Imperfect Me

...She lay in bed, with her head at the foot of the bed
And her feet resting on the pillows at the head of bed.
She lay upside down.
Just like the thoughts in her head.
Laptop lay open on the bed,
Playing a mixture of soft tunes from Yahoo's Quiet Storm station.
Her thoughts? Restless. Unsettled. Questioning.
Not even the erotic description of the three-way escapade between Lola, Mrs. Jones and Gideon in E.J.D's Walking with Enemies could bring her to the present.

"...am getting sick and tired of all this." Those were his words
And she had them on repeat in her thoughts.
Patient and understanding- that's him.
Sick and tired- hardly ever.
So how did he get to this point?
She had done it again.
She had shutdown.
In his own words, "gone cold" when he needed answers.

She never wants to sound like a nag
So instead of communicating and saying what's on her mind
She plays the nothing is wrong card
But has a bad poker face/attitude
Bcos he knows something's not right
But he's not getting answers; Instead,
Mono-syllabic replies. Avoidance. Emotional disconnect.
A 180 change in personality from his Babie.

"...you can pour out ur heart on ur blog,
but not to the one you love." So he said.
I am she.
I am imperfect. I have flaws. Said it from the get go.
And me saying nothing when its something is one of them
I know it's frustrating to deal with
But am working on it, really I am!

I can't achieve perfection...I don't even want to
But...I'm a work in progress.
Everyday, I work on being a better me
How long it'll take? I know not.
How often I'll slip? One...two...and counting
When I'll give up? Never.
So the question is do you have enough patience
Or did that well run dry already?
I hope not.


Talk to you guys soon
xoxo,
Miss Enigma!