the error of my ways

It's like stepping back in time, nothing has changed. In 3 years, the kids have grown taller. The house is a bit messier.

But the pictures still sit about. The cards on the fridge are exactly the same. My shampoo sits in the shower. My curling iron hangs off its hook. My blanket covers the bed. When will I go away?

The silence now between us is not from lack of conversation. It is anger. It is hurt. It is frustration. It is sorrow & it is regret.

Only regret that I wounded another, and so deeply, not regret that I left. Leaving was a good thing for me. I will never go back.

How do I help you to move on?

barriers

I have been at my current job since November. One of the issues I have been having is simply communicating with other's who don't speak the same language. They fall through the cracks into the left behind; those that someone else deem's aren't worthy of the time. Is it really all that difficult, just to try? To reach out? A simple effort can go such a very, very long way. Inside the heart, are we not all the same?

Inside, there is the same pain. The same heartache. The same struggle. And even the same longing.

Wonderously, in some moments, the same thriving happiness. The same love. The same connection to the world. So why then, do these barriers exist? WHY is it so fucking difficult?

Language. So many, many avenues of language. The language we speak. The unspoken languages. The language of the heart & soul.

I despise that communication can create such havoc in one's life. Language barriers.

There is but one solid factor that can cross any barrier: love. Pure, simple, sweet LOVE. The kind the builds roots in your soul & grows strong through every storm.

My four year old son, sitting in my lap tonight as I was writing this, asked me if he could play a game on my phone. I told him, "not yet, I'm writing."

"Momma, why are you writing?"

I looked into his eyes, wise beyond his years, and decided not to hold back, "Because my heart hurts, baby".

I thought the conversation was over as he laid his head on me and stared off. A minute later, sitting up right once again, "Why don't you take some medicine?"

Lost in thought, trying to marry what was in my head & my heart; struggling to pour myself into the right language to be truthfully heard, I stumbled back to his sincere face staring intently at me. Those pale blue eyes opening that which I try so very hard to leave behind.

"Medicine for what honey?"

"For your heart." Those simple words brought stinging tears to my eyes.

"Sweetie, the only medicine for your heart is love," I whispered into his ear.

His crooked smile, "I love you momma," as he wrapped his arms around me and lay his head on my shoulder again.

He had broken the barrier. How could I have forgotten how healing love can be?

Medicine for the heart. The universal language.

Love.

contamination of the mind

There's something that I just can't explain... I thought the world had lost its sway (it's so hard sometimes). Then I fell in love with you (and then came you, and then came you) and you took that away (it's not so difficult; the world is not so difficult). You take away the old, show me the new and I feel like I can fly when I stand next to you....
~ Blue October, Calling You ~

I don't understand the allure. The glittery goodness of it. Why would anyone want to alter their mind? To cover up life? It's still there. Waiting. Piling up. Wasting away the limited amount of minutes granted to you; shortening the life you could have.

Am I alone in wishing for more? And yet I am so very close to wanting the end. Maybe it is to that end that the fear builds ... feeds.

What is it about life that is so overwhelming? That creates the undeniable urge for you to hide, to blitz away the preciousness of reality?

Yes, Life is difficult. Painful. But also happy. Memorable. Why do you erase that?

The issue is the contamination. The damage. The reasoning behind willfully altering reality. The overwhelming desire to lose yourself. Covering up what is there does not make it disappear.

Why can't I be enough? Is it too far fetched to wish for the fairy tale? To just allow that magic to heal the wounds & bond two souls? Do I not deserve it? Then don't ever tell me I do. Meaningless words. I hear nothing.

I can see.

bring me down

... Or follow me down. I can't decide which way it is; I'm simply aware of the direction I am in. E was right. Who comes away from him unscathed?

Fucking people just don't get it. Don't get what I'm am capable of, what I truly have inside. All this fucking struggling. Finally someone I can feel open with. Feel connected to.

Again, left behind. Like I said he would. But no, he reassured, never. Always & forever.

Blindsided by my mistakes. When will I get it? Better yet, when will someone else GET it? My strengths are NOT my weakness. I will not allow you to tell me who I am. Just like I do not allow him to. It IS me in control.

I am not the one who struggles with identity. I am simply the one who suffers for it. I have known all along, have been fucking honest, brutally honest. I have allowed you in.

I AM ready for this. YOU are not. And yet you place the blame on me. Open your eyes. That makes you no better than the issue. That does not leave me as the dishonest one.

I'll take that blame, since you can't carry it. What's one more burden to bear? What's one more brick in the wall? One more shadow to darken my way? I'll stumble through darkness, because I have seen what it looks like in the light.

I was comfortable in my darkness, and yet finding my way out. The struggles that you hold tucked away in your mind are ever present, ever looming, dark & burning. Possibly, you were looking for an answer that I would not give you, so you gave it yourself? Scared that our differences would get in the way? Thus ended it already. I hate life. Now you see why.

You are different from anyone else? No, you are the same. You would never walk away? You just did, with such ease. My worries were unfounded? Insightful.

Empty.

shadows...

...of reality

I found this poem on another blog and snatched it. Only after leaving a gracious comment, of course. It speaks to me in such a way that words do not do justice. It is proof that there is romanticism in strength & independence. That today is the moment to cherish, while keeping yesterday in mind & tomorrow in a fuzzy focus. Read it. Does it speak these things to you? And more...?

After a While
by Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while, you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
And futures have a way of falling down in midflight.
After a while, you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure.
That you really are strong.
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn...
With every goodbye,

you learn

I yam who I yam

A few pieces of pertinent information that you should know:

A big wooly animal from Asia is a Yam. Don't try to correct an 8 -year-old Einstein.

I have graduated from the bunny blink to the doe blink. Ask April at http://www.findingmywingsinlife.blogspot.com/ to find out what this means.

My daughter came into the room the other night, crossed her arms in front of me, assumed "the stance", and blurted, "Cinderella's mom keeps on smacking me when I hit her cat." I was speechless. Where do y0u even attempt to start with that one? She's screwed on the gene pool, both sides of the family seriously need medicated. (No secret lingo here.)

Wing Seeker believes that I should be just fine interviewing our guests on the Hands of Partnership tv show, because I have so much experience interviewing guys in the last two years. Ummm, darling, that's not exactly how it works. Unless you want our interviews to be sold in XXX stores, and I'm pretty damn sure you would have to change the name of the show (well, it is a catchy title actually...) and quit your job. Pronto. 'Cuz that just would fly so well.

Chocolate milk is yummy.

My favorite all time answer is:
"I guess the answer is ... how long do I feel?"
Take THAT out of context and what do you get? Especially when I was having issues following the conversation in the first place. A. M. A. Zing.

into the ocean

THIS life is not my destiny. How did I end up on this path? The worthless years I spent waiting, with no reward. Punishment instead. A fucking cruel joke. And you think I want to go back? To continue in this life of misery & shame? Keeps me spinning in place. Seeing the potential, right there, right fucking there. Where I can almost touch it, only to fall another step back.

I so badly want it to end, but not in the manner that you would presume. I want to eliminate the equation. Fall into the ocean.

Take me some where new. Better yet, I will take myself.

Would you like to go?