“Hi, I am Lara and I am an addict of creating false scenarios in my head” I say while staring at myself in the mirror, full of tears might I add. It’s been five months since Mo and I started dating and I was doing so well! I didn’t create false scenarios of him still being in love with his ex and comparing us every time he saw me naked, I didn’t do it, I swear! In my last relationship I broke at two months, the scenarios and insecurities flooded my brain, I thought that my partner in the time was a waaaay better match with his ex, they were meant to be and I was just an obstacle. The relationship before that, I was good for about four months until I started waking up in the middle of the night to scroll through deleted photos on his iPad, or went through his drawers to find old birthday, valentine, anniversary cards from his ex to prove their undying love that was way realer and purer than whatever we have here.

And now Mo. After month four (and two weeks) I thought I am in the clear, but NO. They came, the thoughts came, but let me explain my rational, because it does exist and it does make sense! Mo is very creative, so am I, Mo loves music, so do I, and Mo wants to work in music, so did I at some point, but I gave up on that dream. His last two exes were singers, and me? Well I wouldn’t want to be heard even by my two year old nephew. They are creative in the way he loves and he strives to be and I am a mere mortal with no musical talents. Obviously Mo is better suited with his exes, do you see what I see? Obviously he dreams of being with them and to be surrounded by their creative aura and their beautiful voices, even if he tells me that he loves me and wants to be with me. He just doesn’t know or doesn’t want to admit whats good for him. I do know. I know who is a better match for him, I know what he’d truly desires.

I am the alternative to happiness and a perfect match…apparently to anyone who I’ve ever been with. I look away from myself, face the mirror with my back and collapse into a ball of sadness and self-pity. Maybe one day I’ll be the one.