Back it Up

Beep, beep, mother fucker(s).

That all went way too fast. Way too fast. Zoom.

I feel like I (we) rushed past all the really, really good stuff and now I'm left lying in the dust, wondering where it all went and how it was so quick and whirlwind and did I miss it. I want it back. I want to back-up and move forward. Who knows if that's actually possible, but I find myself in a position alone. Missing, wanting. Cold.

Alone when I don't want to be alone anymore, when I was perfectly happy by myself before. So it feels like a crossroads. On the one hand this perfect thing that sits before me, (the other) perhaps riddled with undisclosed imperfections and --- distance, but not the normal distance in miles. Distance in time and individual preferences for the speed of life. Confused.

I liked it when I didn't have to think. When there was not want - no need for another. The absence of touch was replaced with my own plans. I'm not sure I know how to adjust. And I feel as though it is very one thing or another and I just don't know where to go from here or how to balance myself again with this new entity. And if I can't figure that out, I have to go back to what I know - and replace it all with my own plans.

I need to feel like I exist. Exuberant. Special. Important. Like when I walk into a bar or restaurant or generic public place and all those heads turn. That happens. And I'm not going to lie, I like it. I need to feel like that, but more. And without the time to sit and think that when a new week starts I'm simply forgotten. Because then it feels like walking into a bar, heads turn and look at the person behind me. And at a certain point, it's not just up to me anymore. Unless I replace it all with my own plans. I can do that; I've been happy like that.

I guess I'll try to back it up. It's against my nature. But as much as I need affirmation, reassurance and admiration, I need balance. In the 5/40 scheme of things, I have nothing. And that's not okay. Reverse.