The pursuit of love

In my dream, I gave up on love
and I dated a man I can barely stand to
take up the place of my solitude to
sleep
on the right side of the bed
a warm body to hold on to.

In my dream, I avoided his lips until he threatened to leave and I
allowed him
to touch my body
while I seldom caressed his
eyes closed
thinking of strawberry fields.

In my dream, I faked contempt when he held my hand and
looked away when he stared into my eyes
disguising my disgust with shyness.

When I finally woke up
I thanked my so called
“inflexibility”
my so called
“tightness.”
I thanked myself for being a so called
“stuck-up bitch” a
“demanding and challenging woman” a
“self-centered and conceited girl.”
I thanked my so called
“worse traits”
for keeping me from settling down with filth
just because it is
available.
I thanked my so called
“worse self”
for encouraging me to see the whole picture
instead of keeping my eyes fixed
on the land beneath me.

I woke up and realized why the pursuit of love
mattered so much to me
and it’s as simple as

giving up on love
means giving up on me

and that’s the one thing I can’t afford to lose.

Poema de: Alana Chávez/ Instagram: @alachave

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