I feel attached to you like laces to your shoes. Or like your stupid perfume sticks to my clothes when you leave. I promise I try to rub it off, I change my clothes, I pretend it’s not there, I shower, I put on different perfumes. Yet there it stays, and the more I perceive it the more I miss the idea of you, yet not you. In the same way, I pretend I can push you away, but the more I do that the more I desire you, or the idea of you.

Sometimes I think too highly of myself, I pride myself of having learnt from past mistakes and of now being free from the shackles of attachment. Yet, I forget I’m still human. That I am not more special than anyone else who’s been socialised like this. That freeing my self-worth from your romantic approval is so fucking hard.

I wonder what is left of us, of me and you, before I decided to embark in this journey towards your approval. I feel lost, confused, I see who I was before I centralised my energies onto you, yet I can’t quite be that person again.

I miss relating to you with a genuine, selfless curiosity. Now that feels so far away. I wonder: when was the last time I asked you if you are happy without putting myself in the equation to your contempt? When’s the last time I inquired what makes you feel alive, without wondering if you feel alive with me? what makes you sad, without trying to fix it; what you want and need from life, without trying to be exactly that.

I feel attached to you like laces to your shoes, the more you pull away the tighter my grip.