Matrimony Made Unmaking

I never believed in love. I figured, if it doesn’t believe in you why should you believe in it? I believed in myself, and I still hold onto this. This belief in myself above all else. I become my own deity, not to say it’s ego driven, just knowing that if I’m drowning there isn’t anything that will be sent down to save me. I gotta grip my hand, pull up, and get myself out of the well.

Cue, me now, writing some of the best poetry I’ve ever written hands down and I have love. I have the best kind of love, safe, easy, always there, strong, compassionate, giving, considerate, and always appreciating me for what and who I am.

How many times you’ve been told you’re broken so love will never find you?

I have, but the funny thing is, it’s not true.

My parents married out of necessity. I had a brother before me, my mother was divorced, and my dad just fell in love with the hurricane that is my mother. She said either buck up and marry me, I don’t have time for games, or get the hell out. They were married in three months. My mother needed a father figure for my brother.

He still speaks warmly that my mother knows the best places to go to (she does, honestly, honing pigeon of a woman) and what she comes up with is exciting.

My mother talks less now about how much she distastes my dad. And, my dad had his own times where the power flipped. But, it was never healthy. There’s so many different things I see where I go, well, I can see why my own ways of repeating history happened. Even though, I always screamed from the rooftops I was strong.

When I met the love of my life, I wasn’t looking. I never am looking. I would prefer to be left alone and just left to my own devices. Remember, the only thing that can save me is myself? Add a person to that and it almost always would turn out, well, not good.

Our rituals we have in our relationship are sacred and I love them. We always kiss when we wake up in the morning or return to each other in bed. He is basically like my silent editor you never see with my poetry getting his help if I feel like it needs some extra something. I share all of myself with him and don’t feel like a fear he will use anything against me. Which was a constant.

I was raised from a system of love that I knew I didn’t want. So, I thought I didn’t want love period. Just goes to show that I wanted it, just the kind that gives, receives, trusts, and embodies you like cashmere sunsets.

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