There was the one who taught me all about self-worth, while clouding his own insecurities in a drug haze. There was the one who brought sunshine and adventure back in my life, just to leave me for his own adventures that were more important. There was the one who pushed me to do more art, yet wouldn't let me have the freedom to be me and express myself.
Then there was the one who made me feel young and free and invincible again, but adored his own freedom more than me. That one. Reeling me in, then pushing me away - so many times over. Mad chemistry, insanely fun nights, but unable to give. Always dropping me off at my car the next morning with a smile, a shy kiss and a sigh of relief.
Then the artist, insanely talented. Fun, spontaneous, social, available. Perfect fit? Yeah, until he wasn't so available after all because his heart still belonged to someone else. Didn't see that one coming at all.
And most recently the musician. A dreamer just like me, a million ideas of what to do with his life, ruled by passion, driven by adventure, reaching for a miracle because it is possible, damn it. He made me laugh. But with his head in the clouds, he cannot see where his feet are taking him. I guess he assumed, I was the clouds.
So here I am every time, staring at this fucking swirly bedroom ceiling, probably created by some underpaid Mexican, wondering what the fuck? Universe, what are you telling me? What is my path? Where is my place? Maybe it's time to move on. Because if I know one thing, it's that when things are right, everything just falls into place. Everything.
What happened to my adventurous spirit? When I could make up my mind overnight, and follow a dream to the other end of the world, never looking back. No doubt, no fear. Determined. Bulldozing the way to my future. Ruled by passion, driven by adventure.
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