WhimsyCure

Main reason, for you, that we cannot be friends. For you to heal, you need to deal with what you’ve done. You need to suffer with it for a while. Not as punishment, but to let the fire of it cleanse you. To have a season of repentance. Trying to be my friend only gives you a quick-fix. A direct route to try to quickly rid yourself of guilt. You broke something, and now you need to remain in a cast for a season while it heals. Don’t use that bone for a period of time. Maybe you are in a wheel chair or need crutches. It is uncomfortable, it hurts like hell, it has a funny smell, and everyone stares at you because they can see an obvious handicap. But when the day comes that you get to cut the cast off… you will feel so free. And you’ll be more careful next time.

Main reason, for me, that we cannot be friends. For me to heal, I need time away in a hospital. I need friends that I trust to see me in my condition to visit me there. I need 24 hour care. You broke a bone, but I suffered paralysis. I literally cannot move myself up off the floor. Everyone knows that your wounds will heal in time. Everyone is praying that my wounds will heal with a miracle. Understand the difference?

Tears still fall.

I just miss him. I miss him so much. I cried at lunch yesterday. I cried in the car ride home. I need to sleep for a week. I need to forget how much I loved him. I need new things to make me happy. But the memories of him, our time together, the several times we said “I love you” before falling asleep… My tears still fall. 

Hurting

I am just hurting. My stomach, my chest. My back, my legs. Tears are streaming from  my eyes right now. I want to be released. I want to be set free. And I cannot be. Love doesn’t just stop. Neither does the pain. Does stopping love cause the pain to go away, or does loving cause you to forget?

The truth.

I haven’t been sleeping very well. Yesterday, I was vomiting from 9 a.m. until about 2 p.m. I went to the doctor and got some anti-vomiting tablets, came home and rested. I slept for 13 hours last night. My immune system is weak from having bronchitis and from emotional stress. I always said my emotional pain often appears in physical form. 

What hurts today? I still want the truth. I don’t know if I will ever get it. I realize that there is some deeply rooted cause for why he had to lie. Some strange mental-emotional force that allowed him to live his delusions. What breaks my heart still is that I am such an understanding and compassionate person, I would have empathy for the true reality. I would also suffer much less pain. And he would suffer a lot of embarrassing pain at first, but would probably feel better about telling the whole truth as well. It is cleansing, it purifies our tongues and hearts.

If I could fix you, I would. But the freedom will come from you being able to fix yourself. It was never my love that was going to heal you. When you learn to love yourself, humbly appreciating the gift of life you have been given, then grace will flow in you (to yourself) and from you (to everyone else). I am telling myself every day that letting you go is the best way to show you how much I really loved you.

Bald

He admired the bird from far away. He wanted to get closer. To touch her beautiful coat of feathers. So he acted like birds do. Stood on one foot, flew through the air, sang little songs, acted scared when strangers came near. The bird let him closer and closer. She let him close enough to wrap his neck with hers. They used each other’s bodies for warmth when the sun went down. But the man could not help himself. He felt bad about it, but touching her feathers was no longer enough. He needed to have them. So while she slept, he would pluck one from her beautiful coat. One wasn’t enough for her to notice at first, but soon, there were lots of feathers missing. She got scared, she held onto him for comfort. If he was there, surely she wouldn’t lose her beautiful coat. One-by-one, the feathers were gone. Then one night, the bird could not truly sleep because of all her heartache and fear. She caught the man stealing one more feather that night. That feather being pulled felt like her very heart was pulled from her chest. She opened her wings and beat him in an instant! How dare he steal her beauty, her protection. How dare he betray her trust! Now, she sits high in a tree. Looking down on him, they both cry when the sun goes down and they do not have the other for warmth. She carries a bald spot as a painful reminder of betrayal. He carries her beautiful feathers. Funny thing is, they just keep getting heavier and heavier for him, but he cannot let them go.

What’s Wrong?!?

What’s wrong with me?!? I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. You tell me that you think my heart is so beautiful, and all I can see is the ugly that it contains. The flaws from every scar. The leftover pain, the leftover anger, the lack of forgiveness. I don’t know why! Some days, I look at them and I have more compassion and understanding than I’ve ever known. Other days, like today, I am so angry. I am angry about being called a bitch, a whore, fucking stupid, so fucking naive, an ignorant shit, fat and lazy, for being told that every honest thought that enters my mind and heart are wrong and for being shut out from affection when my opinions differed. I am hurt for being led astray, I’m hurt for not always being made a priority. There are things that I put away. Things that I stored away deep inside and ignored so that I could just keep going. Things that I kind of forgot about… But now; now when you tell me that I am beautiful, those forgotten ugly memories suddenly have a whole lot of light shed on them. 

How can I ask you to understand something that I don’t even fully understand? How can I ask you to go there with me? To go to that place of hurt and pain with me? Would it be wrong for me ask you to go there? I feel like it would. I wouldn’t want you to feel what I felt. BUT, there are these ugly residual things that remain. Where do I put them? Will they ever leave me? I just want to be able to tell you anything. I want you to hear all of my ugly and STILL tell me that I am beautiful. I’m not strong enough to maintain faith in myself all the time. I am giving you the best faith that I have and all the while I still doubt that what you see in me is the truth. Could it be real, that you really see ME… you SEE me; all of me, and what you see is BEAUTIFUL? That is my prayer tonight. 

Unsettled

It is hard to satisfy me. I don’t know why. I know how to enjoy peace, how to feel joy, and how to be pleased by my experiences, but… it is hard to stay right here in the present moment. My mind is always racing, thinking about the possibilities of future happiness and future pain. Maybe because of the pain from my past, I have an unsettled nature. I don’t want to plant my roots here because I know that this is not where I want my tree to grow.

The past several years, I just knew that I was in a season of transition. Internally, I wanted to plant my roots, but externally, the environment I have been in would not be the right kind of soil to allow this tree to stand tall, dig deep, and blossom. There was not much sunshine, not enough rain, not any other plants around that look like this particular species of tree. 

Last year was TOUGH. Of course anyone else watching my life would have thought that the hardest moments for me were when tears were streaming down my face, but those were not the hardest moments. The most difficult moments were when no tears would come. When my heart and spirit were silent and wanting. The silent hunger that could not be satisfied. Those moments scared me because it felt like I had become numb, and being numb is just as bad as being dead and cold.

I don’t know exactly what changed. One day, I just heard a still, small voice, and it asked, “Why are you grumbling?” I felt pretty ungrateful at that point. Why was I grumbling? I didn’t have any real reason to be lost inside of suffering. I was alive, and even though I wanted to feel more alive, it was not a legitimate excuse for not living as fully as I possibly could. 

Well, I am breathing now. I can feel the blood coursing through these veins. I can feel joy jumping around inside. Believing we are alone in whatever it is we are going through is a really selfish idea. We are never alone in our suffering. I hope we are never alone in our joy. I may be unsettled, but I am still standing.

Release Me

From the pain of this distance,

Release me, take me.

From the desire on my skin,

Release me, feel me.

From the suffering on my lips,

Release me, kiss me.

From the empty hunger, 

Release me, fill me. 

Release me.

Release me.

Hold me close.