I seek for what I don’t understand.

Maybe because I never sought to understand it before.

Seasonally, another untouched chapter opens

Daily I am confronted with my brokenness

Daily I reflect and wonder, “what did I sign up for?”

This wasn’t in the contract

This is not the script we discussed

Had I fully read the fine print, I probably would have adjusted the terms of the agreement

Do you see why I was ready to leave?

Why I can’t stand the invasion of space?

Why for several years I made you stand in the doorway?

Yet, upon your entrance, I gained no clarity in this space.

I’m always waiting.

Waiting for answers that are accompanied with understanding

Waiting for relieve

Waiting for confirmation.

Do I trust myself?

No. No, I don’t

I am also not ready to trust another

Not, here. Not in this space

Not yet.

Am I?

Not sure.

Yet in this season, you have magnified my curiosity.

This curiosity irritates me because it has ruined my focus.

It has made me vulnerable.

Yet, because of my very nature, I feel bound by my curiosity.

There are days where I want answers.

There are days when I don’t.

There are days where I pray for selective amnesia.

There are days when I am convinced it is all in my head.

This is hard. I wait for answers, while I watch from a distance

Collecting evidence to prove my point.

Waiting for him to move on.

A visible response to my questions, where the answer is clear cut.

What if I don’t want an answer?

What if I don’t want another?

What if it was him all along?

What if he was exactly what I prayed for?

Or what if there’s another more fitting for me?

When did this become a space-occupying thought?

I am troubled by this.

Truth is, I’m no closer to clarity than I was years ago.

I am tired, but alert.

Fed up but too exhausted to fight.

So I linger.

Until next time,