Every Journey Has a Purpose

You’ll find yourself in your deepest moments of despair,

You’ll find yourself in the quiet moments alone,

You’ll find yourself at university and

You’ll find yourself in me.

Travelling does tests your boundaries,

Tests your insecurities,

Challenges your sense of self,

Tests your adaptability to survive in the unknown.

I’m not sure in travelling I am finding myself,

I believe that because I have already touched the deepest corners of my soul,

Travelling is simply a life goal,

Not a journey of self-definition for me, simply a journey to be free.

I know that in leaving my home, my country,

I am putting distance between you and me,

But how else could I possibly heal,

From the mental torment and constant fear.

I’ve found myself in the deepest of depressions,

In the moments of pure ecstasy,

In the tides and currents of the sea,

I know the universe and it knows me.

I’ve tested my inner strength,

Really stretched my capacity,

Lived through horrors that no one should ever see,

Gotten to a point where I really like me.

So what is this journey all about?

If not to somehow find myself,

Perhaps finding isn’t the goal of it all,

Maybe getting lost is the purpose of travelling alone.

What Is It About Her?

Is it her suspicious evaluation?

Her undercut compliments,

Or her sense of entitlement,

To the man I am with.

Is it the looks of envy?

When he smiles and dances with me,

When he kisses and cuddles me,

When he flatters and courts me.

Is it the judgement?

Does she even know the half of it?

Does he confide in her and what half-truths has he told,

Is it his fault she looks at me with caution and scold?

Has he been with her?

Would he ever tell me the truth?

What is it about her?

Maybe it’s not about her but really about me?

Is it just this woman I am threatened by?

Or is it an overall insecurity?

Caused by knowing the man I love continuously lies to me,

Caused by knowing I’m disposable and worth very little.

What is it about these women?

Both young and old,

Those that threaten me and my love to the core,

Those that make my skin crawl.

It’s in the way they look at me,

It’s in the way they physically threaten me,

Hands all over my lover’s body,

Is it the power they have against me, knowing I’m only going where they have already been?

Is it mistrust in him, knowing he could be easily manipulated?

Knowing he is manipulative and equally deceitful,

Knowing that he has lied to me before,

Knowing that he’s discarded me more and more.

Is it my own insecurity, a feeling like I’m not worthy?

I don’t think so, because I honestly truthfully know

He will never find love like this again,

I have a gift, a power you see,

An all-encompassing, enlightening energy.

Perhaps that’s just it,

I’m here to teach,

Not to enjoy the fruits of long term intimacy,

Maybe doomed to be a goddess among the mess,

Never belonging to one but drifting and teaching as I go along?

What Is It About Betrayal?

How does one define it?

How does one give parameter to something so personal, something so infinite?

Can I hold him liable for his denial of honesty with me?

We all lie, don't we?

What is it about his past that he is so ashamed of?

What else is he not telling me?

Does he think I'll love him less if I know all about his history?

Is this why I lie to him and why he lies to me?

Why does not this guy want to share his life, his past and his present with me?

Can understanding my own reasoning and self-doubt help me figure him out?

I've lied, predominantly for the fear of "devaluing" my "reputation";

For fear of hurting someone unnecessarily;

For fear of losing someone because they might think differently about me.

So truthfully, honestly, maybe, I believe,

That sometimes lying is a need?

Am I really saying this? Is this really what I think?

The constant debate begins ...

How do I ever feel sure again, sure that he will always be completely honest with me?

Will I ever be completely honest with him in return?

Did I not decide that there were parts of me that were ok, were acceptable, ethically moral to hide?

Surely then I can not deny him the same standard of "secrecy" maybe there are some things I do not need to know about him and that he does not need to know about me.

The simpler lies when there's really nothing to hide,

Things I can not justify him lying about, things I can not imagine myself hiding,

These are the lies I'm truly worried about.

Besides the mammoth obstacle of truth and betrayal, there is another niggling itch,

How do I ever feel secure in this relationship knowing he could discard me in an instant?

Everything I've read and everything I know points to a shallow narcissistic soul:

Three patterns ring out loud: Idealise, devalue and discard,

His charm keeps me coming back for more, this dichotomy of pleasure and immense pain,

I can no longer keep riding this rollercoaster time and time again.

There Has to come a point when I realise and walk away,

I fear being caught in this negative bliss, finally so deep I'll drown in it.

He's loured me in and thrown me away,

This constant cycle, the confusion of it all,

I'll never understand this rapid rise and fall.

My love for him was always so painfully sure,

Now tainted by mistrust and insecurity,

Constant anticipation of his next painful mess.

His next lie or his possible infidelity,

The next time he spontaneously decides to discard me,

Next time I'll walk away for sure,

I said that last time and the time before.

Between the lies, the betrayal and the immense sense of insecurity there is an even crazier part of me, the part that's still hanging on, still staying true, still trying to make things work with you.