25 parts Ongoing Maturenothing in my life has ever been mine, any of my choices, my favourite things, the people i've been with, my body that somehow seems to belong to someone else, anyone else. it's all my fault though, i was meant to fight it, i never should've let myself fill the mold that was laid out for me. now it's too late, i ruined the first real relationship i had, one that showed me and everyone who ever underestimated my desire for commitment, mainly my parents, to have no fear. i can settle down. well, i thought i could at least for the past two years, not anymore.
so i chose to invest all of me into something bigger and now i'm in the waiting room of a company where i applied for the job i want to be mine. i didn't listen to anyone else's input, i didn't really let them weigh in, the decision is mine.
after further consideration, that's not the full truth, maybe i no longer want to be hired for this position if it means it could also be hers. the woman i met in the bathroom earlier. our conversation barely took a few minutes, but it was enough to make me wish i never started it, to make me want to erase everything i've put into this since submitting my CV. the way she carried herself and how composed she seemed, especially compared to me at that moment, were stronger than the illusion of sympathy and comfort she radiated. i hate when i can't read people and she is an example of the reason. it causes me to feel weak and that's how she must've perceived me, which is why it's the way i currently see myself. everything is, in fact, going down the drain. she might have as well chose to spit in my face with her perfect mouth. i imagine it would feel less degrading than the cold stare and apathetic words. i probably would've thanked her. that's fucked up, isn't it? i shouldn't even be thinking about her right now. i'll never see her again.
disclaimer: description of an abusive relationship (not the one between the main characters), other sensitive topics such as grief.