Baby Michelle was Melodramatic

First off, apologies for the prior draft being sent out. It was a hectic as shit day and I didn’t get the chance to update the schedule on this.

BUT! It’s Poetry Tuesday! We are going to go back through all my old notebooks and look at the god-awful poetry I wrote when I was an angsty teen and then you will get present day Michelle’s re-interpretation/headdesk horror-filled embarrassment.

Better off without me

I cradle you close to me while you sleep
In the morning I’ll be gone
There is no way I can stay
You deserve so much more

You’re better off without me
Danger follows me at every turn
I can’t allow you to get hurt
If you were, never would I forgive myself

I’m scum; this is the truth I tell you
I know how bad I am for you
But you don’t listen
You shake your head and tears fill your eyes

You’re better off without me
Even though it kills me to stay away
I know that’s what’s best for you
I’ll stay away for as long as I can

I waited for you on your step
But I left before you came home
I didn’t want to face you so I left a note
Foolishly telling you I loved you

You’re better off without me
Though I know you are the only one for me
It’s Hell to not be with you,
If it was possible I would never leave you

I dream of you every night
The sight of you keeps me alive
When I wake something inside me aches
I am wishing for you in my arms

You’re better off without me
Every time I face death I realize this
If I were to die it would kill you
And in the afterlife, I am bound on a different course

I know your friends try to sway you
If only you would listen to them
There is no happiness with me
Even though I love you so much

You’re better off without me
No worries of whether I’ll die
Not having to wonder when I’ll be back
But my heart sings to know you still stay

I watch you wait for me
I hear your vows to never leave
I will break free of what holds me
So that I can come to you with no fear

So, as I mentioned last week, this is the companion piece to “Till the End of Time.” It’s really funny to me that I wrote this piece because now I absolutely cannot stand the bullshit don’t-tell-the-love-interest-because-we-don’t-want-to-hurt-them plot line. My good friend, Green Beauty Blogger, can attest to the fact that I was FOAMING AT THE MOUTH over the first season of The Flash on Netflix. The whole lack of communication theme that seems imperative for every single MCU and DC comic and spin-off to work makes my head want to explode. It’s the same reason why I can’t stand to re-watch any of Arrow even though I really enjoyed it the first time around. Communication is so key and the complete lack of it and deliberate withholding of information for other people’s (especially female love interest’s) “safety” just makes me want to go on an endless rampage.

My coworker and I were talking about how SO MANY movies would not even need to exist if the characters FUCKING TALKED TO EACH OTHER – Batman vs Superman, Age of Ultron, Civil War, etc. I mean, Harlequins would not exist if characters had good communication. My favorite Harlequin plot was always completely innocent martyr female charactermajor miscommunicationAsshole Main Guy  = barely 200 pages of the most intense drama and feel porn  you will ever have. Bonus if the martyr female lead is secretly pregnant or has a secret baby by the Asshole Main Guy. EXTRA BONUS if the martyr female lead lost the baby in a miscarriage and then tearfully and bravely tells the Asshole Main Guy years later who is then DESPERATELY SORRY. Yup. BABY MICHELLE WAS A MELODRAMATIC LITTLE SHIT.

Harlequins without good communication:

Asshole male lead: OUT YOU WHORE!!!!
Martyr female lead: *runs away weeping after a few gurgled protestations*

Harlequins with good communication:

Male lead: Um….you can’t be pregnant with my kid, I’m sterile.
Female lead: It’s your kid, I didn’t cheat. Which doctor told you that you were sterile?
Male lead: Well, the doctor didn’t tell me, my ex did. She got the results for me because I was too scared to look at them for fear of emasculating emotions.
Female lead: How about we ask the doctor for the results again before you call me a whore and toss me out on my ear?
Male lead: Fair, but if I’m sterile I AM going to call you a whore and throw you out.
Female lead: If you are sterile then I am going to go to the Catholic Church and let them know that the New Jesus is on the way

(Time Lapse)

Female lead: Now that is the reaction I was looking for, time to bang?
Male lead: All the banging

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

Communication is KEY KEY KEY. I cannot stress this enough. Baby Michelle DID NOT GET THAT MEMO. I bottled everything up inside and thought it was all noble and shit. No it is not noble, it is stupid. When you are hurt, say something. When you are ecstatically happy, say something. When you are overwhelmed, say something. When you just need a hug, SAY SOMETHING. Thankfully, The Historian picked up on my inability to communicate healthily my freshman year of undergrad and she shuffled me off to therapy. It took four different therapists and almost ten years, but when something is bothering me I talk about it.

I am exceedingly thankful that my communication skills are better and that I can talk to my family, my friends, and my boyfriend about things that bother me in a calm, adult way so that they can respond in a calm and adult way. Because of this I do not have to worry about living a Harlequin or MCU movie.

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