He's elusive and I'm awake.

On free-writing a character profile of the past that I'd like to forget.

A photo of me from this period. So desperately wanting the love that she couldn’t give herself.

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A mystery now, to me and you.

I think the scar tissue that resulted from the pain of our time together will stay with me forever. Over a decade has passed, and a song can whisk me right back into that moment in time. Physically so, it seems.

Seeing what I saw then, in front of me now.

Smelling the sent of the dorm room I had my heart broken in so many times before.

Feeling like that moment was the very present and feeling somber at the realization of how quickly time has passed.

Not too long ago this current moment in time would feel like a lifetime away.

I know I’m not the sole survivor of this hopeless romantic’s love, there were others before and during me. We never got to the happy ending we both dreamed of, many times out loud together. And the hard truth of it all is that we were never meant to.

I wonder if we both were just subconsciously killing time. Knowing full well we did not belong together, in this lifetime or any other. Nevertheless, I was made to feel like a lucky charm. Excitedly proclaiming how much my love had changed their world, changed them—how my acts of kindness towards them even when they weren’t deserving inspired them to be a better person. But not for me, at least not in time.

I didn’t want to be someone whose age lines consisted of regret for having settled for the likes of them. Going back to this liminal space that included them, revolved around them, reminds me of my moments of silliness. Not “haha” silly. But, “girl wtf are you doing?” silly.

I recently heard the term mythomania and of course, I thought of them. It explained how they could say the sky was purple with the best poker face and be genuinely shocked when I didn’t believe them. I’m embarrassed at the amount of times I just went along with it and said “yeah, isn’t it beautiful?” instead of calling them on their shit.

Worst of all were the tales told for shock value like the death of a loved one, parental abuse, and even a cancer diagnosis. No wonder so many people eventually gave them the cold shoulder, when their claim to fame was never being able to tell the truth and being a loose cannon at the mouth. They couldn’t keep mind control over everyone.

I look back now on some of our interactions then and wish my response to their words was a command to take a bow. So many times they proclaimed me to be the insecure drama queen, keeping the theatrics up. But it was them who deserved the Oscar. I guess we both deserved to share the stage because I played the part of the damsel in distress with hungry eyes needing to be loved by them quite well. Going against my natural instincts and hanging on to every word of the tall tales they told. There was no honor system because the foundation was built on shaky ground in the first place.

Hearing “Elusive” not too long ago brought me back here. To them. Hearing “He’s elusive and I’m awake” will always render a fight or flight response either turning it off or getting lost in the thought. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say some part of me will forever carry the memories of our time and serve as a reminder to always choose me. Because I never want to feel like a missing person to myself again.

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This was prompted..

Every month GG Renee Hill releases a list of writing prompts for each day of the month with an accompanying workshop on the first Friday where we write from the prompts together and share.

During these sessions I either pick one prompt and stick with it or try to use as many of the prompts as I can to write one long piece. How did I do with October’s?

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