" I burn, I pine, I perish.." -The Taming of the Shrew
I can't help but laugh at myself. Has it even been this long for me to make the leap to the next step? Patience has never been my strong suit.
I kiss you, oh so lightly- does it do to you what it does to me? Is it one sided?
I've never been left to wonder like this. I've never prolonged this stage. My mind wanders at the possibilities.
What happens when we do touch? What happens when we do break? Will we... or... what if we never do? So many questions.
My mind wants so much more- so does the rest of me. Intellectually stimulated in all the ways I'm used to physically- what are you doing so differently?
Wait- you're worth the wait. I can feel it. So am I. Go against the tide, don't rush.
Be different to feel different. Change the "game" to change the result.
Penny for your thoughts. What are you thinking? Feeling? No, don't tell me. I'll wait.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
when I didn't staunch the bleeding.
"The wound is the place where the light enters you." -Rumi
When you left, I didn't staunch the bleeding. I didn't try to hide, or save face, or cover it up. I cried myself to sleep, and woke up to fresh tears. I forgot to eat, and didn't turn to my usual escapes. I let it wash over me again and again- allowing for me to feel tormented and broken. A shell of a person, going through the motions because life didn't stop, even though I felt like it should have. I was knocked off my axis- neither afraid, nor caring enough whether I course corrected.
"Don't let her see it. Don't let her see how she broke you." Why? I allowed you to. I gave you the power to break me. I gave you permission. I trusted, ignored, bargained, and loved to get there. You took all of that, laid it down, and walked away.
I didn't want to wake up in the morning. Didn't want to believe it had really happened. You'd really left. Having it reaffirmed by the reactions of everyone around me- the shock. My trying to explain, trying to paint a picture where you weren't the villain, or I duped. People forming narratives around us, and me finally not wanting or caring to correct them.
My hope for us faded quickly. I think it's because of the bleed. I knew the hemorrhaging was vital- get you out. Let you go. Feel it all- I had to trust I wouldn't break completely. Trust I couldn't do it as I had before. I had never let anyone in so fully- of course excising you would be the most painful. Still- I cut you out.
Time is a funny thing- I thought it would take so much longer for me to let you go. For me to feel differently about you. Emotional cutting isn't always a productive process, but for me it was everything. It was the portal, the change, the clearance. I didn't give myself arbitrary dates- I stopped crying when there was nothing left to cry about. I stopped missing you when I realized I really didn't. I stopped hating you when I realized I was only hurting myself, and hating you was still awarding you a certain amount of feeling. You told me during the breaking you weren't mine anymore- as if I'd ever treated you like a possession. I stopped it all when I realized I was no longer yours.
I don't want to bleed like that again- in the corner of the bathroom with a towel over my face, or on the kitchen floor, or under the covers. I don't think we're allowed an infinite amount of times to drain ourselves the way that process does. I left a piece of me behind with you. The piece that thought I needed you, and needed to constantly prove I loved you, deserved you.
The rest of me turned towards light- towards happiness, towards wants. The pain in my chest is gone, and you with it. Months ago, I wasn't sure I would ever stop the bleed- now there's just a scar.
When you left, I didn't staunch the bleeding. I didn't try to hide, or save face, or cover it up. I cried myself to sleep, and woke up to fresh tears. I forgot to eat, and didn't turn to my usual escapes. I let it wash over me again and again- allowing for me to feel tormented and broken. A shell of a person, going through the motions because life didn't stop, even though I felt like it should have. I was knocked off my axis- neither afraid, nor caring enough whether I course corrected.
"Don't let her see it. Don't let her see how she broke you." Why? I allowed you to. I gave you the power to break me. I gave you permission. I trusted, ignored, bargained, and loved to get there. You took all of that, laid it down, and walked away.
I didn't want to wake up in the morning. Didn't want to believe it had really happened. You'd really left. Having it reaffirmed by the reactions of everyone around me- the shock. My trying to explain, trying to paint a picture where you weren't the villain, or I duped. People forming narratives around us, and me finally not wanting or caring to correct them.
My hope for us faded quickly. I think it's because of the bleed. I knew the hemorrhaging was vital- get you out. Let you go. Feel it all- I had to trust I wouldn't break completely. Trust I couldn't do it as I had before. I had never let anyone in so fully- of course excising you would be the most painful. Still- I cut you out.
Time is a funny thing- I thought it would take so much longer for me to let you go. For me to feel differently about you. Emotional cutting isn't always a productive process, but for me it was everything. It was the portal, the change, the clearance. I didn't give myself arbitrary dates- I stopped crying when there was nothing left to cry about. I stopped missing you when I realized I really didn't. I stopped hating you when I realized I was only hurting myself, and hating you was still awarding you a certain amount of feeling. You told me during the breaking you weren't mine anymore- as if I'd ever treated you like a possession. I stopped it all when I realized I was no longer yours.
I don't want to bleed like that again- in the corner of the bathroom with a towel over my face, or on the kitchen floor, or under the covers. I don't think we're allowed an infinite amount of times to drain ourselves the way that process does. I left a piece of me behind with you. The piece that thought I needed you, and needed to constantly prove I loved you, deserved you.
The rest of me turned towards light- towards happiness, towards wants. The pain in my chest is gone, and you with it. Months ago, I wasn't sure I would ever stop the bleed- now there's just a scar.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Piece it together.
"My divorce from dependence, that's when you found me. I was still soft..." - No Doubt
We carry the baggage from the ones who came before. Emotional scarring leaves marks no one can see, but they can feel. Habits and tendencies build up over time, and though we forget so much, we hold onto good and bad memories.
How do I pick it apart? How do I glean the good, and let go of the bad?
I've spent time on my own in between. There have been months and years between people. I know who I am on my own, and how to navigate this life when it's just me at the wheel. I'm confident. My edges aren't blurred, fading into someone else. It's when I add someone that things seem to go a bit haywire.
"I love you" was said quickly by everyone I've been with. Though I struggled with saying it back so soon, I always did. I didn't want to let them down. Which then became a theme. I always grew to love them, but what if we had taken our time? What if instead of infatuation, there was a slow burn? Why couldn't I allow for the space?
My physical attributes were a constant focus, so I felt pressure to maintain, " I can't keep my hands off of you", "Do you know what you do to me?". Sex always came into the picture sooner than it should have, at least looking back. This inevitably backfired. My mind and body would sabotage me, over and over. I felt less sexy, less desired. I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself. I was an object, rather than a person. Had they only wanted me for this? I am a sexual being, I want to be wanted- but what about the rest of me? Sex is a big form of expression for me as well, and it's so easy to get lost in the lust. Even after the breakups, it's something every one of them mentioned missing. Not my mind, or my heart. My body.
My insecurities allowed for the rush. I allowed being treated as a possession, a pretty thing to be held, desired, and treated as such. I played down my smarts, because I didn't feel smart. Hid my talents- that would be bragging. Covered up my anxieties- I thought they proved I was broken. I looked in the mirror and saw the little girl who felt ugly, my skin color too dark, my hair too crazy, my eyes too big. If I was their girlfriend, their partner, their wife, I would always be wanted. I kept leaving out how unfulfilled I was in the entire process.
My dreams couldn't be "normal" because they never were my partners dreams, not taking into consideration the fact that maybe we just weren't suited. Hindsight and retrospect can be so cruel.
My normal is the desire to have a partnership, to carry and raise children. To work, but not too much. Travel, get my doctorate, own a house. Have dogs, maybe stay in California, keep my family close. To know when I fall, they'll catch me. When I'm scared, they'll comfort me. My triumphs will be theirs, and vice versa. No more quid pro quo. I'm ok with give and take, but I gave it all. If I give it all, they've got to give it back- that's what I told myself. Expectation was never reality.
I want to be better, be bold, be patient. Enjoy the ride, don't force it, really fall. I want to miss them for the right reasons, and dream alongside them. When I get lost, have them find me. Remind me who I was, and who I am. Depend on one another in the right ways, not the unhealthy ones.
Piecemeal. Do it right this time.
We carry the baggage from the ones who came before. Emotional scarring leaves marks no one can see, but they can feel. Habits and tendencies build up over time, and though we forget so much, we hold onto good and bad memories.
How do I pick it apart? How do I glean the good, and let go of the bad?
I've spent time on my own in between. There have been months and years between people. I know who I am on my own, and how to navigate this life when it's just me at the wheel. I'm confident. My edges aren't blurred, fading into someone else. It's when I add someone that things seem to go a bit haywire.
"I love you" was said quickly by everyone I've been with. Though I struggled with saying it back so soon, I always did. I didn't want to let them down. Which then became a theme. I always grew to love them, but what if we had taken our time? What if instead of infatuation, there was a slow burn? Why couldn't I allow for the space?
My physical attributes were a constant focus, so I felt pressure to maintain, " I can't keep my hands off of you", "Do you know what you do to me?". Sex always came into the picture sooner than it should have, at least looking back. This inevitably backfired. My mind and body would sabotage me, over and over. I felt less sexy, less desired. I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself. I was an object, rather than a person. Had they only wanted me for this? I am a sexual being, I want to be wanted- but what about the rest of me? Sex is a big form of expression for me as well, and it's so easy to get lost in the lust. Even after the breakups, it's something every one of them mentioned missing. Not my mind, or my heart. My body.
My insecurities allowed for the rush. I allowed being treated as a possession, a pretty thing to be held, desired, and treated as such. I played down my smarts, because I didn't feel smart. Hid my talents- that would be bragging. Covered up my anxieties- I thought they proved I was broken. I looked in the mirror and saw the little girl who felt ugly, my skin color too dark, my hair too crazy, my eyes too big. If I was their girlfriend, their partner, their wife, I would always be wanted. I kept leaving out how unfulfilled I was in the entire process.
My dreams couldn't be "normal" because they never were my partners dreams, not taking into consideration the fact that maybe we just weren't suited. Hindsight and retrospect can be so cruel.
My normal is the desire to have a partnership, to carry and raise children. To work, but not too much. Travel, get my doctorate, own a house. Have dogs, maybe stay in California, keep my family close. To know when I fall, they'll catch me. When I'm scared, they'll comfort me. My triumphs will be theirs, and vice versa. No more quid pro quo. I'm ok with give and take, but I gave it all. If I give it all, they've got to give it back- that's what I told myself. Expectation was never reality.
I want to be better, be bold, be patient. Enjoy the ride, don't force it, really fall. I want to miss them for the right reasons, and dream alongside them. When I get lost, have them find me. Remind me who I was, and who I am. Depend on one another in the right ways, not the unhealthy ones.
Piecemeal. Do it right this time.
Saturday, June 16, 2018
Chapter 4.
"... in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason, you are behaving like the best friend." - The Holiday
"live, Live, LIVE! Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starvin' to death!"
- Auntie Mame
At the beginning of this year my most current relationship ended. Almost four years of investing and getting to know someone is now being put on a shelf. Habits are being forgotten, memories are fading. Dreams and plans built and made with them no longer hold any value, or priority. I'm starting over. Ok, this was my third rodeo. So much for third time being a charm.
Unlike all the TV shows we watch and love, we did not remain friends. I've never been someone who could do that- casually hang with them as if it wasn't earth shattering for us to break apart. To be fair, I never had to keep the kind of ties I had to with my last. Shared friend groups and interests, a common work space, hell- the same damn town, or all over my effing social media...ah well. I don't wish them any ill will. I'm just no longer invested. A protective mechanism, surely. All or nothing. I'm choosing nothing.
So I threw the book out I'd written for myself up to this point. I decided to tear myself down to the studs, and in my thirty-forth year of living decided I needed to be better. Better to myself first and foremost, which would in turn make me better for the people in my life. I've been so good at giving myself away for so long, often times to those who proved themselves unworthy of all I have to give. Also- what the hell did I want out of this life?
I'm not perfect, but I'm fucking awesome. It's taken a long time for me to be okay with saying that out loud. If you try to tell me I am, I'm still gonna get awkward and immediately tell you you're full of shit. I'm working on that bit. I'm well aware of my insecurities when it comes to my looks and smarts, my worth and place in this world- I need not to give the power away to others. Allow them to use the same insecurities I've shared with them against me, or my giving nature, or my want to help. I know I'll give you everything- can you do me a solid and not take full advantage?
Step 1- therapy. I don't think the poor woman was ready to be verbally thrown up on, but there ya go. She got an earful on a weekly basis, and helped me start to find the patterns. How I felt I needed to prove my value through acts of service to the people I love. By taking care of them, and by take care of them I mean DO ALL THE THINGS- I showed they were important to me. What I didn't take into consideration was how much of myself was lost in the process. I gave myself away at the expense of sleep, time. I fed into my most anxious patterns, and by spreading myself too thin, also fed into all of my fears. If I was better, I could balance it all. If I was worthy, they would want to give back to me. If I was valued, they would tell me, show me.
*Message* When you set the bar so fucking low for people, they aren't gonna rise to the occasion. I'm not knocking the good people in my life, past and present. They know who they are, and know I'm not referencing them in this narrative.
Step 2- Do my own shit. I went to my first opera, and my first ballet. I bought Groupons to learn to scuba dive, and dance lessons. I started volunteering. Bought a last minute plane ticket to Kauai and spent a lovely weekend surrounded by scantily clad professional and semi professional beach volleyball players, all while being very much intoxicated, (which is not a normal state of being for me). I threw myself out of a perfectly good airplane. I drank wine and ate cheese in bed. Netflix binged like there was no tomorrow, and started taking entire days off to read. Went to the beach, dinner, or the movies by myself, spent time to reconnect with everyone I'd hidden away from for so long. Good damn people who missed me, and hadn't taken me for granted.
Step 3- Open up. My initial foray into this was awkward. You see, I open up between relationships, then close off in them. Ugh. My friends and family aren't used to hearing all my thoughts and feelings. One friend told me she used to learn months later if I was depressed, or dating, or really anything because I was so damn good at keeping it to myself. Which is funny, because as I kid I had no poker face to speak of. Didn't hide a damn thought or feeling. All of the sudden they heard it all. I'll give it to them, I feel like all my people handled it swimmingly. On the good and bad days, they just listened. They didn't make me feel bad for the petty moments, or the sad ones. They championed the successes and the changes. I'm so lucky, and I know it.
Step 4- Establish what I want. My therapist looked at me one day and asked what I really wanted. I immediately blurted out a great partner and kids. I want a giver, not a taker. She asked about my professional life. I told her I've been very successful- I realize I've done and seen a lot of things people haven't. My bumbling working style led me into some amazing opportunities, and jobs. I've been all over the damn place. That all being said- the money, the acknowledgement, the shine of the jobs had lost their luster. Who gave a shit what I did day to day? I wanted the people to matter. I didn't want to be defined by what I do any longer.
Step 5- Tip toe into dating. One could argue timelines. Too soon? Too whatever. Fuck you. I tried a couple of dating apps... what a great way to scare the high holy hell out of myself. THIS IS WHAT'S OUT THERE?! I'M DOOMED!
Went on a couple of hilarious dates, went home and immediately thought I could just find a sperm donor, buy a dog, and call it a day... was about to erase the last one because screw it I could make a stylish spinster...
I'm dating someone now... (they had me at tacos).
Step 6- Slow my roll. I say that because I have a tendency to get a little ahead of myself, (hello understatement of the century). My business is doing great, my friendships are thriving, my family is just the best, I have my own routines, and I've met someone I really like. Nope- I have absolutely no idea how any of it is gonna go, especially the dating. I'm already learning a lot there though- they have their own shit, I have my own shit. I can't fix anything for them, I can only be present and listen... it's like my super power has been stolen. What do you mean you don't need anything from me? You just want to hang out because you enjoy my company, and for whatever reason find my crazy attractive?! Stfu.
Step 7. Don't get lost again. I've established healthy boundaries, and already called myself out a couple of times when I tried to erase them. I've asked for help- from the people closest to me, so I don't make the same mistakes. Don't borrow trouble, because really there's no damn point. Worry does nothing but make you suffer twice. Easier said than done, but I think very achievable.
I am my own leading lady, and I'm gonna fuckin' live. Maybe not the way I thought before. Let's be serious- pretty much 100% of the time the way things have turned out were far better than what I planned anyway.
Sunday, June 10, 2018
my favorite mistake
I'd never felt the way I did with you. You lavished me with attention, you made me feel like I was the only person you ever wanted to be around. It was so intoxicating, it felt so fulfilling. You wanted us to do everything together. Move in together. Be with one another always. I started to bend, to fold myself around you. I didn't realize how quickly I was getting lost.
There are the good memories, the exotic places we'd go, the shine around you. It didn't matter I had been around the same shine for years, I'd always been a step apart. I let it all wash over me, I let it all matter. I let it be more important than me and all I was doing. I was sinking, and couldn't even feel it.
I'd start to notice, on your long trips away. That's when I would call my friends, I would spend time with just myself. My anxieties would ebb away, I would plan... and then you would come back, and I would forget. I let you make me feel guilty for wanting to be with anyone but you. I was so infatuated. I loved you, and wanted only you. All the cliches they say about love are so true.
Time would pass, and I would put my head down and plan. If I looked to the future, I didn't see the cracks in the present. I'd get lost again and again in your smiles, your words, your touch. I kept allowing for myself to chip away. My dreams, my wants. I'd fight to remember, I felt torn, in a constant heightened state. I attributed it to my anxieties going into overdrive, I was borrowing too much trouble. It was a phase, and it would pass.
I worked so hard to make your dreams my dreams, your priorities mine. I'd wake up thinking about what you needed done that day rather than what I needed done. We lived in a microcosm- so small, the outside world didn't even penetrate.
So much neglect there. I was splitting myself in two, carrying the burden of your work and mine. If I carried the load for you and me, somehow I would prove myself worth of... what? What were you giving me? I know you loved me, but love isn't enough. Where was this love? I couldn't see it. I couldn't feel it. It was all words.
I turned further and further inward, my self worth tied to you, to your triumphs rather than my own. You monopolized my thoughts in a way no one had before. I kept telling myself this was what it was supposed to be like. Then why was I so uneasy? So...off?
Always off, wrong-footed by a constant gut feeling. I didn't pay attention. I pushed it away. The things that were good were so good. The things that were bad were... easily ignored. Constantly ignored. You felt it too, I know you did. You started to tell me what I wanted to hear, rather than what you wanted to do. You began to avoid certain subjects, I felt you pull away...
I was still so blindsided by the end. From picking colors of dresses to... nothing. Looking back, I shouldn't have been. It was all there- written so plainly. I gave you the very best of me, and left the scraps for myself. I allowed for so much turmoil, pain, heartache. All for the possibility of my dream, not even a fair shake. No guarantees.
Now I know- the things I wanted are out there. I want honesty. I want my dreams to be as important as theirs. I never want to feel less than, or because my dreams are small and simple, they are somehow not as important. I never needed glory, I never wanted to be a household name. I just want a good life, with all the twists and turns that come with it.
I think you were my last big learning curve. The last big push for me to realize I am as significant, as talented, as deserving. I can face who comes next with an open heart and mind, knowing I can say what I think and feel, and I know what I want out of this life.
You are my favorite mistake.
There are the good memories, the exotic places we'd go, the shine around you. It didn't matter I had been around the same shine for years, I'd always been a step apart. I let it all wash over me, I let it all matter. I let it be more important than me and all I was doing. I was sinking, and couldn't even feel it.
I'd start to notice, on your long trips away. That's when I would call my friends, I would spend time with just myself. My anxieties would ebb away, I would plan... and then you would come back, and I would forget. I let you make me feel guilty for wanting to be with anyone but you. I was so infatuated. I loved you, and wanted only you. All the cliches they say about love are so true.
Time would pass, and I would put my head down and plan. If I looked to the future, I didn't see the cracks in the present. I'd get lost again and again in your smiles, your words, your touch. I kept allowing for myself to chip away. My dreams, my wants. I'd fight to remember, I felt torn, in a constant heightened state. I attributed it to my anxieties going into overdrive, I was borrowing too much trouble. It was a phase, and it would pass.
I worked so hard to make your dreams my dreams, your priorities mine. I'd wake up thinking about what you needed done that day rather than what I needed done. We lived in a microcosm- so small, the outside world didn't even penetrate.
So much neglect there. I was splitting myself in two, carrying the burden of your work and mine. If I carried the load for you and me, somehow I would prove myself worth of... what? What were you giving me? I know you loved me, but love isn't enough. Where was this love? I couldn't see it. I couldn't feel it. It was all words.
I turned further and further inward, my self worth tied to you, to your triumphs rather than my own. You monopolized my thoughts in a way no one had before. I kept telling myself this was what it was supposed to be like. Then why was I so uneasy? So...off?
Always off, wrong-footed by a constant gut feeling. I didn't pay attention. I pushed it away. The things that were good were so good. The things that were bad were... easily ignored. Constantly ignored. You felt it too, I know you did. You started to tell me what I wanted to hear, rather than what you wanted to do. You began to avoid certain subjects, I felt you pull away...
I was still so blindsided by the end. From picking colors of dresses to... nothing. Looking back, I shouldn't have been. It was all there- written so plainly. I gave you the very best of me, and left the scraps for myself. I allowed for so much turmoil, pain, heartache. All for the possibility of my dream, not even a fair shake. No guarantees.
Now I know- the things I wanted are out there. I want honesty. I want my dreams to be as important as theirs. I never want to feel less than, or because my dreams are small and simple, they are somehow not as important. I never needed glory, I never wanted to be a household name. I just want a good life, with all the twists and turns that come with it.
I think you were my last big learning curve. The last big push for me to realize I am as significant, as talented, as deserving. I can face who comes next with an open heart and mind, knowing I can say what I think and feel, and I know what I want out of this life.
You are my favorite mistake.
Saturday, June 9, 2018
The darker moments
Sometimes it's just a bad damn day. Sometimes it's much longer. I never know when it's coming- I can never really prepare. It starts slow- my thoughts start to get a little cloudy. I can't remember the little things, like why I walked across a room. Then it blossoms into something bigger. I forget to eat. I don't want to get out of bed. Apathetic to all things, even my anxieties can't break through.
But no one knows me this way, they only know my smiles and jokes. A facade developed over years. Practice makes perfect, you know. When I give someone a glimpse, when I tell them maybe that day is a particularly hard day, the reactions are always the same- they suggest I focus on all I have going for me. I don't have a right to be unhappy when... fill in with all their thoughts and suggestions. Now not only am I feeling lost, I also feel guilty for feeling this way in the first place.
That's when the days get darker. I lose track of large swaths of time. Working through habit, coming awake to realize it's the end of the day, and I'm laying in bed. I don't remember getting there.
If a moment of clarity happens, I wonder if anyone has even noticed? I'm so known for doing things on my own, for going by my own drumbeat- have they noticed my real absence? This isn't attention seeking, but can they see me?
It's not their job. Don't ask for help. You got yourself here. Dig out. But I keep slipping back. I can't find a foothold, I don't want to try anymore. What if I just let go? No one noticed my absence at this point. It won't hurt anyone. It's just me. My blinders are firmly affixed.
Just when I think I can't... I laugh that day. Or I call someone and had them tell me about their day- awash with someone else's thoughts and feelings. I almost can't hear mine. Then it becomes like a badly tuned radio, going in and out. Then the feeling you get when you lay face up in a boat, and it rocks you back and forth. Good to bad. Good to bad. I don't wake up crying, I don't sit in the shower for who knows how long- just letting the water hit my back. I got up.
Sometimes it's just a day, a moment, a thought. Sometimes so much longer. I've always sought the light- I've always been lucky enough to find it again. Still, I hide this part of me. I feel so broken. Who wants to play with something fractured, so imperfect?
So I hide it again. Keep smiling, don't tell anyone. They won't have noticed anyway. Or they'll tell me to keep my chin up- there's so much to live for.
I know. Doesn't mean I can't honor these shitty moments in time either. They're mine too- the darker moments.
But no one knows me this way, they only know my smiles and jokes. A facade developed over years. Practice makes perfect, you know. When I give someone a glimpse, when I tell them maybe that day is a particularly hard day, the reactions are always the same- they suggest I focus on all I have going for me. I don't have a right to be unhappy when... fill in with all their thoughts and suggestions. Now not only am I feeling lost, I also feel guilty for feeling this way in the first place.
That's when the days get darker. I lose track of large swaths of time. Working through habit, coming awake to realize it's the end of the day, and I'm laying in bed. I don't remember getting there.
If a moment of clarity happens, I wonder if anyone has even noticed? I'm so known for doing things on my own, for going by my own drumbeat- have they noticed my real absence? This isn't attention seeking, but can they see me?
It's not their job. Don't ask for help. You got yourself here. Dig out. But I keep slipping back. I can't find a foothold, I don't want to try anymore. What if I just let go? No one noticed my absence at this point. It won't hurt anyone. It's just me. My blinders are firmly affixed.
Just when I think I can't... I laugh that day. Or I call someone and had them tell me about their day- awash with someone else's thoughts and feelings. I almost can't hear mine. Then it becomes like a badly tuned radio, going in and out. Then the feeling you get when you lay face up in a boat, and it rocks you back and forth. Good to bad. Good to bad. I don't wake up crying, I don't sit in the shower for who knows how long- just letting the water hit my back. I got up.
Sometimes it's just a day, a moment, a thought. Sometimes so much longer. I've always sought the light- I've always been lucky enough to find it again. Still, I hide this part of me. I feel so broken. Who wants to play with something fractured, so imperfect?
So I hide it again. Keep smiling, don't tell anyone. They won't have noticed anyway. Or they'll tell me to keep my chin up- there's so much to live for.
I know. Doesn't mean I can't honor these shitty moments in time either. They're mine too- the darker moments.
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