someone like you

I hear Adele sing so longingly to her ex and realise that I have nothing but disdain for mine. I wasted so much time, sleepwalking through a relationship and it was only when I finally awoke, opened my eyes and encountered the Manhattan skyline did I understand just how long I had been snoozing on my own life. I once created a piece of theatre with a group of wonderful ladies. My contribution was:

“New York pulled me into the woman I am today”

This isn’t about to be another blog post on how much I love and miss NYC (although I do, greatly) it’s more of a reflection upon hearing someone talk with so much nostalgia about someone that got away.


I wasn’t me with you.
I know that seems ridiculous to say,
but it’s so true.

You were under my thumb,
but it’s I who was pressed,
moulded

restricted into thinking that I
could not exist in my entirety
without your fingerprints
marking every inch of me.

I can’t finish it because I’m not quite sure what I want to say. I just feel release tonight in a way that is satisfying. I’m not bitter or resentful. Merely grateful that things have transpired this way. It may not be perfect, it’s definitely twisted, but it feels right.

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