You Get To Choose
She was the kind of woman who didn't demand much attention, she simply took up her allotted amount of space and oxygen in the world. She didn't mind being walked over or around. There were few things she put up a fight for and I always longed to be one of those few things. Even years later I cannot help but let that longing consume me in times that I am rejected by someone else. Why was she so magnetizing to me? Was it the short stature and gentle movements? Or the simple advice that would travel from her feminine lips to my terrified brain? Was it the way she didn't demand much attention.... The way she just let things be and let the hurt flow into and out of her. While I fought so hard to push any amount of hurt away, until its pushed to the farthest reaches of my psyche. Where it is piled upon every other piece of hurt I've encountered, with the rotting blobs of the word "no." and "You're not the one for me." Next to the memories of hands touching me in ways I never asked for, all while that one phrase she always said still echo's in my head "You get to choose." She still lives in the dark reaches of my mind because I simple cannot let go of that phrase and the longing to be fought for by someone so gentle.