SteemMonster Pack Contest. Play My Little Game. [Your First Real Love Never Leaves You; It's true.]

Come here, Steem creatures, I want to talk to you up close. Come and whisper about nightmares and dreamscapes.

I met a man a long time ago. I was eight or nine years old when I met him by chance in an old Buick 8, and from first glance he had me fascinated. He filled my little bag of bones with a sense of wonder, reverence, and unbridled, exhilarating terror. I loved him.

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Our encounters always seemed too brief, rushed by my mother's vigilant eye. “You’re too young, you’re not ready.” That was her response to my desperate pleas… and soon he was gone from my life, placed on a high shelf to collect dust, waiting for me to be “ready.”

I moved on, finding ways to keep myself occupied, but nothing seemed to touch that curious, shadowy place deep down. The dark half of me. I didn’t give up my quest though and finally years later my persistence paid off. “I’m thirteen! How much older would you like me to be?!” Lady grudgingly gave into my increasing demands.

Our reunion was better than I could have possibly imagined, all of the feelings I’d experienced before flooded back, with the pressure of my newfound ‘maturity’ and understanding giving just enough push to break the gates. I couldn’t get enough, I needed more and more of him, a growing addiction… Sometimes though life smacks you in the face and sends you flying off course.

I wound up in Florida not long after and when I returned I was too busy with my teenage life to bother with the man who’d made me feel so deeply, I released my dark obsession.

^{@accio doodles}

He refused to be pushed completely out of my life though, he would creep up in unexpected places… I would see him here and there, while wandering a garage sale, while walking into my favorite book store, even at my own Grama’s house. Many times I would pass with nothing more than a longing gaze, thinking to myself I’m too busy for you right now.

Occasionally we did connect for swift reminders of why I loved… will always love… him so deeply. Of why he holds an irreplaceable piece of my heart, he keepts it locked away in a dark tower leaving a small unfillable hole for the cool gusts of my soul to seep through. Those moments feel as close to magical as any moment can I suppose… We had a moment this morning.

I have been not quite myself lately.

^{“Guilt is like a sore, endlessly fascinating,
and the guilty party feels compelled to examine it and pick at it,
so that it never really heals.”}

Stricken with a bout of anemia that I feel I’m really beginning to recover from… but something deeper as well. A pit, a seemingly endless void of melancholy and despair, with burning edges of restlessness and resent has been growing inside of me… coming very close at times to swallowing me whole. Yesterday I cried. I do not cry very often, and if you ever happen to hear me mention that I cried I mean that a single tear, maybe two escaped silently and were brushed away before they could fall from my face. Right now though, I mean I cried. I sobbed, I lost my breath, my face was soaked with acid tears and I nearly went through a roll of toilet paper on my nose. When I finally calmed down I was disgusted at myself.

I do not cry like a bitch. My head was left pounding from the experience, feeling like it may just cave into that pit so I took some Tylenol. I don’t do that either, not unless I’m in so much pain that I can hardly move, but I did it. I confessed to a loved one in so many words that I hate life, that I hate myself, that I can’t see light anywhere. I confessed that I’ve resigned to my fate of misery and hardship…

THAT IS NOT ME.

I’m a fighter. I’ll fight anyone, anything, bring it on. I’ll fuck up anything in my path so stay out of my way. THAT is me. Fight, fight until you find a way, you got this. THAT IS ME. Smile, laugh through the pain and dance it out and it doesn’t touch your soul, a firestarter, a gunslinger. THAT IS ME. Crying like a bitch on my back steps because things are going to be hard? I don’t know who that is, where they came from, how they got in but it is not me.

I went to sleep miserable, as miserable as I’ve been the past while, at four past midnight and when I woke up… Well there he was, waiting for me. I didn’t question his presence. I dove into him without reservation and he, with his beautiful words, reminded me almost instantly of who I am. He reminded me of how I once felt…

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Afraid and obsessing over if vacuuming three times would be enough, if I’d done enough. Empty and defeated letting the bad happen, taking the damage with clenched teeth and no screams. He reminded me of how it felt to wake up from my stupor… Terror giving way to unquenchable rage and determination of steel. He reminded me of the strength I have waiting just on the other side of that pit, just beyond the weepy spector that seems to be trying to claim my body. He made me feel things that I needed to feel. He reminded me...

I’m really Rosie,
And I’m Rosie Real,
You better believe me,
I’m a great big deal…
-Maurice Sendak

He gave breath to the fire inside of me today. Quite the creature he is.

Have you guessed it yet? Have you guessed my first lasting love? I’ve left you quite a few clues…

The first correct guess will win a free SteemMonster booster pack ;)

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