palate cleanse

"I love you". Words one should look forward to hearing, and saying.

In the last year when I heard them, they were said in a way I couldn't trust. It felt manipulative, and insincere. The situations those three words were used were very different, but the result was the same. A lack of reciprocity on my end.

I don't want to move ahead afraid of hearing those words again. Or of saying them myself. I don't want to carry a lack of trust. I want to be open to love, not afraid of how it comes to me. I also don't want to be afraid of loving someone back. It's funny- I never thought I'd ponder a thought process like this.

It's about the choosing. Choosing to go back into the world with an open heart and mind. Slipping my rose colored glasses back on, and staying open to the possibilities. I'm started to become excited again, for whomever is out there. Cheers to what and who comes next.

own it.

I'm quick to take on all the blame. Instead of only owning my faults, I own the faults of the others as well.

The truth is- I am more than my mistakes. So are you. The difference being, you want to lay them at my doorstep as well. That's not something I'll allow for you to do any longer.

Your words were so easy, but your actions less so.

Imagine what it could have been like- if you had any follow through? If you hadn't let your fear dictate your choices?

I am constantly afraid, but moving forward. What about you?

I am flawed, but aware. Unashamed, not unyielding. My pride is intact, but I'm not above admitting if I've done wrong.

You on the other hand...

singular.

"But you are different."

I'm honestly starting to wonder when I'll believe it. I never wanted to believe I was special. I took all the negative connotations wrapped within that, because of course I can't give myself an inch. Especially in this day and age, when people are clamoring to have a singular voice. Here I am, writing in a public blog... that can be taken all the ways one wants to take it.

Most days I enjoy standing in this skin. Most days I'm happy with who and what is in my life, and how I navigate it. Then there are the other days, I wish I was far more boring. I'd married so and so, taken that job, all of the "normal" routes that supposedly lead to happiness. Or at least what I fathom happiness is. But that very well might not be in the cards for me. Because of me doing things my way. Funnily enough, I don't even do these things on purpose, not always premeditated. I just... do them.

It's that fucking drumbeat I dance to, the rose colored glasses I wear. My belief in people, in dreams. I might very possibly be the most naive woman standing on the surface of this planet. Makes me wonder if some of the things I dream about will ever come to fruition.

I also want to believe if and when I find a person to be on the journey with me, they will understand I'm the hardest on myself. I am afraid of myself. I'm only just realizing how much I get in my own way. There are all kinds of special. This is one of them.

I'm wondering if I'll ever lean into my difference. If someone will fully appreciate it. And if I'll be comfortable more often than not in me. 

she was wearing a hawaiian shirt...

That first kiss was something else. 

We were both standing there, awkwardly on my front porch. We'd extended the night as long as we could. From dinner, to walking all about downtown, to failing to find a place for a drink three times before we finally found somewhere we could actually hear one another. I remember being so nervous the entire night, I could barely look you in the eye. I kept doing that nervous giggle... so embarrassing. You made me feel better by telling an embarrassing story about something you'd done that day. You let me know how nervous you'd been to meet me too. 

I'd wanted to kiss you the whole night. The compulsion seemed to come from no where, but there it was. I took the lead, and I don't regret it. I still wonder if you would have kissed me if I hadn't said anything. If I hadn't referenced a scientific study, then had to explain the damn thing because who the hell does that to let someone know they want to be kissed?

 I felt that kiss down to my toes. I liked the way you felt, tasted. 

The rest of the story, well- we did our best to flub it, didn't we? I'll get to keep the kiss though. The euphoria surrounding that moment.

You'd think we'd learn how to get out of our own ways. To forgive, to trust, to try. The good thing is though, in moments like that kiss, none of that matters. 

clear the air.

I haven't wanted to write at length for awhile.

Firstly- I was taken aback by peoples reactions to my posts. Turns out, a lot more people than I thought read the ish I write. All of the sudden I felt pressure to produce, which meant what I was writing wasn't genuine. Nothing like doubting your ability to do something that comes very naturally to you.

Secondly- everything I was writing was shit. I was projecting outward, away from myself. Thoughts and feelings about people and things happening around me. I was frustrated with circumstance, and with things beyond my control. I wasn't controlling the controllables. A good vent has a time and a place, but not the things I wanted to write about presently. They were inflammatory, accusatory, and often coming from a place of hurt. I can't tell you how many drafts I've erased in the last month alone.

Lastly- because what I post here can be left up to interpretation. Sometimes I like that. Sometimes I don't. When I write, a great deal of emotion is lost. Strong feelings of course can be conveyed through type, but so much can be lost too. I felt like I was doing a lot of explaining. I have to be alright with inviting that, especially with an open platform like this.

This blog is a snapshot into how I think and feel. The quotes, the pictures- they hold space for me. Sometimes a vulnerable one, sometimes a prideful one. It really runs the full gamut of emotions. I'm flawed, always learning, and so far from perfect. But I don't want to be perfect. I don't ever intend to hurt with my actions and words, but that happens sometimes too.

This is personal, so I take how people react to what I write personally. 

For everyone still along for the ride, thank you. For those who end up being part of my narrative- well, I didn't ever say I was easy to love, did I?