Vibration

My Reiki healer tells me all the time, direct quote: “your vibration is higher than any person that I you have ever dated. You need to work on you so when you do date these insecure people they don’t attach to you and you are no longer their food.  You are a higher vibration and they feed off of you because they are curious.” (I asked her to clarify this recently and she noted: these ppl are awesome, you don't pick poorly. They just need some work and then they'll match you).

What they're curious of, I’m not sure. I’m pretty awesome but that is only what I believe… and perception isn’t always reality. 

And for the record, I have NEVER thought anyone I dated was below me or a bottom feeder except maybe one who led me on for 3 weeks after one date. The rest?? I've loved them all for a plethora of reasons. And my healer also knows this. :) 

They all say the same thing.

Well, forms of it. 

They tell me they’re fucked up. And some are.

They tell me they don’t want this and get back online in 3.5 weeks or days. What exactly were you looking for again???

They say they want to play the field. Okay cool. Put that on your dating profile. Please.

They say it’s not you it’s me. 

They tell me how wonderful I am, that I’m the sweetest person they’ve ever dated, I’m the best person I know, that I’m more than enough (all direct quotes as well) and I believe them… but I don’t.

Why? Because of this:
Why doesn’t anyone stay? 

Sometimes I know I dodged a bullet with some. The last one, especially. The last one took all the good about me and twisted into their narcissist web. Dead set on ruining me, isolating me, belittling me daily next to compliments that I believed. The weren't a bullet, but a grenade. A deadly, deadly grenade. 

But not everyone is a bullet set to kill.  

I wonder if any of them will come back to me— fly in a holding pattern to land whenever and wherever that is. I have one I’d give the world to come back to me and probably never will. Or will they? I think maybe it could happen. Could. 

One did come back once but for a moment. 

So I write. 

I write pages and pages of poetry, hoping my favorite will come back to me, but also because I have so so many beautiful words that I can't keep inside me. 

They must live out here in the universe for someone, hopefully her, to read.

So here they are.

Would you read every thing I’ve ever written? 
If so, are "they" or you the ONE?

I always thought “the one” would be the one who read every single writing of mine like it meant everything, traced my tattoos in the candlelight with their finger, 

and then stayed. 

Or who wouldn’t be afraid of the fact that I have my wedding ideas stored away and words I want to say when I propose (yeah, I have that written somewhat) and a ring in my bathroom hiding for the right moment. Not just ANY ring. The one.

I am mostly everything you're looking for and more even though I'm not perfect. I have flaws I work on all the time.

But you check all the boxes of someone I want for forever.

Who does all this, says all this? 

What’s wrong with me?

Nothing.

Nothing but fucking love.

Love is what is wrong with me.

But they, like everyone before, if I could throw them through a window of an open car door that’s cruising down the freeway I would. Maybe not quite that level of awful, but anything startling and shocking enough to wake them the fuck up. 

Oh, not to wake up to me. 

I chose myself years ago. 

I’m whole all by myself. 

But not to wake up to me, oh no.

So they could see if they would only accept the love they think they deserved, they’d choose themselves, too. 

Then, I hope, me.

But they’d also see healthy love for what it actually is and not an irrational fear or something that longs too, to relax in the arms of someone who would never leave, that longs so see love for what it should be not love as chaos and trauma. Someone who will NEVER be their ex who did all of those things. Ask any of my people who have known me my entire life. They’ll tell you, too, that I’m the best. The sweetest. That I’m as loyal as the day is long. link 

There are all sorts of addictions in the world. 

Mine is love and all of its friends. 

I used to think that if love was poison I would drink it anyways. So I did. It nearly killed me. At least three times. It still might. 

Maybe I still would drink it. 

Maybe I am now. 

Maybe I always will. 

But I’d choose YOU, poison or not. 

Why? 

So I can give someone the love they never knew they’d find? 

Maybe. 

Because I desperately want my person? 

Maybe. 

But also no.

Mostly because maybe, just maybe if I showed someone what they could have and who they were they would change everything about how they see themselves. 

But I don’t think that has ever happened. People are old and weird and stubborn and set in their ways. 

Yet, I’d choose you poison or not. 

Why? 

Because you’re so so worth it.