He knows the inflections in the tone of my voice. He knows if I’m smiling or crying silently. He speaks me fluently. And when I cry myself to sleep I feel him. Holding me. Maybe I’m delusional. But, I feel his presence as I back my body up into him. I can smell his scent. I feel his beard against my neck. I wake up recharged. Maybe it’s because, when we fall asleep our mirror images meet amongst the cosmos and stars and as our avatars fill our space in beds. We can’t sleep. Take the pain away. We go through the motions and count down the days. The closer it gets the more I miss him. I check fbop daily just to see if this mission has an early completion. My heart I keep extending. Lately it’s got the best of me. I inhale my clients problems. I loan them my breath to help them breathe. I’ve had more than a handful tell me that hush goes into their therapy expense category. On Sundays I detox. My entire body physically hurts. I take my job home and receive so many texts I can’t keep up with my life. It’s taking away from my duty of being the perfect wife. But, he knows me so well. He helps me through the flames as I’m lost in hell. I follow his voice. He is my addiction. Understands the affliction. Suffering and self sabotage. Reminds me I’m worthy and of ALL my gifts. He encourages me to write. To regurgitate the suffering inside. Flush the Hushed life I lead. The thought of not having him I can’t even conceive. I’m so fucking tired of taking the lead. Some days I’m beyond tired of being strong. As the days get closer I dream about becoming a mother. My clock ticks louder with each day. I hate myself for the mistakes I’ve made. I could have a mini us. But, no fear took over and that gift was flushed. I’ll never forgive myself for that. I live with that pain everyday. His kindness and patience is how I self medicate. My fingers move so fast. I don’t even know what I’m typing. I do a spell check and publish the pain inside me.
This was a really tough weekend. I’m under the gun. I can’t even fathom the thought of having some fun. He says I’m wound so tight. I need to loosen up. I don’t know how. I’m on a money chase. I’m doing my very best to grind with grace when lately all I feel is rage. I’m back to my fuck you pay me mentality. My kindness taken for weakness is what I feel in me. I sip my baileys and contemplate. How I plan to win this race. Because, nobody remembers second place. I’m here to win. With him. I have the right to remain silent. I’m ALL in.
Memoirs of a Mastermind 