Devil’s Staircase

It has been a month. I locked the site and stopped writing. But I suppose I’m back now. Because every once in a while, the cycle comes back around, and I remember what it’s like to have something to say. To have things to need to put down on paper. To have phrases float around in my head that I want to remember and build into something bigger. I don’t know exactly where I’ve been. But I’ve been thinking. And living. And changing. I’ve cut back on some vices, and oddly enough I’ve gained a couple different ones. So net neutral. But I know that in a while, those will cycle through too, and the person I am in another month won’t be the one writing this.

Phase 1: Euphoria

You have met a boy. You have a boy. And he is lovely and sweet and oh so smart. He does everything that no boy has ever done for you before. He has a smile that makes you forget about the war going on, the fucked up laws, the times you’ve hated yourself in the mirror. He has everything that you do not, the confidence, the passion, the ambition, the love for life, but he has it in a way that makes you realize, maybe you have it too. You do. And when you wake up to a kiss on the cheek and watch as the sun fills in his eyes, you’re sure that this must be a dream. You don’t want leave his arms, but you do anyway because you want to be the person you hope he thinks you are. You run your fingers over the dip in his chest and get up to do the work you can’t focus on. And when he leaves and promises two weeks, you turn the words over in your mind until they lose all meaning.

Phase 2: Hope

The reality you live in is dull. The apartment is too small. The room is too quiet. The work is too boring. You hope that he texts. You hope to see him again. You think about him constantly. You hope that he does the same. You start planning out what life might look like now that he could be in it. For the first time in a long time, you count on being happy. Not because of you. Happy was never a thing you ever thought you could achieve. But you redefine it, against your better sense, against your conscious will, you open up the word and fit him inside of it. And when he sends you a “good morning”, it is the best damn morning. It puts all the other mornings to shame.

Phase 3: Doubt

Time is your worst enemy. You turn into a girl who waits. Everything up until the next time you see him becomes filler. And the pain of a few silent days drives you insane. You remember how you’d scoff at the stupidity of Orpheus to turn around, to ruin everything. And you realize that you would do the same. You wonder if things have changed. You wonder if he’s even real. You begin to spiral and wonder if you are deserving of someone like him, if you are worthy. Your brain manages to convince you that you are not. You talk to your friends because how can you not, and they tell you everything that you do not want to hear. That he’s probably talking to other girls. That he might just want someone in the city. That you don’t actually know anything about him. That he might not like you in that way. That if he wanted to, he would. He doesn’t. You cry.

Phase 4: Composure

You manage to get some sleep. And when you wake, you realize that you have been through this before. Other priorities begin to pop up. Time begins to pass without you even noticing. The last time he came to the city, he also disappeared for a bit. But he still came, and nothing had changed. You remind yourself that your feelings are not so capricious. His are not either, probably. You like that he loves his work. You like that he has so many things to do. And you remember that you like not having to text all the time. You check in once in a while. And he does too. You don’t have full conversations, and you wonder if maybe you don’t need to.

Phase 5: Despair

You realize that you need to. Because two weeks came and went and he is still not here. And he still has no plans to be here. You don’t remember what his voice sounds like, how his hands feel. Now you know that something has changed. Because if he wanted to he would. He leaves you on read. He doesn’t send the hearts or the sunshine. You read into everything. Days are longer. You tell yourself that you’ll text him in two days. You can’t wait that long. You’ve lost another one. You pray for one thing and one thing only. You know it won’t work.

Phase 6: Anger

This bitch. This boy decided to date in a city in which he does not reside. This boy decided to date when he is busy and unavailable. The flaws seep through in all the colors you were blind to two weeks ago. He does all the talking and doesn’t ask anything. He doesn’t know anything about you. He does not care. Or does not know how to. He is undeserving of the time you spend thinking about him. He is not everything. He is not even close. You delete the messages. The screenshots. The pictures. You re-download Hinge, even though you never end up setting it up. You tell yourself that you have better things to do. You do.

Phase 7: Serenity

He begins to fade from your mind. You keep world building without him. You stop making room for him in your future. He is just a boy. You are everything. The nausea is gone. Reality is just so. You accept the things you cannot change. You change the things you can. You know the difference.

(Phase 1: Euphoria

He tells you he’s figuring out dates for next week. You have a boy. And he is lovely and sweet and oh so smart.)