I fix things. I guess I'm a small scale personal life Scandal cast member. My advice stops car wreaks days before they happen.
My family calls me the peacemaker, to absorb all jumbled emotions and spit out serenity. And I love fixing things. Maybe that's where my masculine energy comes from because you know women can't logically fix things.
I used to attract unsolved puzzle pieces of men trying to fulfill my role. It took me flights and sleepless nights and fading scars to realize that this isn't working.
So I decided to try to fix myself.
Usually my magic is null and void when it comes to the contracts of my life. Usually I forget that my self producing loopholes are there, loopholes that leave spaces for people to walk out of my life.
I explored the dusty parts of myself and began to clean. Once I could see the floor of my soul I realized that my role is not synonymous with my purpose.
I can be a fixer without breaking myself and I can be dynamic without being tragic.
You were eager like I used to be. 16 was the time of overindulging and man did I! I was addicted to having someone on my arm.
You were the first person I wanted to make a forever with. You gave me hope that we could grow into our roles as soulmates. I actually called you my soulmate, well not to your face. I had just met you in computer class and we couldn't legally go on a field trip without permission let alone try to forge a union.
Give me commands. Clear guidelines. An itemized list of your needs.
You were exactly what I asked for. A carbon copy straight out of my mind. I should have been more careful.
When I tell you I love you, it doesn't mean we go together now. It doesn't mean I want your children. It doesn't mean I need to meet your family. I love you means I love who you are as a person. I have surpassed like and landed on love.
If you could, please disregard the previous letter left on your pillow. That has too much hubris dripping. Too much anger. Too many other emotions that negatively influenced the creation of that notice.
This is your eviction notice. Your placeholder, an unattainable musician, is helping me move your memories. Not sure where they'll go but at this point, I don't want to know.
I'm sick of the men in their feelings and not knowing how harmful and/or annoying they are with them.
You could be a better man, slay dragons, discover the greatest side of yourself. I could put you on the path of soul repair. I'm the kind of woman who makes real power players. I could be your Claire, Mr. Underwood.