So... my anxiety and I have what some people might call a "Friends With Benefits" relationship.
We have no love for each other but she still just like fucks with me sometimes, you know?
We moved in together a few years ago.
We have inside jokes.
Like when I say, "Imma go talk to that person over there." my anxiety looks at me and says, "Bitch, please."
My anxiety is the reason I didn't talk to you.
She's possessive.
She doesn't like me talking to other people.
She's irrational.
Because of her, I'll take the long way to my building to avoid someone I already passed by twice because I don't know if it's acceptable to say hey a third time.
Because of her, I don't correct people at restaurants who get my order wrong, I just eat it because, you know, maybe sweet potato fries are what I wanted but the broccoli you gave me is what I needed, thank you.
Because of her, I take the long way to my building to avoid someone who kinda looked like my ex boyfriend because whenever I hand her the aux cord, she makes sure to play back all the times he told me no one else would ever want me.
Because of her, I still think no one else would ever want me.
I constantly wonder... what happens to a... girl who's too anxious to feel like magic?
Can she still fly?
Can she still... fly with wings that tremble?
Can she forget the lifestyle of an ant?
That feeling that no matter what she does, she's in danger of being crushed.
And my anxiety doesn't like to be made into metaphors but what I'm trying to say is... she's constantly reminding me of how easy I am to crush.
As I speak, I am pushing against her weight on my shoulders and that is why I shake sometimes.
I have to fight to stand up straight.
Stop rocking...
She and I picked out this outfit together.
Something that drives fast.
If I am sweating, it is because doing this poem feels like fighting a boxing match that you can't ever see and I am determined to knock her out.
I have been fighting her for control of our house for years, fighting not to crack.
Stop rocking...
Don't shake...
Breathe...
I think the reason my relationships don't work out is because no one knows they're signing up for a threesome.
I understand.
I know how hard it is to live with the both of us when we don't like feeling out of control.
When we don't handle conflict well.
When we don't handle being yelled at well.
When everything you say to us will be repeated and deconstructed and analyzed in our head a million times after and if I am silent for a while... it is because I have to fight with her before I can fight with you.
I've tried to cut her off before.
I cannot.
We do not handle separation well because of our parents- I mean, our ex- I mean, our friends-
Breathe...
So I guess... my anxiety and I have learned to live together.
She's the longest relationship I've ever had and as everyone leaves... the only relationship that I can count on.
