Tomorrow

He is looking at models on his phone. He is laying beside me and looking. He looks at them like a computer. He looks at everything -calculated and precise. He gives little room for errror. He looks and looks and then he finds the one. The perfect match.

She is a model, 23 yrs old. She has sun-kissed brown skin like me. She has his tired eyes, my nose,  his forehead and my almond shape face. She is tall and thin like him.

He turns to me, smiles and says this is her.

Who is she?

A model.

I hope you are not asking to look like her because it’s not happening. Plus I can’t grow any taller.

Lol, no fattylicious….she is what are kid would look like..

How long have you been thinking of this?

A while now. It’s a fixation.

In so many ways my workaholic boyfriend says the things I need to hear. He knows all. He is a computer of a man. Luckily, he has humour or we would have faded.

Yet, he is a workaholic. He lives for his first born-his company. I think of what kind of life we have and it’s really warm. However, there are many faint days because his work takes him away so much.

I wonder if I would take our story for granted or he me. I wonder if we can have a family. I wonder what he will think of my little lost family. I have no “dowry” of sorts.  I am a screwup.

He is flawed too, however in an over perfectionist A -type manner. He comes from comfort and unumeral resources. He has it good and he works to keep it so.
I am thinking of my financial woes, student loans and my credit card debt. My ADD way of changing occupation as my mood changes.
My family is broken on a personal level, yet they are mine. I love them. Could he?
Would his mother love me? After all, he’s her baby. Her only family, more or less.

I ask him, how would we survive?

Easy …don’t ever let go.
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That Feeling

It’s weird. That moment you realize your back in the section of life you leave behind after being away. I am back and now I don’t belong. Everytime a change happens, I change. Losing my routine, my mind thinks different, I feel different.
I returned changed, hopefully positive and vibrant…changed. This displacement feeling is why I try different. At times , I think I am searching for something and it may be with me already yet I can’t see it. Or maybe wanderlust has clouded my judgement; whatever it is I am different and seeking something…. always seeking.