Her Struggle To Be

When one day she’s calling you her heaven-sent angel from God and that she wouldn’t know what do without you.
But the next you read her notes that say, “I’m not overly excited to see him. I don’t really miss him when he’s not around.”

When one day she’s crying and begging, “Please don’t leave me. I need you to be here with me so badly.”
But the next she’s pushing you away like you are a stranger on the street who she was never supposed to meet.

When one day she makes you promise that, no matter what happens, you’ll always have each other’s backs.
But the next she has decided on her own that it would be easier to put some forever space between you both.

If this is too much to handle, walk away…you haven’t committed yourself…if you leave now, I will not blame you.
The bliss of one day is too often quickly replaced by the despair of the next, and it’s something I can’t control.
It torments me that I am unable to distinguish the happiness from the mania and the sadness from the depression.
I wake up fearing the day and, no matter how good or bad it ends up being, I go to sleep praying for the next one to be better.

Trying to harness the jubilation without limiting her joy can be a task in itself.  
Knowing these moments of happiness will be zapped; her feelings of anguish and hopelessness are imminent.
Untrained in this practice; a particular method might work well at one moment but fail miserably the next.

Trying to contain the euphoria of each moment because of the doubt of how long the moment will last.
Each of us knows that this delight will eventually replace itself with something different; something so very, very different.
Untrained in this practice; a certain technique might work well at one moment but fail miserably the next.

Her words often feel deliberately cruel; her actions can sometimes seem like they are designed to inflict intentional pain.
This affliction has such a hold on her that she is unable to see how her actions affect anyone other than herself.
While it is excusable to be discouraged, hurt, or sad, how is it fair to be upset with her if so much of this is not her fault?

When one day she’s so full of energy that she brings out the side of her that is amiable, engaging, and irresistibly fun. 
But the next is one where the only measure of success is of her moving from the bed to couch where she’ll remain for the day.

When one day she’s calling all of her friends, galvanized in making plans to catch up with each of them. 
But the next she’s hiding from the world after a series of negative thoughts send her spiraling into madness.  
 
When one day, she’s excitedly writing out a list of road trips to the many places she wants to visit with you.
But the next when you revisit the topic to continue its push, it’s as if her sense of adventure has completely disappeared.  

If this is too much to handle, walk away…you haven’t committed yourself…if you leave now, I will not blame you.
The bliss of one day is too often quickly replaced by the despair of the next, and it’s something I can’t control.
It torments me that I am unable to distinguish the happiness from the mania and the sadness from the depression.
I wake up fearing the day and, no matter how good or bad it ends up being, I go to sleep praying for the next one to be better.

The hope that brightens her life at one moment is too quickly extinguished the next; when it returns is anyone’s guess.
Her brain is consumed by unrelenting, disorganized thoughts that tarnish the clear perspective she so desperately craves.  
Untrained in this practice; a particular method might work well at one moment but fail miserably the next.

Trying to juggle the extremes when, at any moment, the wrong word or action could be a trigger that sets off her mind. 
Always attempting to differentiate between the pleasure and the mania, wondering what is permanent and what temporary.
Untrained in this practice; a certain technique might work well at one moment but fail miserably the next.

Those deep, dark eyes all too easily penetrate my soul, I could often get lost in them for days on end and love every minute.
Those same eyes though often look completely irrational and have the look of someone who hasn’t a single idea of who she is.
Is her joy authentic joy? Is her sadness genuine sadness? Or is it just the craze or gloom creeping in, getting nearer and nearer?

When one day you are planning a day filled with events that interest her, your single wish to see her beautiful smile.
But the next she’s chiding you for your selfishness and for your never taking into consideration her desires and concerns.

When one day she is playfully poking your side to wake up so that the two of you can begin your morning together.
But the next trying to get her out of bed is an all-day task that often ends without even a hint of success. 

When one she excitedly blurts out of nowhere that she can see herself having kids with you one day.
But the next she says it’s all too much and that she doesn’t want to be in this relationship anymore.

If this is too much to handle, walk away…you haven’t committed yourself…if you leave now, I will not blame you.
The bliss of one day is too often quickly replaced by the despair of the next, and it’s something I can’t control.
It torments me that I am unable to distinguish the happiness from the mania and the sadness from the depression.
I wake up fearing the day and, no matter how good or bad it ends up being, I go to sleep praying for the next one to be better.