Adulting

When you left, I made myself a quesadilla.

I have three new scars

On the backs of my hands

From when I burnt myself while trying.

Turns out, it takes a lot of skill to flip a quesadilla.

That is something I clearly don't possess.

In some circles, those burns,

Would brand me 'childish' and 'careless'.

In others, I've finally earned my battle scars.

And battle scars are, of course, the hallmark of adulthood.

So maybe this is adulting: letting yourself get hurt

Just for the bragging rights.

When you left, I threw myself into work.

Filled my mind with anything that would

Keep me from filling it with the lack of you.

There's always so much to do now.

It stops me from asking the questions I know

I will never get the answers to.

Now I'm tired all the time. But there's work to do.

I push it away, but I can't bear to be alone

With only my thoughts for company.

Push, pull, push, pull.

So maybe this is adulting: committing to a million things

But never being able to focus on any of them.

When you left, there was an ache, and a fire,

And a desperation, and and an anger

All at once.

All that, but never acceptance.

Because how can I, without reason,

Accept that what was mine just isn't anymore?

It's said that when you love deeply, you hurt deeply. 

In some circles, that's unnecessary.

In others, it's always worth it.

I'm hurt. Really hurt. But here I am, loving you anyway.

So maybe this is adulting: chasing every single high

Even though the fall is always brutal.

When you left, I told myself I deserve better.

I tried to unlearn what I thought I knew.

But I'm stubborn, and I'm wilful.

Try as I might, something never leaves:

I know I deserve better,

But I only want it from you.

I will stand on this hill

Until I am pushed off.

In some circles, that makes me 'brave' and 'strong',

In others, it makes me the weakest of all.

So maybe this is adulting:

Chasing after what I want, but knowing I will never get it.

When you left, I let you go.

Although I knew I wanted to hold on,

Your heart just wasn't in it anymore.

That night, I held my raggedy bear, the one you loved so dearly,

And cried- because I couldn't tell him

That you'll never come round again.

Even though I'm still a child,

I'm grown. I loved deeply, and was loved in return,

Even if only for a while.

So maybe this is adulting: letting yourself get hurt,

Recognising that it's always worth it,

But knowing when it's time to go.

Once upon a time, you said you liked my childlike wonder./

When you left, you took it with you./

They say you only become an adult when/

You hurt so much that you can't feel anything at all./

I think I know what they meant now. I think you took me there./

Well, I guess I am finally adulting./