what else can i be

it’s not so much that i mind giving up my reality for a time – that can be delicious and necessary, like molting. wriggling free from the skin of your former perspective on the world. a world that surrounds you, comes from you. most of the time we don’t get rid of the old skins entirely. we unwrap and try to shed the routine way of thinking after, say, an intense conversation with partners-in -ntoxication, or a broken heart. but we end up with an unsightly mess of dead skin, scar tissue, and occasionally the glow of a calm, clear vision of the way things are.

the problem is being forced to dance to the tune of someone else’s reality. when my reality collided with hers, there was no sympathetic fusion. my reality was eighty per cent subjugated. queen-of-hearts style. there’s her way, and my way limping somewhere far behind.