Friday, April 24, 2015


Said that I wouldn't push it, but I had one last thought before I go to sleep.
I would take the pain of losing you, knowing I had been able to see if we actually work as well as everyone thinks we do, over the pain of not trying, of not knowing every day for the rest of time if we could have worked. Because it is already too late for me not to hurt for loss of you. It is already late enough that no matter what happens, what we become, we are tied together. 6 in one hand, half dozen in the other. I don't have a winning hand, but at least one seems to be less foul, less wrong.

I know I can't save you. My super hero days are long past, because it turns out, I am not Batman. I am not Superman. I am not the hero. I am merely a mortal, a girl who looks out for the one person in her life who makes anything seem possible, even as broken as he is. I am a woman who sees so much potential in a man who doesn't see it. I will love you until forever, as much good it does me, because for it, I will hurt forever, knowing that one day, you will give up, no matter what I do. One day, you will be gone, and the pain very well may kill me, regardless of if we try to be more or not.

I love you.

That doesn't change because you don't want to pull me down, or because you don't want to hurt me. No matter what we do, at some point I will hurt. This way it is constant, very near to numbing, without the hope of knowing until one day I will have that sharp, bitter painfulness of immeasurable loss. If we try, there is happiness, and one day immeasurable pain. There isn't a choice otherwise.
For not letting me save you, you're doing your damndest to try to save me from the one outcome that is not changeable. You will, one day, hurt me, by not being here any more. And you would rather I not have the happiness as a balm, preferring I take the bitter pill in the hopes of lessening the pain.

THAT is where your selfishness lies; in not understanding that happiness would make the pain more manageable. Because we would have happiness, rather than uncertainty. A thousand small cuts without the proper care will kill just as surely as a fatal stab to the heart, but will hurt much more in the meantime.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Frenzied Peace

I never thought that I would find it again
that poetic voice that used to
SCREAM inside my head,
whisper sweet nothings in my dreams.

I never thought I would feel anything again.

My heads a mess of feelings lately

good, bad
anything but apathetic.

I watched you as you slept (creepy, I know.)

and watching you sleep,
seeing you            
                                                           not pretending to be anything,
                                                           just being you,

looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.

I so rarely see you sleep,

and seeing you sleeping so soundly
awoke that voice inside me,
that hauntingly beautiful voice I hadn't heard in such a long time,
telling me to listen,
 to let my pen take over,
to write again.

You didn't do anything,
 (stupid as it is)
I love you more for that.
 I can feel again. I can put the thoughts and feelings in a place where my poetic mind can elaborate, can bleed poetically in a way it had been hiding itself. Elaborate words where simple ones would suffice. My voice was gone for so long, I thought it was dead. I thought that part of me had died, the part that expressed everything it saw with a beauty that words often make smaller.

Today, I have realized that I cannot stop loving you, but I also cannot dare to push for more than we have. To push further would be to break us, what we have. I would rather have this game of pretend than lose all of it.

Today, I understand exactly what you mean when you say you can't risk losing this. I thought that I understood before.
Life tends to be more complex than that, and without that voice, my own sort of soul, I had no way of really grasping it.

I don't know if you love me.
I know you care.
I know you want to make sure that I am ok.

You've done that for so long, I forgot how important that is.
I don't appreciate you the way that I should.

It has been a long time since a moment was so beautiful that I HAD to get a pen and paper and write it down. More than anything else, I am glad to have that back. I could watch you sleep all day. Your face at peace, brow untroubled.... it is who you are when you don't hide, who you are when you don't hurt. I'd never seen that before.

Today, I realized that I could spend the rest of my life watching you sleep,
or, at least,
as long as you would put up with me anyway.

I've never been as clear as anything in my life.

You remind me of who I m, and help me forget the dumb mistakes I've made.
You show me my best qualities, and help me get past my worst ones.

With you, I am so much better than I have been, because I know that you don't judge me for my mistakes, for my failures. You pick me back up, tell me not to be dumb and push me right back into doing things the right way.

I forgot how nice it was to have someone push me.
I forgot how good it felt to have someone believe in me.
And you did it without being mean about it, or even showing that you were pushing at all.

Now I hear your even breathing, a quiet comfort I had missed; its simple beauty so inspiring and beautiful that it almost brings me to tears.

I have found the voice through your care and kindness.

You say that you don't know what you would do if something happened and you lost me.
I don't think you have realized how much you have helped me find me again.
My book laid dormant, for want of a pen, of my thoughts,to come flowing back into it.
My hand has missed this feeling, the cramping from writing so much so quickly, letting my thoughts flow freely without blockage.

I can feel again,
         think again,
         breathe again.
This wonderful feeling is so much more than I remembered.
It takes me to a place of peace and clarity.
It shows me what my head refused to see,
because of the RISK,
of opening my heart again,
honestly and truly opening my heart,
rather than just getting past the gnawing loneliness.

For once, this isn't due to some doting suitor who is beneath me,
who doesn't deserve my attention,
or who putts me up so high above himself that I seem perfect.

This is finding my equal,
someone to walk with and grow with,
who knows my flaws and puts up with me anyway.

You've been a constant thought in my life since you came into it.
I've seen your pain and suffering, been there when you didn't think you deserved it.
You've done the same for me.
 Without you, I would still be fighting to get by, as I am now, but I would not be me.
I wouldn't be the person who feels,
and writes,
and cares,
and expresses all of those things.

You have awoken in me the girl who wrote for reasons other than pain,
I forgot how much I love that girl,
that part of me that ran away for lack of love.

I never imagined, out of anything that could ever be given to me,
that I would be able to have her back.
I thought that I would forever fight to write down my thoughts,
that I would forever lose touch of pouring my soul down through my pen, onto the paper.
I feel everything again,
the welcoming cramp of hand and wrist,
the tingling of pure bliss through my limbs.

It has been present more lately,
and seemed so unfamiliar,
so foreign, like a passing chill on a summer day,
or, more accurately,
a burst of warmth in a winter chill.
It was there the day I woke to find you standing over the hospital bed,
alarms going off because I stopped breathing.
It was there when you held my hand
as I drunkenly apologized for anything I could think of in such a drunken stupor,
and again when the events of Christmas broke my heart and tore me to tears.

I don't know how much you care about me for sure,
but I do know
that the chemistry,
and the teamwork
we have, is very rare,
 and very beautiful.

Today, I found out I am the luckiest girl in the world,
because I can watch you sleep,
and know you will still be here when I wake up.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

3 years, and 5 days

It hit me today. My ex husband left me almost exactly 3 years ago.
In 3 years, I have made such outstanding strides, and rarely think about him.


That isn't entirely true.

I still think about him. I loved him.
I loved who I was when we started off, who he was when things were easy.
I wanted to spend my life with him, and he shattered my heart into a million pieces as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

If you've known me for a while, you know that I am a much different person than I was when I was a 23 year old newly-wed, intent on taking over the world. I got kicked in the dirt a few times, and have the scars to prove it. There are times where those scars are almost visible, and I know that will be less noticeable as time marches on. I still have issues with trust, and I still have issues accepting compliments, and I still have a problem seeing myself as a capable human adult. Some of those issues are as old as I am, and some are just 3 years old.

For those of you who weren't around:

3 years ago, I wanted to end my life. For the first time since I was 16 years old, 3 years ago, I wanted to die, because I felt like I was worthless, like there was no point to me being around, when someone who said that they were going to love me forever decided I wasn't worth the effort 8 months in. Out of anything that I could ever have expected, that was the least likely on my radar, though it should have been plainly obvious. My friends showed up and talked me down, and got me to a safe place, and even took me in for a bit so that I wasn't on the streets. I hadn't had a job for a month, but I had an interview the day after, got the job and managed to find an apartment that I could not really afford, and suffered dearly for it.

2 years ago, I made it back home, and I got an apartment after minor couch surfing, which I was glad to have the ability to do, rather than have to go to a shelter or sleep outside. I barely ever had food, and I worked 3 jobs trying to support myself, but I got by with a little help from my friends.

Last year, the apartment that I lived in became the place I had lived the longest on my own, which was such an amazing feeling to me. I felt like I was actually doing something the right way for once. I still didn't do too well at keeping food in my house, but a good friend helped me on that towards the end of the year.

This year, I will be moving into a house. With a bit of hard work, I will end up with a job that will pay me decently, with a standard schedule so that I can also attempt to have a life, and I will prepare for my little sister to come live with me if she needs to next year.

I am so much better off than I have ever been, and if I didn't have my friends and family, I wouldn't be here. Because truth be told, if my friends had listened to me tell them that I would be alright, that I didn't need them to make the hour drive, I would have died that night. I came back from getting smokes, and my friends were banging on the security door in the middle of the night, trying to get someone to respond so that they could find me. I have never loved Kelsi, Tyler, and James more. Especially James. I called the one friend I knew at the time who did not have a license, and he STILL managed to get to me in an hour to make sure that I was safe.

I'm not perfect. I'm not even CLOSE. But I do have to say that for all the things that have changed in 3 years, I am glad that I still have outstanding friends, who care about me and who are there for me when things are rough, even if it is my own fault.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

What do you want from me?

I don't express myself well in person all the time.
I don't want to say things that end up pissing you off or disappointing you,
but I'm tired of this game we play, the one where I never know if you are afraid to lose my friendship and won't risk happiness,
or if you honestly feel nothing more than friendship. I know you consider them the same feelings, but I can't.
I want to have a chance to see, to try, to do what needs to be done to have that chance. But if its all pointless, if it all ends the same way, then what the hell are we doing?
Playing a game of pretend, where no one wins for losing?
Ignoring feelings for the sake of comfort and ease?
Pretending that I don't care about you doesn't work, because you see through those easily.
Pretending that it doesn't bother me when you blur lines so thoroughly that my head spins doesn't work, because I can't read you like I can read most people.
I know you want my friendship, but I don't know if you want it only because you aren't interested in me, or because you don't feel you can be.
I have chosen not to be monogamous, because in the past, I haven't had someone who meets the standards I hold. Right now, the only thing you don't do that I need is cuddle randomly, which is because of the blurring of the friendship line, which I can understand and respect.
With you, monogamy would never be a chore, or a compromise. I know you don't believe that, but it is the truth.
The problem I have, is that I don't know what the hell you want from me....
And I don't think you do either.