In the past, yes, I was an apparition. Wild and curly hair, carefully washed eyelashes and always dressed to the last. That was important to me. That gave me confirmation. I was pretty. And I could even make money from it. I worked in the most superficial of all industries. I was a model. I’ve always had fans kicking their hooves and my friends loved hearing stories from the world of fashion. To the town I come from, I was special and lived a great life. You would think I would have been happy.
I loved the feeling of being in love, that bubbly tickle in my stomach. And I loved the familiar. So it made sense that he would never be alone for long.
The love of life as a great goal?
So I jumped from a long term relationship to a long term relationship. Sweep between stormy relationships and calm waters. In that decade I gave myself just a few weeks to heal and settle in, in short. I didn’t even know there was something to heal. I didn’t feel complete without another human being by my side. And anyway, the stated goal is love of life. Or not?
As a result, things were always the same way. Names, faces and places changed. But my relationships worked according to scheme X. They fell in love with the femme fatale that I was on the surface, quickly realized that she wouldn’t run away from me anymore, and ended up cheating on me.
My relationships have always been the same.
Poor me. I liked the victim role at the time. An idiot, my friends agreed with me. But at some point I was amazed by the fact that my relationships were always the same way.
How is that possible when all these men were so different?
Just me, I’ve always stayed the same. Because I had no idea who I really am, what I want. I didn’t feel myself if I didn’t feel a man by my side.
