Desperate and Pathetic but Just as Beautiful to Me

It’s been a while.

 I don’t really know why, sometimes I guess its hard to write things down because it’s like the words can say one thing but how I feel is entirely different and I dont know how to articulate it in black and white.

 Things are moving along, I’ working, I’m trying to get settled now.  It’s like I have lived a certain way for so long not wanting to get attached to anyone or a place or home and now I’m trying to let my guard down and be calm and still but I still feel this fear.  Last night someone told me that I have huge commitment issues and I laughed.  Because I didn’t think I did, I was like I’m happy with one person and I am so fiercely loyal.  But I didn’t realise that there are other parts of commitment that I do avoid.  Making long term plans, settling into the house, showing affection.  Because I am scared, I am so fucking scared I feel like I need to be ready to disappear if he throws me away.  So yes, I am committed to him but I am also protecting myself.

 Last night we were moving things out of the other room to convert it into a “true” spare room and I’m not sure why but I had a bit of anxiety, not that I have ever stayed in that room. It was almost like the last part of my personal identity vanishing.  The things in my cool calming colours, my array of moisturisers, the photos and the knick knacks gone.  The apartment gone, my car sold… the little things that hold memories for me in drawers and boxes.  m

 All my safe places are shared now and theres a huge amount of joy in that, but it’s also terrifying. Because if he hurts me, really hurts me I have no where to run now.  So there’s this huge amount of trust I have placed in him, and a lot of trust I have placed in myself to fall into that.  It’ scary, but I have this weird sort of intuition still begging me to be patient. Telling me this is home.s

 So I’m still working a bit on who I am when I am with him and my things and space are gone.  I feel like I was never anywhere you know?  But I’m working on it.

So old girl, another birthday tomorrow.  And my God, what a year.

 So much has happened, so many things I never thought would ever happen happened in such quick succession.  I have become stronger, but I have also found my weakness.  I fell in love for the first time in my life, although I still wont admit it nor say it out loud.

 The funny thing is, throughout my life I have often wondered if I would ever love anyone. I wondered if I was capable of being “in love”.  My heart is so big and it expands constantly to love everyone I meet.  But I had never been “in love”.

 Then I met him. And love wasn’t what he was looking for, and if I am honest love wasn’t what I had available to give.  But it happened, and I fell completely, dangerously and irrationally in love.  I didn’t realise it at first.

 It was never a big moment that made me realise it.  It was all the little ones.  Like the way my heart softened when he was vulnerable and his voice changed. The way I realised that as long as he was looked after, I was content.  Little things day by day.

 The way he reached for my hand during the night, or would pull me closer to him in his sleep.  The moments where he would cross a line and look at me hoping he could joke his way out of it.  I fell in love with all the little broken pieces I had to seek out because they weren’t whole.  I held each one in my hands and loved it until it found its way home and he recovered a little more of himself.  And then I fell in love with the whole.

 Slowly I fell in love with his skin and his scars.  The way his hair fell in his eyes as it dried.  I fell in love slowly with the way he could relate to anyone, anywhere and ask questions I couldn’t even ask people I had known all my life.  

 The way he would talk to people about me, and I would meet them and they would know exactly who I was.  That I was important.

 Yet nearly a year on, he still tells me not to be so attached.  And he swings between planning the future together to telling me to date other people.  That’s my curse.  No joy without pain.  No simplicity in my happiness.  No security in my vulnerability.  

 And it’s been hard.  Because I always said: once.  I can fall in love once. No more.  I know myself well enough to know my heart was only crafted to love once, to love one man. And I knew that if it didn’t work out then I was done.  I’m not willing to accept that it’s over yet.  

 I’ve said it before, I know that in all probability the pain of a thousand broken bones lies in my future.  The pain of watching him walk away to find someone better is almost certainly in my future.  But it’s not going to hurt any more, nor any less if it ends tomorrow.  So, I am here.

 This other naïve little voice in the back of my head keeps saying have faith.  Be patient.  It’s going to be okay.  And I’m not sure which to listen to.

 I’ve always been funny about birthdays.  I usually feel insignificant.  You know how most people have favourite birthdays they can recall? I don’t think I have one of those. I know I had a big party for my 5th birthday because I have watched the video over and over, trying to catch glimpses of my grandad.  I never had a Sweet Sixteen, or an 18th… I remember on my 21st birthday I was lonely.

 On my 30th I went on an online date that lasted all of 30 minutes before I managed to scramble my way out.  I was sick for a week after that.

 I usually get so sad because I feel so unimportant.  I don’t like to compare myself to others, but sometimes it’s hard not to.  I don’t get flowers, or surprise parties.  I don’t go out for dinner with friends and the phone calls I get number maybe one to three.  

 The past few years, I have just wanted to run away.  There have been birthdays I have found myself driving 3 hours past where I was meant to take an offramp just because I needed to get away from that feeling.

 I’ve never been one for attention, it makes me uncomfortable.  But there is something about not mattering very much on a day that you are supposed to be special that I don’t cope with very well.  So I guess in some fucked up way its like if I go away then it wasn’t so much that no one cared, I just wasn’t around.

 But tomorrow I am not running away.  I am going to work.  And I have asked him to have coffee with me, just so I have something to stay for you know? Because I wont stand him up.  I know that much.

 He keeps asking what’s wrong, and it seems like such a stupid thing to be sad about and I don’t want to make it awkward because he doesn’t know that it’s my birthday. I’m not going to tell him or let him find out by accident.  Maybe it will come up some time next year when it doesn’t matter anymore and we can laugh about it.  

 So this is why I don’t like my birthday.  Because I get upset and delicate and I cant seem to shake it.  I just wade through the few days before, then get through the actual day and then everything is okay.  But the few days suck.

 I have come a long way, and I know I have a long way to fall and a lot of recovery from failure in my future.  But I am not sitting still anymore, I am moving in the right direction now, cautiously in some ways, irresponsibly in others.

 When I turn 32 next year, I have absolute hope and faith I will be smiling.

I couldn’t help but wonder, at times, what it would be like if someone had somehow known what it was that I wanted.  If I had ever been asked.  When it comes to relationships, or “the” relationship that defined them all, what I wanted was complex.  I have never craved the ordinary, nor have I had the desire to fall into comfort.

 I wanted adventure.  I wanted a person who could be lying in bed next to me reading the paper but still felt like the wildest adventure I had ever had.

 I wanted honesty.  I wanted it in their eyes.  Pure, unadulterated, sometimes painful honesty.  The kind that ran through a person’s veins to the point their words didn’t matter.  Someone who’s body would tell me they wanted to be there more than their words could.

 Pain. I wanted someone who felt pain, who knew the power of it.  Someone who knew that sometimes it was necessary, sometimes it was a lesson.  Someone who knew how to walk with it rather than be crippled by it.  I wanted someone who knew pain, but wasn’t defeated by it.

 I wanted him to choose me.  I wanted to be the one that he chose.  Not the one that was a second rate, second choice. No.  I wanted him to choose me and to continue to choose me every day again and again.

 The look. I wanted him to look at me the way I looked at him.  With kindness, with gentleness… I wanted him to look at me like I was magic, just as I looked at him as if he were the magician.  I wanted the look.

 I didn’t know what I wanted for my future beyond wanting him to be part of it, you know? I didn’t know about kids, or buying houses, getting promoted or seeing the world.  All I knew was that if he was with me, every beautiful thing I ever saw would hold more.  Its brilliance would be tenfold and my heart would be freer to enjoy it.

 I wanted those days spent in bed, not wanting to move.  The days that turned to nights where everything just felt perfect. Where outside didn’t exist, and anything outside of our bed didn’t matter for a little while.  I wanted days that turned into nights that turned into sunrises that turned into kisses that turned into love.  Days wrapped up in safety and bliss.  Days where sometimes, it was just us, and that was okay.

 I don’t ever ask anyone for anything.  It doesn’t mean there aren’t things I don’t need, I have just become very good at being emotionally self sufficient, but I am tired today and not the kind of tired sleep will fix.  And I’ve been riding this rollercoaster of maybe we will and maybe we wont and it’s like this constant feeling of whip lash or ever present motion sickness where I’m trying to tell myself it will all be okay but in all honesty I am not sure that it will be.

 So I keep thinking “ you have gotten through stuff before.  You were okay, you were able to be happy before. You were so strong and resilient and you kept your softness and you kept loving.”  But then this time I’m not sure where to pull all of that from and I keep seeing things that say don’t go back to what broke you but my problem is that I cant walk away from it in the first place.

 I used to think it would be easy, that men were strong and they knew what they wanted.  That if you gave people the opportunity to be honest, they would be.  I truly believed that maybe I would be for someone, you know?  Like there would be someone out there who would wrap me up, tell me I was safe and mean it.  I thought maybe there would be someone on my team, someone I could care for who would hold my hand and tell me I mattered to them just as they mattered to me.

 And I say “the world can be a cruel place”.  He said why does everyone think that?  Like it is some kind of cop out, and he is right.  Because it isn’t the world that is cruel, it is the people who inhabit it.

 I guess what I’m trying to say is that right now all I need is someone to say “I got you” and mean it.  Because I’m not sure I have even got myself today. 

Be patient.  Beautiful things are coming.  Be patient.  

 That's all I have been hearing for so long now, knowing that I could get hurt so badly I never ever try again.  But like one of the modern greats said: you have a choice now, either break my heart or love me.

 Its too late to shake hands and walk away with no consequences.  I'm here in this moment and I'm all in, whether I want to be or not.   I just have to have faith, I just have to trust him and I do.  I feel safe, and I can feel the sun on my skin and it's warm and beautiful and I can sleep.

 I don't seem to be able to write anymore though, and I don't know why.  It's not that I don't feel inspired, because I do.  But I perhaps feel more inspired to live the story now than to write it and I think maybe my writing often came subconsciously from such a place of pain that now I feel happiness and all these pretty things that it's just gone now.

 And I haven't been writing in my blog.  I just havent needed to.  Dont get me wrong, there have been moments where there has been pain so excruciating I just wanted to run back to all the things that hurt me before just to feel a kind of pain that was familiar instead, one I knew I was capable of overcoming.  But I didnt. I just had to feel it, I had to go through it.  I had to come out the other side with my faith in tact and I did.  Stronger.

 Be patient.  Keep a cool head, stand up straight.  Keep moving.

 I'm having to learn to let go of my drive to protect myself though. My body language is very much dont touch me.  I dont want to be like that with him because I trust him and I need him to know that.  And I know that he's vulnerable with me sometimes too, because when he lies next to me and looks me in the eye I can feel it.  I want to be like that with him too, and I know I am getting there.  Still learning what a flower is as Charles would say.  

 And it is the most beautiful flower I have ever held.  

When things get hard, I tend to reach for the things I know aren’t good for me.

 People usually.  

 And lately I’ve been feeling disposable, and it’s so fucking lonely but I find comfort in the same place that I know will ultimately cause me pain.  That’s the thing they don’t tell you, you know?  That sometimes the things that hurt you are also the only things that can numb the pain they cause.  It’s so confusing.

 I guess at the end of the day I am looking for somewhere honest.  Somewhere to stay.  I’m still looking for home.

 I pour myself into people, my compassion gets the better of me and I have never seen a wound I haven’t wanted to heal.  I have never found a broken person I haven’t wanted to keep safe.

 But when I lie there with him, I’m the one who feels safe and it’s unchartered territory.  He wraps me up and I bury my face in his chest and tell myself that no matter how it ends, these are the moments I need to remember. When I curl my fingers over his shoulders and feel him pull me closer, these are the moments.  Even if he doesn’t want me, even if I am disposable to him too. These are the moments I feel safe enough to sleep, really sleep.

 And these are the moments I don’t understand how anyone could have ever walked away from him. How any living creature on this earth could have this man’s heart and bare to walk away… how they could hurt him. I don’t understand.  

 Because I am just his pal, Fred and there is no way I could walk away before he throws me away.

 I’m standing on the edge, knowing it will come and that the only way forward is to fall.  I have the pain of a hundred broken bones in front of me, but I am just standing here suspended in a moment because the moment is too beautiful to leave before it’s done.

To the person I will love, 

There are days when I feel jaded, tired.  Wandering around stumbling into people, wondering if they are you.  

Spending time looking for kindness on rough hands, being let down and pretending it doesn’t matter because I dont know if it’s allowed to matter.  I know I am likely to lose so many little pieces of myself in the arms of men who don’t know how to hold me while I’m looking for you. 

 Sometimes I worry there wont be enough of me left to recognise when you do get here.  Are you here?  Have you ever been here?

There will be more times I give myself away carelessly and dangerously, when I think maybe it’s you… maybe you have come for me.  And there will be nights where I will realise with crushing brutality that you havent.   

There will be mornings where I have to carefully pack the hurt back into its box and paint my face with hope and artificial glow.  Mornings I will need to stand at the door and count three deep breaths to steady myself, close my eyes and smile until it feels authentic before stepping out into the day.   

Days where I will wonder why no one sees me, really truly sees me.   

I will follow those days with nights of drinking and laughing... dancing with strangers to prove to everyone that I am okay.  That maybe I am a supporter not a lover... pouring my energy into trying to prove it doesnt matter when we both know it matters more than I am brave enough to admit. 

But then when you come, I’m sure there will be nights that I will wish I could stay lost in forever.  Nights I will want nothing but your skin on mine.  

There will be nights we will want to bake cakes in the dead of night in our underwear… and nights you will talk to me honestly and without fear about everything that hurts.

Nights I will kiss your fingers and run mine over your skin until you fall asleep. Where I will understand that you will need to put your head on my chest and have me hold you, not the other way round.  And I promise you, those are the nights I will give you everything I have. 

Please be patient with me.  I’m learning.   

I’m not entirely naïve. I also know there will be days you get upset with me.  Times that you will throw your hands up in frustration, please know that I am frustrated with myself too.  

Sometimes I don’t know how to say what I mean, because I am scared.  Vulnerability hasn’t ever ended well for me.  Be mad, yell… do what you need to do.  But please don’t walk out.  Don’t leave.  

Know that as long as the yelling ends in kisses we will be okay.  I will learn, my heart is so big it scares me…it is still learning how to love.  It will still be learning that you arent going to walk away. 

I promise to show you why it’s so important to dip your toes in the ocean and how beautiful it is to swim in the rain.  I promise to never, ever pull my hand away when you reach for me.  I promise to try my hardest to be better every day, to never get complacent about loving you.  We are too full of life for that.  I will work every day to love you tirelessly with every inch of my body and every part of who I am.  

Because that is the kind of love you will deserve and that is the only kind of love I am capable of, the all or nothing.  I will show you I know I am safe with you when I sit on the floor and unpack my soul without fear.  When you see me cry and I don’t feel like I have to apologise.   

There are times that I will want to turn your tears to laughter – but there will be times when I know they need to fall.  These are the times I wont let go. 

I wont ever let you doubt how loved you are.  I wont ever forget how it felt to wait for you.  

Because these people around me come and go, and they tell me I’m special and that I’m a good girl.  I am sick of hearing how wonderful I am, how happy I will make someone… how much I am “liked”.  I’m sick of hearing about the type of man I “deserve”.  

Men trying to find my faults and then thinking I must be a liar because they cant find anything they believe to be catastrophically “wrong” with me. And they touch me, but they aren’t strong enough to hold me in their hands for long enough to understand. 

They never stay, they take and they go and I am trying so hard to keep myself whole for you.  But I am just stumbling around with hands grabbing at me that I am getting tired of constantly trying to push away.

I met this boy, and he’s special. 

Special in the way that when he looks at me I forget everything that’s hurt me and remember everything that has ever been kind.  Maybe that is his gift, one that he hasn’t learned he has yet.

And he’s sort of really beautiful when he smiles.  I understand that when he smiles, it’s profound because I am coming to learn more of the pain he is overcoming, pain I can feel radiating off him.  

Pain I dont know will ever truly dissipate.  Pain I am not close enough to try and cool. 

I get scared that I have let him in, I’m so fucking guarded all the time.  People know the rules; don’t touch me, don’t ask me questions that require me to take off my armour.  Drink sangria with me in the sun and laugh.  But don’t try and get under my skin because when I am vulnerable I tend to get hurt; under the facade I am so delicate. 

It hasn’t been like that with him, I took off my armour the moment I first saw him smile all the way to his eyes.  It wasnt a choice.  I know this ends in my pain in place of his, but I dont know how to be safe anymore. 

I don’t know what happens now, maybe I don’t want to know.  Be happy. Take every moment and breathe it in and act with absolute honesty.  Be brave. It’s going to be okay. 

Grow. 

I’ve started to realise how easy it has been to get used to sharing my bed and how despite being in this precarious position on the edge of being hurt how safe I have felt. 

And maybe that was the problem all along.  That I have never felt safe before.  But it’s not a boring kind of safe.  There’s a calm, but an electric nervousness.  Fear. 

I was talking to Liv last night and she said it’s okay, I’m allowed to be scared after what Don did. Because I told her sometimes now when this man walks out the door in the morning I get scared he’s never coming back, that I understand one day he wont. But she said I need to have faith in him, because he is a man with kindness in his skin. 

I have to be brave now.

I’m learning a lot at the moment.

 Most of all I’m learning to just let go and not worry so much about the consequences.  I know that I could get hurt now, I’ve crossed that line. But life shouldn’t be spent waiting for the sword to fall.  It should be spent in the warmth of hope, enjoying the beauty of moments without being afraid of how they end.

The past few months have collectively been a period of great transformation not only for me, but for those I love.  Change can be unsettling.  I’m learning that being unsettled isn’t all bad, it’s kind of exhilarating.  

There have been babies and love stories, death and pain.  I have witnessed beginnings and ends, I have seen tears and triumph.  I have welcomed new little beings into the world and seen friends become mothers and others become people I used to know. 

There have been nights I’ve stayed out too late dancing in bars and not caring.  Mountains I have climbed and people I have let in that I had kept out for so long.  I have run, I have walked, I have lay on the beach at midnight just being.   

I’ve been brave, and I’ve taken chances.  I have trusted him and he has been so kind and patient no matter how frustrating I know I must be at times.

I guess I have been selfish lately, being where makes me happy.  It’s been important, I have been so incredibly lucky and I don’t want it to end. Because there is this excitement in my bones that I don’t want to let go of.

Part of me wants to tell you what it was like when you left.  When you took what you did.

 I want to tell you about the two days I spent walking lengths of the beach in the middle of a vicious summer storm because I didn’t want to be with anyone but I also couldn’t just be by myself at home.

 About the time I was in the supermarket and all I could think about was falling onto the floor and sobbing because that’s where it all hit me.  How stupid I had been, how used I felt.  

 The afternoons and nights I spent running through desolate bush until I threw up just to get it all off my mind.  To try and avoid facing myself.

 I want to make you understand how I beat myself up for believing you.  I need you to understand that I ran over all of your words and when I could see them for what they were I was so crushed I didnt know if I would ever be whole again.  

 How I had to take my good memories and slowly destroy them so I didn’t keep going back to them like an addict.

 I want to tell you about how I cried and I drank… and how I didn’t want anyone else to touch me because I couldn’t bare it.  I was scared, disgusted.  I felt marked.

 I want to tell you that now every time he walks out the door in the morning I shake because I am scared that he wont come back.  That I keep thinking if I could be wrong about you, how could I be right about anyone else.

I’m on my feet, I have found peace.  I am centred, I am excited.  I never lost my happiness, but it’s warmer now.  It’s in my eyes, no more rain to hide from.

 My passion is back, the things I love are shining brighter than ever and I’m taking the time to feel the sun on my face in moments that are so beautiful I think my heart might burst.

 And there’s music again to dance to.  There’s laughter and there’s stars to watch that for a couple of weeks I forgot to tilt my head back to look at.

 I think what I am really trying to say, is that I am ready for someone else to touch me now.  Someone with kindness on their skin.

 S x

I’m trying to move on. I am really pouring my heart into moving on.  To setting myself free again.

 I am meeting people, I am trying to be open.  I have to believe that the way I felt is something I can feel again.

 And maybe that fire, that chemistry… maybe it’s not sustainable.  Maybe it burns out, it’s unpredictable and it’s exciting but it was also painful.  And when you take it away, your skin is scarred and cold.

 But then the slow burn, is that better?  Knowing where you stand, making adult plans… following them through.  Being honest, able to say “I like you, don’t know where it’s going to go but let’s give it a chance and find out”.

 Not this giving someone everything and then feeling yourself slowly become less and less as you wait, hoping they meant what they said.  Because I am not waiting anymore, I am okay with taking risk.  

 So when I meet someone I like, and they are willing to see where it goes with me then I will be in. It’s scary, but it’s exhilarating and it may just be what I need.

 Because like you, I am too full of life to be half loved.

So today is the day that I have been sort of dreading in a way.  It is the day that I wrote down and told myself would be the day I would enter the dating game again.  But it’s also something I am really struggling with because I am just not sure that I am ready for anyone else to touch me yet.  Not after what he did.

 The thing is though, I have been trying to let go of the things I feel, because I know that the longer I hold on to them the tighter their grip on me will become.  The more afraid I will be.  

I have to see the situation for what it was.  I was a mint chocolate milkshake in a world of creaming soda... he wanted a taste for the story.  And I was too naive to understand that sometimes what people say and what they mean are not the same.

He’s lost, I think.  But baby, I don’t think what you are looking for can be found between the legs of a thousand women who don’t know how to love you.  

 I was talking to a man I have known for a little while last night and he said he needed me to value myself more.  He told me that anyone would be lucky to have me in their life no matter the capacity and I thought about it a lot.  Maybe it isn’t about luck?  Because you could argue that I am lucky to have the people in my life that I have, but I don’t think it’s luck.  I think that there are souls we are meant to find, people we are destined to love and hold close.  Whether it be for a moment or a lifetime, we were all supposed to find each other.

 Maybe that’s the meaning of life.  To walk through however many days we are given looking for the souls we need to find to be whole and when we do we leave the earth ready for the next adventure. For some they embrace the parts of others souls for minutes or hours, and for others it takes 100 years to find all the missing pieces.

 I haven’t found all of mine yet, although I have given away many parts of myself to so many… I have also collected parts of others.  I have become a mass of experiences, scars, pain and triumph laced together with hopes and fears and care.  And you know what?  It is a masterpiece, and everyone who sees it will view it differently.  That is art.

 So for this week I will follow my heart, I will be brave.  I will not let the hurt of the past stain the potential of tomorrow. And I will remain open, kind and gentle. I will fight my battles fiercely, eloquently and with goodness.

 I just don’t think I’m ready for anyone else to touch me just yet.

 S x

I heard once that only a man with love on his hands is worth the time we have.  I wanted to argue with that, how I wanted someone who not only had love on his hands, but kindness on his fingertips, strength in his grasp… gentleness in the way his fingers moved.  But I realise now these are all merely components of love.  And yes, only a man with love on his hands is worth the time. 

I feel like I am climbing back onto my feet now.  It’s slippery and it’s treacherous and part of me wants to just be lazy… but then I would miss out on living all the beautiful things out here.  And that’s something I just cant miss.

 I am pretty open about most things.  If you ask me directly you are likely to receive a straight answer… draw your own conclusions and you are unlikely to have my time again. 

I thought I wanted distractions but ultimately I dont. I just want to feel this for a little bit longer until it’s all been felt and peace has been made. 

This morning I was sitting with some of my team catching up and shooting the breeze a bit and we were talking about body image… which led to changes… which in turn led to tummy tucks given my new shape… and I said well, if I have children I would rather have the tuck after but I don’t know if that’s going to happen.

 She said she sees me with children.

 Then she said it’s been put out into the universe and she thinks he is coming.  Soon, next month.

 I asked her, what about this boy that somehow has me doing things that aren’t me?

 No, she told me, it’s not him.  That it will all make sense soon and I wont see it coming.

 Sometimes people see things, other times they just want to make you feel things that you are struggling to feel on your own.

 The problem with me at the moment is that I am struggling NOT to feel things.  I thought I was so together, that I was untouchable because I had let go of my ego and found my peace.  But it turns out that sometimes things happen and your resolves are challenged and that’s okay.  Because I will always feel deeply and I will always give myself away with no thought of the consequences.  I am coming to accept that is a part of who I am and to deny it and to avoid it and try to snuff it out would be dishonest.

 And at the moment I don’t want to be at home, but I also don’t want to be around people.  I want to exercise and walk and run until I throw up, until it’s dark and I can have a shower and fall into bed and try and sleep and just hope my dreams are something different.  I often find that all of the things I am running from tend to find me when I close my eyes and sometimes they are beautiful.  But then I wake up and I have to try and force myself to remember what I was sad about when I fell into bed, what I was running away from so furiously yesterday that is causing my muscles to stiffen and ache when I try and move today.  

 Then I am dressed up and made up and out the door with a green smoothie and at work.  And I make people laugh, and I get things done and I am distracted and in control… so together… but the clock starts to tick down and I know I cant be there indefinitely.  So I go back to physically exhausting myself.  

 And I don’t want to eat, but I want to drink my fancy teas and smoothies and kombucha… water with cucumber and mint.  I like to play my music though and I like to dance and laugh at myself.  So I don’t think it’s that I am sad... but I am also having trouble letting my happiness lead me around like I usually do.  

 I am avoiding everything that I don’t think I have the capacity to successfully navigate.  Conversations that hurt, messages that might not be responded to… things I don’t want to hear.  I just avoid it.  No – I don’t want to open that app because I don’t want to see their name.  I don’t want to go onto that site because I might see something that will make me feel things I don’t want to feel.  And I have so many emails but I just don’t want to read them right now – because I don’t know what I am saying and I don’t have a lot to give anyone.  It’s not that I don’t want to give, I honestly do, I just need to replenish myself a little so I have something to give.  So if you are waiting on a response from me, please accept my sincerest apologies, I will be there soon x

 And now I just think maybe I am tired.  Maybe I am just looking for a way to refuel, and maybe I need to feel all of these things to conquer them.

 S x

  You Are Tired (I Think) – E.E Cummings

There are some things that I have come to accept.

 ·         I don’t always have control, and there are things that need to be gone through no matter how painful they may be.  

·         Distraction is good but what you are running from is patient, it will always be there when you return.

·         It’s not my job to convince someone of who I am.  All I can do is show them with unadulterated, sincere truth my heart and the rest is up to them.

·         I don’t need to “deserve” love.  Love is something that we should all be able to accept regardless of how badly we think we fuck up.

·         That I am going to get scared at times and that’s normal.  It’s okay to be scared – it’s not okay to run.  I am not a coward, I am a warrior.

 Maybe you get scared when someone see’s through the bullshit and it makes you vulnerable.  

 So I will say to you, sweet human, that I see you.

 And it’s funny you know? Because sometimes we think we see people, that we understand.  We get a feel for them and we believe that we know who they are.

 t I could feel the saddest fear in your bones. This whisper over and over telling me that you cant be hurt again.  

 I can feel the things you have done to try and feel whole again, or untouchable.  I’m not sure which.  But I can feel them on your skin and I need you to know it’s okay.  We all do what we need to in order to feel okay.

 You know sometimes good things happen, and they are things we feel we don’t deserve.  We question them because we think they must just all be some weird, cruel joke.  

 There comes a time that you need to just accept them.  Let yourself laugh and just let go... be happy.  

 Just know that there’s someone out here in this vast, beautiful world pulling their armor on a little tighter to go back out there on their own who once had absolute faith in you.

 Not the you that you think people need you to be.  Not the you that you think is unbreakable.  Just you.

 You’re going to be okay.  Just dont touch delicate things anymore if your hands aren’t strong enough to hold them.