the broken. the fixer.

There exists a class of person born to fix things, and as they grow into themselves they realize that they cannot let something broken stay broken. They are the kind of people that find a bird with a broken wing, fallen from its mother's nest, they take it home and nurture it, fixing what was once broken only to set it free even after having established a strong bond. 

And when it comes to love, it just so happens the most broken people find their way into the lives of these repairers. And they do all they know, they give it their all and fix them, but in doing so they happen to fall deeply and harshly for the once broken, not realizing that they - the broken, are just passing through. They sought to be fixed, to have their hearts mended by someone with a delicate hand, and once repaired, they’re set free, to fly into the arms of another that wouldn't look twice if they had been broken.

On some level they know that all that was required of them was to fix the broken, they know they shouldn't have fallen, but somehow they did. And now she’s gone, and he himself becomes broken. In time his wounds mend themselves and he returns to repairing the broken souls that wander into his life. Setting them free as soon as his healing hands are done, he watches them fly away with distaste, hoping that one day he might see her - the first one he ever did mend - flying back towards him.

That day never comes, and he repairs all he can, setting them free as soon as he is done, one day, however, a broken soul wanders into his workshop, and he spends months working to fix her, expecting her to be gone the minute he is done. What he doesn't anticipate however is her noting the neglected wounds within his own heart, and when the day comes to set her free, she doesn't fly away, instead she stays and gets to work trying to fix him, hoping that just maybe he won’t fly away in pursuit of the soul he once fixed oh so long ago.

the reflection

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself. Instead I see a ghost of me, or rather who I want to be. Standing behind me, looking over my shoulder, looking on in disgust. Sometimes this being screams discouraging messages. And sometimes he appears with a discouraging look upon his face, as if to judge me for every decision I’m about to make. Sometimes I feel like I've let myself down. More often than I’d like perhaps. But I guess sometimes when I look in the mirror I don’t see what others see in me. Instead I see what I have failed in doing. Failed in becoming. And what I've let myself become.

Sooner or later I'll start to believe this person, who isn't quite me, but on some level someone I’d like to be, yet somehow I also dislike, because he’s cold and callous, he is without heart and emotion. He is strong and fearless. Without attachments that the physical embodiment of me is so tied to. He’s everything I’m not. So I start to feel what he thinks I am. Weak, ugly, easily manipulated, stupid. Only now do I realize that maybe I’m starting to let this manifestation of what he tells me I am become true.

mess

Everyone told me how beautiful you were. But I failed to grasp what a mess you were and still are. I mean I knew your life was complicated, nothing about you was ever simple and nothing about us was ever easy. But I guess that’s what I loved about you, you made me feel alive, and everything we had and everything we were I had to work hard for, to prove to you that I was worthy of you. Even though I probably never was. You were a beautiful mess and I wanted more than anything to fix you, to make you whole again. I guess I never did grasp that in doing so, in attempting to anyway, you had the capacity to make a mess out of me.

I’m not blaming you for everything that went down and it isn’t your fault, because that’s just life, you feed off it and shit happens. But I don’t think you’ll ever truly lay hold of what it did to me and how it will continue to define me. When I look at him I am reminded that he is everything I’m not, how much better you two look together than we did. I guess I now constantly live in fear that no matter how hard and how much I can love someone, there will always be someone better waiting to snatch it away from me. Because of us, because of you, I am unable to feel worthy, worthy of loving anyone, worthy of being loved. Because I’ll always feel like they’re holding back, waiting in the clutches of hope that there’s someone better just around the corner. I’ve never felt like I deserved much in life, I always believed that things are earned, never deserved, but it’s completely another thing to feel like you deserve nothing and your efforts to earn something couldn’t earn you a single grain of sand because you are that unworthy of anything.

You were a beautiful mess and all I wanted to do was love you, even though everyone told me I shouldn’t. You were a beautiful mess that I wanted to fix and instead, blinded by your beauty I let you make a mess out of me, unlike you, I am not befitting of any beauty. A mess is all I am now, with no one to fix me.