to accept it for all it is. I want someone to give me their heart and feel the need to protect it with all that I am. I want someone’s soul that can keep mine company for as long as they enjoy each other, hopefully sitting side by side in a rocking chair.
Like in the story above, the husband? He was a good guy. He did everything for her. Gave her everything. But the “things” that really mattered were never there.
I have asked myself a question for a very long time. The question is, would I rather be with someone that loves me more than I love them, or vice versa? Do I want to be the one to love more?
I have a friend that once proposed the theory that in a relationship there is always one person that cares/loves more. I believe this to be mostly true. Could there be exceptions? Sure. Always. But that leaves me with the same question for you, and really think about it because my answer now is different than it was 8 years ago. Also, keep in mind this isn’t a scenario like the story above where one is on the hate side of love. There is still love on both sides but just a visible difference in the depth. Would you rather be with someone that loves you more or someone that you love more?
I mean ultimately we all want to be with someone that there is no visible difference, of course. It is possible for every one of us to find that love in this life. BUT if you are in a crazy universe where you had to choose one or the other, what do you choose?
I hope you all find the soul that fits in the rocking chair beside you. Much love.