A penniless body without a soul
My heart, my soul, have never been this objective before. Being in a relationship with someone for the first and last time, I was ready to give my entire being to another person, longing to be consumed. Not only my tears and sorrows, but the whole essence of my personality.
She was like a mirror. She repeated what I started, went where I went, looked at me when I looked… and yet, whenever I walked away, the reflection in the mirror only came closer.
Every pleasant and gentle touch from her felt like rose stems wrapping around me from head to toe. I wanted to run away, break free, tear them to pieces. But every time I tried to escape, their thorns pierced my flesh. I could have waited, tried to be slower and more careful. But then I looked up and saw soft pink buds, their color given to them by my blood. Yet this only made them more beautiful. Their petals, whose roots resembled pale skin reddening from an awkward touch, gently unfolded, blocking my view of the world around me. My body could no longer move. And I could only breathe in their scent.
There are no victims or predators in codependent relationships. Rather, you switch these roles like gloves, dependent on the other person as if they were air, trying to figure out how to keep them close for the feeling of acceptance and love.
Now, the thought that self-love should come before relationships with others seems obvious. But back then, I felt like both a sadist and a masochist at the same time. As if I could close my eyes to panic attacks for the sake of endless conversations until morning. As if I could endure and forgive after yet another breakup for the sake of that warm feeling deep in my stomach and the pain in my cheeks from smiling.
And yet… if she is a mirror, then everything I see in it only reflects myself.