concrete happiness

Learning. Learning about yourself. It is a strange feeling, but finally understanding where you are and what you are feeling means you can finally have some sort of control over your own life. What a concept right? I have a million thoughts running through my mind, a million feelings. I can’t manage to verbalize any of them, but I understand them perfectly. I know I have said I have found happiness before, but this is a weird content happiness that finally feels like mine. It feels like I can grasp it and hold it and keep it. It doesn’t feel fleeting, like it is forming visually and metastasizing. It feels so real and so good. Have you ever felt like you were always reaching for something and couldn’t quite grasp it. It kept slipping through your fingers and you began to doubt it is real? My happiness. But it has solidified in my hands and I can feel the glorious weight of it. I want this to last forever. I keep going back and forth between being okay and falling to pieces. nothing feels solid and I am sure this is no exception, but I just want to hold onto it as long as possible. It is the kind of happiness that warms you like the first false spring in March. When you feel that warm sun and you skin absorbing all of the goodness in the air. You can smile for the first time in what feels like months. That is exactly what this happiness feels like and I want to keep it forever.

It Returns

I begun to notice the familiar feeling of numbness once again. I know it is numbness because I have begun to desire so much pain. I asked myself why I couldn’t desire love or happiness in order to feel something, but unfortunately, I know all to well that the threshold between happy and numb is far less define than that between numb and pain. Take your words and drive them through my heart like a dagger. I want to feel everything. I went to him and my body responded to nothing. I was indifferent to his presence. My heart yearns or its own torture. Its turning into grey matter and I don’t think my body can live off of the limited blood supply it is managing to pump. My empty chest is begging to be drowned in demons before they begin to claw at my skin again. Destroy me and leave me dead on the cold, hard pavement so I can rebuild myself and create a newness the can grow and flourish in this life.

Whole

I don’t really know who I am anymore. I searched for myself for years and I thought I finally figured it out but recently I’ve been changing and trying to change. The weirdest part is that it isn’t in a bad way. It’s almost like I have become so comfortable in who I am that I can change who I am without losing myself. I don’t love him and I don’t want to but I am hold him there just incase. I don’t want love. I want someone to be around but I want to be able to walk away from it. I don’t want love. It is a strange feeling not to be craving love from other people. I don’t have holes in my heart. There is no black pain oozing from my wounds. Is this what it is like to feel whole? I’m not running anymore. I don’t need to justify myself to anyone. Sometimes the exhaustion washes over me and in an instant I am transported backwards in my life but somehow I keep moving forward. I find the light on my own, I pick myself up, I brush myself off, and I move forward because I don’t go backwards. So, I found myself, but I keep finding myself and I find that I am capable of controlling who I want to be and I think I am ready to look for a reason to walk away and I am ready to give myself a reason to walk away. I am smart. I am good. I am powerful. I am strong.

Trouble Moving On

I saw your name in my phone. A voicemail from weeks ago that I never deleted. For a moment I stopped breathing. It felt like nothing had changed. It felt natural to see your name there. I pressed play. You said it was the first time you’d heard my voicemail. You called me adorable and I smiled probably just like I did when I heard it the first time. You said you missed me and I really didn’t realize how much I loved hearing you say that until you stopped saying it. I hit points where I finally think I am over it, when I think I can move on, but then I see an old picture, and old text, and old voicemail and all of the emotions come spiraling back. I thought it was alright. At home it was so easy but I have been here a total of two days and you are all I think about. I know why I walked away. I know it was a good thing but I didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be coming back. Maryland is so lonely without you. I miss you. I miss your text messages. I miss your home, your bed. I miss your arms around me. I miss your voice. I miss you. My Maryland became you. How do I create a new one? I find myself picking up my phone to text you all the time. I find myself wishing you would text me. Wishing you would try one more time. But maybe that is why I should move on. Your idea of asking for a second chance was a text message. Why should I regret saying no to that? I guess it really doesn’t matter if I should or shouldn’t because I do.

Pretend

I’m in this body. Clearly in this body but somehow, I’m looking at it from the outside. I have this happiness inside me blooming like sunflowers, but it doesn’t feel like mine. It doesn’t feel like my happiness. I could venture to say that I feel someone about to pull the flower from my ground but I don’t even feel like it was mine to begin with. Who distributes the seeds? Did one accidentally get sprinkled onto my ground watered with my tears? Did I accidentally get someone else’s happiness? I can’t even say that I feel like I am leading separate lives anymore. Before, it felt like I was a different person in every different place I was. Now, I am grounded. I am stuck in this spot to watch my body wreak havoc on my world. Even when I say that I question it, because sometimes I actually think the chaos it creates is for the better and may help me wade through my dark waters. Of course, there is no stopping me from drowning at night. I walk straight into this depraved sea. I close my eyes and I can imagine that I am not surrounded by violent waters but wading through a field of sunflowers being persuaded by the winds. Replace the silent screaming with the sweet songs from the birds. Deny the ocean floor and believe I am lying comfortable in the soft grass and earth of the field. Refuse the water in my lungs to be anything other than fresh air. I can pretend. Pretend until my body convulses from asphyxiation and I am hurled back into reality. It happens over and over again and I will continue to pretend I am not succumbing to my darkness until I am dead in the ground. Whatever I keep coming back for will fade away and I will be left hollow and without a purpose. When that day comes I will accept happiness as my own as I lay abandoned in my grave.

Your Baggage

You were the friend I thought my children were going to call aunt. The one that made me believe soul mates weren’t always romantic. The one I was so sure knew far to much about me to ever let go, but I guess there is always a time to let go. For as long as I have known you I have watched out for you. I have loved you like a little sister and spared my own feelings to comfort and take care of you. I felt like you were my responsibility. That everything you felt was my job enhance or detract. Any pain you ever felt I did my best to take away. All I ever wanted was to take it all away. Similar to the law of conservation of mass…I have a similar theory. That pain cannot be created or destroyed. It is simply transfered from hosts. You see, when I took your pain away there was no where to put it. The only option was to bear the weight of it myself. The problem is, you began to offload your problems onto me. I became the place you unloaded your baggage and then walked away. You left me when I needed you. I did everything I could and when I needed you and I told you I needed you, you couldn’t have cared less. I broke. You broke me. funny thing is, I thought that would make me stronger. Allow me to walk away and not get caught back in the trap of someone requiring me to be the host for their pain, but it didn’t. I am not as willing anymore, but moments later I will give and offer my hands to take the worry. I want nothing more than to remove this burden from myself, but I would rather be crawling under the weight than to give any of it to someone else. I would rather see you happy than to worry about my own happiness. I’m afraid that will never change but I am willing to try and make it. You aren’t the only one who has used me like this but you are the beginning of the end. It’s time you take back your baggage and carry it yourself because if you leave, you aren’t leaving it with me anymore. And honey, you already turned your back, now its just time to walk away. This time you can keep the knife out of my back.

Releasing myself from the ones I felt bound to

Where do you draw the line? When everyone keeps taking from you, when do you make it stop? When do you decide enough is enough? I have become a life guard, there to help people who are drowning. Recently, I have noticed all those I try to help are flailing too much and are pushing me under the tide in order for them to rise up. Of course, it isn’t purposeful, but it doesn’t dismiss the fact that is happening. As they catch their breath, my lungs fill with water. I’ve learned to swim, and I am pretty damn good at it, so why am I drowning? I have given people pieces of my foundation in order for them to build up their stability. I learned to build my home, quite strong, so why is it crumbling? I realized, I was giving away pieces of myself hoping that if I gave enough away I would disappear. Turns out, you don’t disappear. You just become used and exhausted. That’s right. They used me. I wasn’t being generous, they were being selfish. I made excuses for people because I believed all they needed was a little help and I thought I could be that help. But they didn’t want help, they wanted someone to hold them above the water. And I realized the more exhausted I became that I was spending my strength to spare someone else’s heart ache. I was carrying their baggage on my back on top of my own and I apologized every time it slipped. Can you imagine? Apologizing when you were already carrying their load. I built myself up and I chose not to be the victim of my life but the hero of my own story. It’s time for everyone else to do the same. My whole body is shaking. Anger is seeping through my skin. Anger for all of the people who have used me and then blamed me for their short comings. Anger for the people I supported but smothered me in their own disappointment when I wasn’t looking.  I cannot keep hurting myself for people who want to soak in the stench of the parts of life that didn’t work for them. And I WILL NOT be angry anymore. I have had enough anger and I refuse to hold it any longer. I don’t have room in my heart for it. My heart will forever overflow with love but I will not distribute it to the people who throw it in the backseat leaving myself with nothing. My love does not come with conditions but there is no warranty. When you break it, it is gone. But when you accept it, it can grow flowers. I would know. I can see it in myself sometimes. I used to think it was others planting them.  The ones I thought loved me as much as I loved them, but it wasn’t. It was me all along. Of course they died quickly because I wouldn’t water them. I’ve never been good at keeping plants alive. I never could agree with someone when they said that you can’t love someone else until you love yourself. I always believed that was a lie and I still believe it is partially a lie because I haven’t loved myself in a very long time but I have so much love to offer. So I gave it to others. While giving away so much of my love, even to those who didn’t deserve it, I learned to love parts of myself. The happiest parts, the most selfless parts, the most open parts, the parts that saw the best in people when everyone else refused to. That has gotten me hurt quite a few times, but it is the part of me I love the most because if no one else can see beyond the flaws to the most beautiful parts of someone, at least I could and hopefully I helped others see it too. Wanting to fix people. such a problem. A large reason behind of the aforementioned. Something I should to learn to do more sparingly, but for some reason I really don’t want to. My empathy makes me, me and if it is the part I love most about me, even if it hurts so, I cannot change it. It’s the only part of me where I can keep the flowers alive. Taking care of yourself is important and there are so many different ways to water your plants. My way might hurt sometimes, but its filled with love and will never again be overshadowed with anger.

Void

She is stuck. I cannot tell you where she is because I cannot find her. She is lost in the void between here and her mind. Drifting slowly almost to avoid the end of the vast emptiness. The ability to avoid all the feeling. She is no longer here. Her body is an empty capsule carrying around her demons she left behind. The bruises left from her past. The pieces of her past she wished to no longer carry. Any sense of feeling she had left was abandoned in that vessel. You may ask how one can choose to feel nothing but if you knew what she felt you would choose to be numb as well. She has been tossed to the outer most depths of the world just to be reeled back in by empty promises of comfort and happiness. She has been stripped of trust and vulnerability. She has built her wall only to abandon it when it proves to be useless. She is done searching for something to fill the void within her that seems to swallow everything in its wake…including herself. She succumbs to the emptiness and gives herself to the darkness within allowing her mind to slip away. She is missing. She does not want to be found.

And even though it is over, every word of this is still the true.

If I leave, if we stop this, if all of this ends, I’m not coming back. I can’t say goodbye a hundred times a come back after every one. My mind is spiraling with all of the possibilities but I have yet to arrive at a solution. I come from a place of not knowing what the hell I’m doing but I need you to tell me that we won’t just let this go because, to be honest, its easier to breathe when you’re around. It’s easier to see and it’s easier to smile. You said you love my smile, don’t let it fade. I’m begging you. I have already left once. I lost everything. I have found so much more but I lost so much and I will never not think about that because when I think about leaving here, It feels like I’m leaving home all over again.

Reparation

I prepared myself for the end so many times, but it still hurt just as much when it came. Though, I don’t think it is the end that hurt. It is the thought that you are okay without me. So much of me believed that we were only together because you wanted someone and quite honestly it didn’t matter who that someone was. I was just convenient. I prayed day in and day out that I was wrong, that you could still look at me the way you did when we started to fall. I guess you proved me wrong. Your words stabbed me straight through my stomach and I felt it through my whole body. I keep letting myself think that these people are planting flowers in me but it is just me planting flowers in my eyes, looking through rose colored glasses, praying that the petals won’t drift away. Fortunately enough, I think you poisoned them. I loved you but you couldn’t love me enough for real words. I crave the closure that can only come from your mouth but I realize day after day that I will never get it. I don’t know how to get past this. I can easily say I hate you, better yet, say I don’t care about you anymore. The truth is, when I look through my pictures of you, when I look through our old texts, I remember why I fell in love and how deeply I still am stuck in it. Like a sticky substance covering the floor before the exit, I get stuck every time. The same question runs trough my head persistently through the day. Why could I not be enough? Why am I never enough?