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Sedated

“Darlin’, don’t you, stand there watching, won’t you

come and save me from it.

Darlin’, don’t you, join in, you’re supposed to

drag me away from it.” (Sedated; Hozier)

 
Nothing about it was healthy. I know that now, but those sorts of things are only visible in hindsight. I didn’t stand up for myself, as I was made to feel as though I was constantly wrong about everything. Yet I loved it, in some strange part of myself; quite likely the same part that addiction is stored. Effort, on my part, destroyed me, piece by piece. I resorted to some kind of numb state, in which I no longer thought for myself. It was not okay, in any way. What would be the guiding parental hand was lacking in my case, and I continued. I believed that they all knew best, and that I was the problem. I attempted conversation, which seemed to go well, that is, until I would hear back from the lips of the one I loved; “She doesn’t like it when you natter at her,” but was I nattering, or was I attempting to build a relationship? These situations grew conditions, and soon enough, I wasn’t allowed to speak at all. Before I ended my captivity, I was told that all communication, on my part, was to be treated purely transactionally.


You and I made lunch together yesterday. It was lovely. Simplicity, in food, and most aspects of life, can be quite refreshing. I slowly approached you, while you stood, captivated by the television in the next room. I lightly wrapped my arms around you, and pressed my head to your chest, only to be completely welcomed with open arms. I was pulled in tighter, and you kissed the top of my head, setting my mind to lighter thoughts.

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