I Love- A type of Wonderfulness

(Figurative Literature)

We snagged, just for a second there, didn’t we? We bumped our heads together like idiots and we both came up concussed.

Everything was going so wonderfully, I was so delirious for you, but then… well, it’s life happening, not some romantic dream.
And I hope, I really do wish it with my eyes squeezed tightly closed and my hands balled firmly into fists at my sides as I concentrate, that next time we see each other we forget what’s “real” and indulge in our reality instead.

Because our reality, right now, it’s just about falling in love.

Let’s put the real stuff aside—the past, our insecurities, all the baggage we’ve imported from all our journeys—and let’s just be.

This is our moment to be fanciful, and we might not get another one, at least not together. I don’t want to have to “deal” and “cope” and “work” yet.
For now I just want to kiss you and lose myself in all the small moments when you wrap your arms all the way around me.

Things are complicated, I know, but let’s soar above that, at least for a day.
Let’s make getting to know each other about all the wonderful things that made us fall into each other’s embrace in the first place.

Let’s not mar it with all the ugly crap we’ve filled our pockets with over the course of the years we’ve already lived without each other’s company.
And then, once we’re madly in love, and only then, we can unleash it all upon each other, so that we’re equipped to deal with it the way that lovers do—patiently and compassionately.
You know how it is when we’re laughing?
That’s how I want it to be all the time when we’re together.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not idealistic or selfish—if you’re having a bad day I will be there to hold you and hold you until you don’t feel sore anymore, and I’ll do it without complaint or request.
I’ll do it because I care about you deeply.
But listen: we’re not ready for the heaviness of the past yet.
We can share and laugh and rub away each other’s daily miseries but I don’t want to delve into the backwardness of all that came before.
Not yet, at least.

I want you to trust me and know that every time I look at you all I see is wonderfulness.
I see lights and rainbows and everything good and awesome about this world all radiating out of you at once.
Yes, I’m intense and yes, I’m romantic, but can’t you just take my adoration for a second and let it make you as happy as it makes me?
Relax into me, because I’ve got you on a pedestal now, and there’s no one else in the room but us.
And this is half the reason I don’t want to share the dirty stuff with you—because every now and then you make me feel so warm it’s as though nothing else ever existed.

We could be best friends, you and me; we’re so alike in so many ways.
And now we have to decide whether we’re going to knock our likenesses against each other and explode into tiny bits that splatter against the walls, streaking downwards and pooling in insidious puddles, or if we can make those likenesses build each other up, like great cities or rolling mountains.
I’d like to think that we could be a team, that we could conquer everything together.
That we’ll draw from each other to be stronger and better.
That we’ll still be holding hands through all of winter’s blizzards. 

Because I need to love myself first <3

<img title="" class="alignnone size-full" alt="image" src="https://eliminatingwordbondage.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/wpid-f6cb253c7b92016fabed945ef06cfda6.jpg"

It’s that SIMPLE. Decided What You Want & Just Do It – Why Not?

It’s a 24-Hour Buffet

It’s lingered with me for too long, that poisoned whisper from my past.  

I knew I had to say something – I WANTED SO BADLY to reach out to her and apologize for my unawareness.

I didn’t know how to approach it – 

“The piano,” I whispered, “no one else knows that you can play the piano.”

She nodded at me with her forgiving eyes full of compassion.
My lips began to curl, forming a half smile – it’s all that I was capable of giving her in that moment.  But it was enough.

It’s beautiful – unconditional love.

It’s that clean slate – white – pure — Forgiving.

No nagging. No questioning. No assumptions. No justifications. No apologies. No mistakes.

Just Acceptance.  

Love.

A room full of people but in that very moment it was only us two; she forgave me as I forgave myself.  

“Jenny, I need you to sing.”

I owed it to her.

“I need you to sing louder” she whispered.

So I did. 

And so did everyone else in the room.  I knew I had found my way to the right place- I wanted to live in that moment forever.

Simplicity.

 

I know from too deep of a personal experience, no matter what, mind control is a losing game for everyone involved. Discernment should never grow in any environment where only one side of an issue is ever presented. Conflict resolution can’t be learned through assumptions and over-exaggerated accusations

Grace can’t thrive in a relational or ideological vacuum, nor can compassion, courage, or humility. We were designed to live in a multifaceted world full of wonderfully unique people who hold diverse opinions, we are all so very different. 

But in the end we are all unconditionally loved.

Allowing each other mistakes without judgement is much like experiencing the horizon for the first time- expanding our minds to acceptance; allowing the beauty of this design given to us daily instead of hiding from it in fear.  If you accepted everyone else and found love in all their mistakes then what would you have left?  Who would you blame for all the issues that have become your life?

You’d have a mirror – because if you stopped blaming others for everything that has gone wrong then the only one left to blame is yourself.

Don’t get me wrong, don’t ever take on someone else’s shit as your own.  There is a fine line between the things others have done to intentionally hurt another human being. There is still a type of evil that exist in this world- just don’t allow it to ever be yours.

In life, there will be other conflicts. Disagreements. Heartaches. Broken promises. Lies. Unkind words. Finger-pointing. Blame. Hate.

 It’s filtering through this that get’s tough – what is yours and what is mine?

It becomes too much; overwhelming-mind-clutter.

Simple is not what we always get but it’s striving to incorporate this in to your daily life that will eventually allow you to catch your breath.

Things don’t always have to be difficult. Difficult gets confusing – I prefer to be simple.

To ask forgiveness, allow myself to forgive.

Accept my past. I will no longer justify it. Not to anyone. Not even myself.

Unless someone has physically harmed you or another person in your life then I believe that most things are forgivable.

 I wish everyone could love that way.

Unfortunately, some hurts can become too powerful for you to simply kneel over and just thank God you survived it; instead, they lie dormant until a specific trigger jolts them back to life. I have seen a similar sadness play out in my own eyes over the last several months when I looked into the mirror to apply cover-up so that no one would know I had been crying.  I’ve watched people and things and ideas about who I am, the things that I thought I couldn’t live without disappear to the point I stopped trying to save anything but just stepped back and watched it go.  Everything I did, everywhere I went, the awareness of my suffering never completely left my mind.  It was a giant black hole of pain sucking everything out and away from me towards the Pacific Northwest.  

Now it’s gone and parts of me went with it.

 There is a beauty in forgiving yourself.  Here’s the thing that no one ever really tells you about losing everything- You have nothing to lose anymore.  And you’re still here.  That is a sort of thrilling freedom once you get used to it.  (You should try it). 

You get to build yourself up again.  You have nothing left to be afraid of.

Those things that held on to you &/or things that you kept so close to your heart that nothing could have torn them away from you — Cherish them.  Trust me, they are the very reason why you have been clinging to whatever amount of hope you have had left; encouraging you to fight these battles for Life.  You may not see it now but one day you will.  They may be the very things that frustrate you, irritate you and send you into an undeniably raw type of insanity but they are the very essence of love.  They are your hope. They are your strength.  They are the exact thing that you think about every day.

Once you realize this, once you accept them, once you hold them as your own – you will be catapulted into the heavens.

His little giggles and that sweet smile on his face is the only thing that is capable of making me weak enough to fall back down on my knees.

But those things are also what gave me the strength that made me, ME

Simply- living my dream. 

You see, it’s been more of a mild curiosity than actually wanting whatever it is I’ve been puzzling over for so many years.  Because if I really, really wanted all those things- those options were certainly within my grasp.  

So cheers to me – I no longer will custom order things, if that were my only goal in life- to seek out that type of perfection and I were willing to devote the next 25 years to seeing it in to fruition- it’s doable.  But having everything is the same as having nothing.  And that’s not what I want.

 It sounds hard and I want simple for now on.

I’ve decided to wipe everything clean.  Begin again.  Start fresh.  

Forgive.

Without questions.  Even without apologies.

It’s already been done.  It’s over.  I survived.

Forgive & Forget.

Most importantly, forgiving myself.

All at once.

So now I look at things as if I have every option continuously available to me at all times- like a 24 hour buffet- should I suddenly decide this is what I have always wanted. It’s already there.  It’s available.

It’ll all be new.  Once I find it- Then it’s mine.

Maybe that’s what it’s about, figuring out what you want badly enough to forgo everything else to attain it- even your own kind of love.

It’ll be mine. It’s that simple folks.

It’s a brand new kind of ME. .

Without A Doubt — I’m doing this.

What a “Hands Free” Summer Look

http://www.handsfreemama.com/2012/05/16/what-a-hands-free-summer-looks-like/

Such an inspiring post.

This blog, alone, will & has contribute/d to such a profound change in my own life, as well as my sons life. I’ve only read a few post and already feel more hopeful and unbelievably enlightened.

I’m excited to continue reading during my down time.

I am unbelievably grateful for this day, as it is my first time stumbling upon this and I know the risk I’m taking by admitting this but I’ve been extremely discouraged & lost hope in my abilities as a mother.  I had taken on too much & all at once – putting the most important part of my life to the side for selfish reasons; wanting to spend time achieving my personal goals in life.

I was too busy.
Drained.
Exhausted.

That’s probably the most painful thing I’ve ever confessed. 

To anyone.

I believe that the reason I am so capable of ‘fessing up to this is because I know how inspired I have become & when I get inspired I don’t let up on things easily.

So, I’m looking forward to a wonderful change in the dynamics of being a mother – that I know will make me feel complete & whole again. 

This is my # 1 goal & the best part – I’m 100% capable.

Simple.

Fast-Forward

Time often passes by us in what feels like bursts of wind. It sweeps up everything around us in a kind of blind rush, moving and eroding patterns before we can catch our bearings.
By the time it has passed — a week, a month, a relationship — it’s hard to even tell what has actually happened.
And it isn’t until things have settled back down, into a place where they can be recognized and counted, that we start to feel the full weight of what has changed.

Time with you was a burst of wind, and when I think of it, from memory alone I want to pull my sweater tighter around me.

I can’t say exactly what makes certain people more difficult than others, but there are undeniably those we love who refuse to fit into any shape we could possibly cut out for them. Their whole being seems frustrating, elusive, incompatible.
And with you, there was always a palpable difficulty.
I was a child again, playing with my wooden block toys, attempting to insert a triangle block into a square-shaped cut-out.
It never fit, and yet I didn’t possess the perspective or the self-confidence to understand that the shapes simply didn’t coincide.
For so long, I wondered what I was doing wrong, trying over and over again to make the impossible happen.
I couldn’t figure out why you had put so many lies in our lives.
Pretending as if you could just rewind our place in time.

You taught me many things about myself, about what it means to love and care even in the face of cold indifference. There were glimpses of compassion and understanding, sure, but I have no doubts as to the dynamics of our interactions.
I was always chasing, and you barely had to move to stay out of my reach.
Those moments of affection, without which the whole ordeal would have seemed worthless, became like tiny flecks of gold found in near-endless piles of soot and rubble.
If I could only keep digging, I thought, I would eventually uncover something beautiful — something I needed to believe existed between us.

I never did, of course. There was never a deeper level to our story than what you allowed on the surface. In that way, I admit that you were decent. You were up-front, but unfortunately you explicitly promised more than you would ultimately be allowed to give.
You made it seem as if it was almost entirely me, weaving elaborate tapestries of double-speak and hidden meanings that spelled out only the things I wanted to hear.
In the end:
There was nothing I couldn’t misinterpret for my own desire, my own need to be needed by someone in whom I invested so deeply. 

But the wind blew past us, the winter over more quickly than I’d ever seen one go before. There was a moment we were sitting on a porch, I was searching for an understanding behind all the lies – the mess we had brought into one anothers life.  Then, talking about keeping in touch, but we knew it wasn’t even worth it to try and then it was gone.

Our hands were touching, and then they weren’t.
If I had known that moment would be over so soon, I would have probably said goodbye then.
I would have liked to go out with a little dignity, a little closure — not drawn out over months of barely speaking, of me attaining perpetually higher limits of humiliation in my refusal to accept the truth.
To have confronted your unavailability head-on would have been a ripping off of the emotional band-aid, one I only thought I wanted to spend the cool days and nights of spring gently tugging at.

Then, for weeks -We didn’t speak; we didn’t keep in touch.
For a long time, I remained convinced that this period of distance was a strange emotional coma from which you would suddenly awake.
You would tell me that you were sorry to have been so weird, that you had always loved me, that I had always been right.
Just like the time before.
Leading me to believe what my better half knew not to be real –
I suppose I have watched enough movies in my life to believe that no story, if unsatisfying, is ever at its very end. 
Maybe this is why.
Or maybe it really was the words constructing lies.

The tiny flame of hope that this may all have been a petulant phase in your otherwise limitless capacity for love and understanding was perhaps more painful than the harsh finality of your disinterest.

To keep grasping at ever-slimmer chances of a happy ending was frustrating, and then ridiculous, and then profoundly sad. I would have liked to just go straight to sad.
After our time flew past me, the passing of days and months became more soft, more understandable. Time once again resembled the lazy river that it had always been, not catching me in its refusal to slow down and let me breathe. The weeks turned into months, and every last bit of dust from our strange little hurricane had settled. My thoughts of us had become — have become — tiny vignettes that pass in front of my eyes only when faced with a direct reference to you.
And they no longer carry a sting, or a turn of the stomach, or even a remote desire to reach out.
Life is better (as I had always imagined it might be) when I am surrounded by people of whose love I am completely sure.

I will not forget you, though.
I don’t think that you particularly deserve my memory, nor do I flatter myself into believing that you return my sense of vague wistfulness. There is no part of me that wants to return to the limbo I existed in for so long, or even the often-imagined parallel universe in which you reciprocated my feelings to the letter.

I do, however, want to remember what it feels like to be hurt, to want, to need something so desperately only to find out that your life is perfectly fine without it. As much as the little scar on my knee will always remind me to watch out when I am running, yours on my heart will teach me to be kind. Because I know what it feels like to be cast aside with indifference, and I know that it’s a pain from which the body itself takes a long time to recover. You will live in my mind as a cautionary tale, a fable of how much damage words can do — especially when “I’m in love with you” were only words defining insincere.
And though I am not nostalgic for what we did have, I am hopeful about life being filled with everything we didn’t.

Yours Truly,

Fast-forwad

22 Things Happy People Do Differently | Successify!

http://successify.net/2012/10/31/22-things-happy-people-do-differently/

The Fighter

I should write down these words ‘fore I lose them
Or write you a song just to use them

Someday you may wanna know who I am,
Beyond this facade no guitar in my hand,

No I am not a writer –
These eyes hold no secrets
I hide no truths
I am all I am, all I was to you

The lie and the promise, the great escape artist

The weed in your garden in that place you’re still guarding.

Where I am not a liar –

I am the fighter, though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter, few will remember my name

These are hands that can offer protection
But hid me from my own reflection

I’m that book that ain’t finished, a sink full of dishes
The horse that ain’t winning, the priest that’s still sinning
The spark that starts the fire
With loneliness next to me,
feels it’s misery,
nursing another black eye
On the turnpike, counting the headlights

-Those cars just like days pass me by

I am the fighter, though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter, few will remember my name

I am the fighter, though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter, a fighter’s born but not made

I should write down these words ‘fore I lose them
Or write you a song just to use them.

Wars Over

There is a type of feeling I’m  experiencing tonight that is hard for me to explain to others – I have been fumbling around with words in order to fully describe it in it’s totality.  Because I can’t seem to tag it I have found it to be much easier to just say that  I’m astonished by how effortlessly it’s been flowing through me.  It is, in fact, unique.
I just feel so much gratitude towards my past. Towards ALL the experiences and all the small & big things that have been part of me so far in life.  The bad, the horrible, the ugly and even the frightening devastating  moments seem to have played up their value as being a part of the greater good.

I’m hopeful again.

As I look ahead at all the new experiences that are to come and replace the memories of my past, I find myself truly, unbelievably happy again.
  I choose not to take all the memories with me – I made that choice tonight.  I’ve taken what good there was from them and know that I can put the moments I had once lived in, over & over in my own head, away where they belong.  I’ll pocket them away for a time I may need to pull them out as reminders of the strength that I have; the fears that I’ve overcome, the troubles I finally fixed and all the things I have finally let go of so that I will have enough space in my life for whatever in the hell may come next.
I haven’t said anything along the lines of this in years and I’ve waited for this day; the perfect place in time that I could find myself actually capable of looking in the mirror fearlessly without picking apart who I am. 

And proudly say I am one hell of a woman.

I now know, fortunately, I can be the best me everyday of my life and the beauty of that is it’s simply just a decision that I have chosen.  I get to use the experiences I’ve had, the ones I’ve learned from in order to avoid troubling outcomes, to conquer the seemingly bad days.  It may not always go well but I’m still learning, I am still growing up and I don’t have all that shit figured out yet but as far as all the shit that I took on in my past. It Is over.  It will never be able to touch me again.

It is my belief that an individual can take some pretty hard hits for another person – that’s because they have a strong heart.
It’s always safe to chose your battles wisely but It’s also my belief,as a mother, they are not just little battles when it comes to my son and when it comes down to it, I’ll fight the biggest wars for my little boy.

Today.

I can honestly say ….  It looks like we finally made it.   ;)