I’ve had a few conversations the past week none of which have gone the way I intended. My legs are sore but still functional. There are a lot of birds here, and they often sing. Just a week ago I can recall being mad at hearing the birds. Imagine that, mad at nature existing.

I wasn’t angry at the birds though, it was anger at myself, my situation, my moment. In hindsight, I should not have even been mad at that but I was.

I told August 4 that I don’t think we can come back from what happened. The series of text message exchanges doesn’t confirm that but doesn’t rule it out either. If there is a path back to talking again, I cannot ever give them the space they had previously. There are friends who drive you to the bus station when they have the bubble guts and friends who throw temper tantrums because people like you. Well one is a friend anyway.

I saw all of these things, not before I took up residence, but still I saw them. I told myself that even with those flaws, the friendship could be salvaged. It’s kind of how I view friendship. I take you as you are, and I don’t try to change you. I accept that there are going to be differences, and build that into who we are. My friendship is not perfect, but it is loyal. To get me to the point where I have to vacate it takes more than most people are willing to endure. I’ve done it though, likely in part because I’ve feared being alone and thought I didn’t deserve more.

Neither is true. I don’t have to be alone. I absolutely deserve more. It’s an easy thing to take advantage of my loyalty. It’s easier to understand my sense of commitment and play on it. One doesn’t have to even be malicious about it, as you get to know me it is apparent. I make the choice though if I am going to allow that to be abused or if I am going to draw boundaries and hold them.

It’s not that I haven’t lost, I have. What I am not willing to do this time though is allow that loss to impair me. It’s not that I don’t understand the gift given, its that it was never a gift it was always an exchange and the price of that exchange became more than I could pay. It’s not that the love is gone, its that love does exist, and it is love of self that allows me to move forward. I won’t lose sleep but I will have concern. I can’t allow that concern to stop me though because I have to choose me.

Choosing me is not some act of selfishness which should be punished. It doesn’t make me a villain. It makes me aware that no one else will make me a priority even when they are extending a helping hand. It’s about sleeping at night knowing the biggest danger to my well being is being licked unmercifully by a dog who has to pee.

At some point in the upcoming days I am going to take stock and decide, what comes next. I cannot drift, I have to have a plan and purpose. I also have to remember those plans might go sideways and if so, not allow that to impair me.

I remember telling someone that I missed the girl who left here. She hung in there for a moment and slowly she was being worn away. She isn’t all the way back yet, and that’s on me. She’s here and waiting to be given a little more agency. She’s impatient though.

One thought has sat in the center of my mind though. This is the first time I can remember in some time I get to pick. These are my choices. Some will be magnificent some will be awful but they are mine. Yes they will be based on the circumstance of the moment but they are mine. I get to pick me.

Aphrodite Brown