I wasn’t real.
They, on the other hand, might have been. But I would never know.
Because until I was able to get real, nothing was real. What I came face to face with was the reality that I didn’t know how to be real. I was too busy trying to be perfect.
Trying to figure out what it was they wanted me to be and then being that. Trying to prove my worthiness, my perfectness, my "perfect girlfriend-ness".
That’s all I knew. And that’s what I thought mattered.
I knew I wanted someone to choose me, to make me feel like something. To give a life to fit into. To give me a world to fit into and a role to play. To give me the instruction sheet on how to do a relationship.
Just tell me what you want me to be and I’ll be it. Continue Reading