Imprint
3 Sep
If I told you that you never left an imprint on my life, I would be lying.
For years I never had the courage to put you in front of a mirror. Instead, I piled the mirror with pretty scarves and in its reflection I saw you the way I wanted to see you. A beautiful, true person who could do no intentional wrong or inflict no intentional harm. As the dust settles around the explosion of ‘the end of us’, as the scarves slip off the mirror one by one, as the lies I tell myself grow old I have the clarity to see you for who you were.
You only ever saw the person I could be, if only I tried that little bit harder. You only ever saw the person I wasn’t. I am not sure you ever saw the person I was. In my vulnerability I believed you and I began to see myself, exclusively, through your eyes. I took those criticisms and I swallowed them whole without pausing for a second to consider what I was putting in my mouth. I ate and ate and ate everything you offered. Sometimes, I put up a fight and questioned the ”me” that you wanted me to be; but I was not strong enough to reject this unreachable ideal.
It was not always that bleak. Far from that, you complimented me but more often it was because I made you; my pregnant pauses forcing you to say something. I twisted conversations in order for you to say the things I wanted to hear. Eventually, I grew tired of a person who could not understand nor accept the piece of art in front of him. Instead of leaving, I turned into a blank piece of canvas; I had no dreams for myself, only for you. I did not know what I liked or disliked. I was yours and I let you paint a masterpiece of your idealized version of me.
I should have been your muse instead I became your ”project”.
A thing to fix, to make over, to create. But, you never finished the job you started. You left me, a mere sketch of what I could be. Four years now, I have attempted to erase the scratches of outlines you left, I have tried to sketch new ones, to add colour and texture and movement to your abandoned product.
And when I stand in front of the mirror now–not at all a perfect Mona Lisa–at least I see a version of myself that is all mine.
“I twisted conversations in order for you to say the things I wanted to hear.” A wonderful realization, that also relates to my past relationship. Thanks for sharing that.
This was truly exceptional, Hope. I had one of these when I was eighteen. And, because he was my first, the imprint stuck around for over five years.
It’s a brave thing to get yourself out from under something like that.
Hope, this was full of so much self awareness and insight, it’s inspiring. YOU are inspiring.
“I should have been your muse instead I became your ‘project’.”
I am having that tattooed RIGHT NOW.
Beautifully written.
Wehn you have power over your own soul no-one can take your self away. Imprinting (reading stephanie meyer or co-incidence?) happens because we want to lose ourselves in someone else, especially at hte beginning of something. the trick is finding your way back out again
L x
and good grief i can’t type today…very sorry, what a terrible first impression that was
Wow that was/is amazing. I’ve never gone through anything like that and yet I felt the emotions. Amazing writing.
Wow, I feel for you. There aren’t enough people who truly see the great potential of those who are around us. At the least this is inspiration for me to make others see the best in themselves.
Hope, this was absolutely beautiful. This is inspiration to myself, to be what I am, and love what I am, and be happy with myself, and not let other people change that.
Thank you.