220

I didn't expect this unexpected

The me before you was raised and indoctrinated to believe I am worthless, stupid, incapable, a maid, a sex toy, thoughtless, opinionless, ugly, seen, not heard and my worth was tied to the state of my home, my appearance and how many times my womb grew to the size of a watermelon.

The me before you was shattered. I didn’t know who I was therefore I couldn’t begin to pick up the pieces.

The me before you was terrified of breathing, of waking up to see a new sunrise.

The me before you was naive to her reality of abuse.

The me before you was composed of unkept promises.

The me before you was a stranger to calm. The concept of safety was foreign.

The me before you was in survival mode. She went hours and sometimes days without eating due to the adrenaline fuel of the next shoe that would be dropped.

The me before you was only aware of one type of flooring; eggshells.

The me before you knew a house full of punched walls, slamming doors and a bed that held me up when his hands held me down.

The me before you was comforted by being screamed at.

The me before you didn’t hope.

The me before you was too much yet not enough.

The me before you didn’t cry, not due to happiness but rather the desensitization of myself.

The me before you wasn’t lost. She was kept in the shadows, unaware of possibilities.

The me before you knew my home was my prison and I would not have a Shawshank Redemption moment.

The me before you: insecure, scared, weak, unhealthy, beaten, broken, burnt-out, exasperated, stressed, burdened and unknown.

…..and I was happy or so I was taught to believe. It wasn’t becoming of a woman to complain, and so, I didn’t.

And then….

There was you.

Unexpectedly.

Unplanned.

Uncommon.

Unique.

Understanding.

Unconditionally.

Like an all-consuming wave, you crashed into me.

Unsure.

And I haven’t let go.

It’s been slow.

Friends to enemies to lovers trope.

I manifested too hard when I said I lived my life as a rom-com. What is more rom-com than friends to enemies to lovers?? I’ll wait.

You’re stubborn but I love a challenge and I don’t lose so my stubbornness outshone your stubbornness.

I ripped open your self-stitched emotional scars and poured salt on them.

You kept me hovering over the ledge; easy for you to let go if you so chose.

I have made more than a few shitty choices along the way in our evolving relationship.

I hurt you and you hurt me.

But you see me. You SAW me and I you.

It was tender.

It was vulnerable.

It was beautifully ugly.

It was a dumpster fire.

You were the three fingers that point back at me when I point my finger at you.

It was uncomfortable and I hated you for it. I dug my heels in. I thought, “How fucking dare you call me out, you problematic asshole!”

But… I couldn’t let go.

I knew I needed the uncomfortable. I needed you to challenge me, to pour hydrogen peroxide onto my wounds. I needed you to be there as I healed versus ignoring the blood that oozed from my decades of harm.

No eggshells. No holes in the walls. No doors slamming. No screaming. No vicious name-calling. No silent treatment.

Trust.

Clear Communication.

Uncomfortable.

Emotions.

Calm.

Patience.

Growing pains.

Therapy.

Understanding.

Listening.

Accountability.

Honesty.

Laughter.

Boundaries.

60/40 50/50 80/20 90/10 70/30.

Seeing.

Love.

Dancing in the kitchen.

You didn’t pick up the first piece of myself, I did that, but you’ve picked up many since and placed them where they belong.

Every night I fall asleep on your lap with your hand running through my hair and down my back is a new piece.

When you look at me and call me up to the stand of self is another piece.

When your lips touch mine, another piece falls into place.

As you laugh at my bullshit, the pieces fall together.

When you set me in places where I am met with uncomfortable emotions, it is a new piece.

Engaging in conversations whether flirty, political, emotional, growth-inducing or full-on silly nonsense, it is another piece of me you are putting back together.

You have read every chapter of my story. There isn’t one untold.

You have witnessed my naked soul.

You paint me with emotion.

Your arms are the place I run to when the weight of the world buries me.

You encourage my shenanigans and engage with them.

You are my speed dial.

You are my 220.

Tomorrow, we will step onto a plane together and it’s more than a holiday, it is the beginning of a new era. It isn’t a reset, I am not going back to my default settings. The curse of my first thirty-three years of life comes to an end tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will write the first sentence in the second book of my life story and it begins with two suitcases rolling along the tile of our international airport, my fingers entwined with yours.

I don't know what I accomplished in another life to deserve the one you give my kids and me and perhaps I'll never know; it is the honour of my life to be your girlfriend.

There is now only me with you and I am still falling for you.