Tiny Update

Nothing poetic or artistic or remotely pretty today, sorry.  Just the facts of life.
Well, I haven't been writing as frequently recently, so let me explain.
I participated in NaNoWriMo, which is an organization where you create, write, and finish an entirely original novel during the month of November.  So, November first, you put pen to paper or fingers to keys or whatever your medium is, and you write like crazy to finish a manuscript of 50,000 words or more.  So I did.  I wrote, edited, stressed over, and feel in love with a novel I created called The House of Halleck.  Luckily, by some miracle, I finished it and submitted it five days before the deadline (today). 
Naturally, I poured every ounce of creative juice I had, and some I didn't have, into the book.  Ergo, I ran out of juice when I typed the last word.  About the time I finished the manuscript, I got really sick and I'm still coughing up my lungs.  Fun right?  Not.  So, after pouring my blood, sweat, and tears and every last drop of dedication into my manuscript, and being on over five allergy medications, writing is a bit difficult at the moment.
Hopefully I'll dive back in soon, but for now, I'm just trying to regain my voice (literally and figuratively).

Free

I'm finally free.
I've grieved my loss.  The brokenness of our situation.  The terrible things you did.
I've accepted the change.  Taken it in stride and picked up the pieces.
The first time, you shattered me.  But honestly, this time, I think you helped put me back together. 
When there are no pieces left, when shards are smashed into dust, you can start fresh.
You don't have to make things go back together.  You don't have to cut your hands on the pieces.
And today, for the first time, I feel complete again.
I don't regret you, and I never will, but I don't have any desire to get you back.
Nothing inside me yearns for you anymore.
Nothing begs me to give it another chance.
I'm finally rid of your name, your image, your feelings.
I can finally put you down on the list of people that I used to know.
I can finally move on.
And nothing is going to slow me down again.
In the wake of heartbreak, I found myself.

Aura of Winter

Winter reaches out an icy finger and taps on the window, a spiral of frost forming where he touched the pane of glass.
Frigid air kisses bright green leaves into a poetic kind of brown, crunchy death.
Flakes of change dance upon the swirling, glacial, wind.
Hot cocoa, peppermints, pie and scarves and coats and hats fill the dinning room table.
Families gather round, give thanks, bow their heads in prayer.
A sense of community and cheer blends with the frosty air, creating a kind of joyous intoxication brought on by the simple act of breathing.
Things are glazed in sugar and sweetness and optimism and renewal.
The aura of winter is brilliant.
Awe-inspiring.
Breathtaking.
Beautiful.

Warring Sides

There are two sides to me, like to most things.
It is a daily struggle between what I want to feel and what I actually feel. 
I want to be confidant so I fight against my insecurities and self-doubt.
I want to be care free and fun so I fight against my anxiety and the constant knot in my stomach.
I want to be beautiful so I fight to see good qualities when I look in the mirror.
I want to be outgoing so I fight against the nausea that attacks me when someone comes up and says hi.

Some days, I win.  Some days I am confident and care free and beautiful and outgoing.  Some days Im the girl I've always dreamt of being.
But some days, my insides win out.  Some days I am so self conscious, that its hard to even be awake.  Sometimes Im so anxious I make myself physically sick.  Sometimes I cant help but withdraw into myself.

It's hard, to look in the mirror and not know which girl you're going to see.  Its a war that im constantly fighting and it gets in the way of many things.  I only pray that one day, I can win the war.

Empty, Numb and Hollow

Glasses on, covers close, pillows piled high,  my mind wanders to you.
Music blasts through my headphones, the anthem of our past ringing loudly in my ears.
It doesn't hurt this time, since I expected it.
I prayed, hoped, wished, it wouldn't be so, and yet it is.

The fire that used to burn trickles out, doused by realization.
Love turns to hurt, hurt into callous, and soon I feel nothing.
I could touch the flame and never feel the burn.

All my poetic words for you have vanished, gone like a snowflake on the tongue.
Lasting only a moment, sweet and fresh and magical before dissolving into nothing.
Your eyes no longer hold the stars, your name no longer my world.

I'm clean, washed of your traces, of your stain.
Freedom never tasted so dull.
It came with no epiphany, no strength, no power.
Just nothing.
Empty.  Numb.  Hollow.
Like the hole in my chest is no longer filled with you, but with cotton, dry and full of nothing.

The Ones That Didn't Get Away

I don't have a "one that got away". 
I don't have someone that I regret leaving, or someone I wish I could go back to. 
There is no one I'd take back in a heartbeat given the chance.  Quite honestly, I applaud myself on that.  I have no regrets.  I look at my past relationships as lessons learned, not as some big mistake I wish I could take back.

I have a trail of "I got away"s. 
People who were bad for me.  People who hurt me.  People who were great, but just didn't fit into my life the right way.  People I can look at now and tell you exactly what they taught me about relationships and what I want and life.

Someone once told me that dating was like cheating on your husband.  I literally laughed in their face.  That might work for some people, but not for me.  I'm a trial and error kind of girl.  I fall so hard so freakin fast that the first guy who asked me out would have to be my husband.  I am so unrealistically picky that there is no way I could know if I wanted to marry someone unless I dated them.
In my eyes, relationships are learning curves.  If I hadn't dated the people I have, I wouldn't know so much about myself.  I wouldn't know that I have a hang up on saying "I love you"  before you mean it.  I wouldn't know that I have to find someone who takes relationships slow.  I wouldn't know that talking about the future early on scares the crap out of me.  I wouldn't know you really can break up with someone and remain friends.  I wouldn't know that when you try and morph a friendship into a relationship before it's ready, it won't last.  I wouldn't know not to settle.

My relationships have taught me so much about myself and about the world that I don't regret a single one.  Not the ones that ended in an ugly, brutal fight or the ones that were a smooth, clean break. 

I Always Thought

I always thought being apart from him would be torture.  I thought I needed him in every area of everything.  I thought he was all I wanted.

Well, in a sense, I was right.  I did want him.  More than I wanted anything else before.

But separation has a funny way of giving you a whole new point of view.  I'm finally thinking straight.  I'm finally looking at the situation objectively instead of through tinted glass.

I don't need him.  In fact, he was probably the worst thing for me.  I have a habit of falling way too fast and expecting way too much.  He has a knack for saying the perfecting at the right time and showing up right when I need it.  But you have to be more than a knight in shining armor.  You have to stick around.  You cant just ride up and make me feel like a princess and then drop me back in the dirt to dust of my own dress.

When he was around, my mind way always consumed with him.  Even now, I'm having to cleanse my every thought of him.  He was distracting, overwhelming, too much for my crazy life to keep up with.  I have more important things to keep my focus on, for example, myself.  When he's around, all I want is to be whatever he wants.  I lose myself.  And in a perfect relationship you should find yourself, not completely lose it.

Impressed

I set out to prove you could be as much of a game to me as I am to you.
But sitting here, butterflies replaced with dust, I regret to inform you that I failed.
I take my feelings for you too seriously to make you a game.
It's a pity I can't just laugh it off, a failed experiment with lessons learned.
I thought I was strong, mysterious, care-free enough to be just like you.
To use and manipulate and play when I had the free time.
Apparently, I actually have a soul and a moral compass.
I cannot so blatantly disregard someone, the way that seems to come naturally to you.
I might have set out to prove it to myself, to the others around me, but I only proved them right.
They didn't believe in my from the start.
It's hard to triumph with no one in your corner.
Congratulations, on ruining me again, what a victory.
How extraordinary, your ability to break things. 
I'm impressed.

My Future

I think of you and I think forever.

 

I think watching the sunset on the beach.

 

I think wedding rings and engagement bands.

 

I think white dress and bouquets.

 

I think finding a house.

 

I think waking up together.

 

I think picking out curtains.

 

I think getting a pet.

 

I think growing old together.

 

I think rocking chairs on the front porch.

 

I think grandkids at Christmas.

 

I think of you, and I can't help but think of my future.

 

Because to me, you are my future. 

 

I want those milestones with you, and only you.

Remember

My greatest fear is that I'm insignificant.
That people might be able to move from my life and not remember me a month from now.
That I don't matter nearly enough to be significant to anyone.
So promise me you'll remember.
Remember my voice.
My smile.
My laugh.
Remember the times we spent in silence, simply enjoying the togetherness.
The shared secrets.
The inside jokes.
Remember the random facts I liked to tell.
The nicknames we used.
The words we overused.
Remember me, even if you start to forget, try.
Because you matter so desperately to me.
And I don't want to feel foolish for memorizing your every move.

Intensity Of Feeling

You are intoxicating, overwhelming, exhilarating.
I can't get you out of my head.
I'm constantly wondering where you are, who you're with, what's on your mind.
It's like someone wiped my memory and only left you.
I can't breathe when I think of you.
I feel like I might be sick from the sheer anxiety of thinking of you.
I am overcome with the desire for you to know how I feel.
I am overwhelmed with the desire for you to feel the same.
You are like a drug I didn't mean to take and am now addicted to.
I can feel you coursing through my veins, whispering in my head.
I cannot come up with a word to describe the enormity of my need for you.
The scope of my love for you.
You are all I've ever wanted. 
No one comes close to what you are.
Nothing can touch what you do to me.
You are not just someone, you are the only one.
The only one I see, the only one I want, the only one I need.
You'd think after four years I'd have forgotten your name like a distant memory.
But no, you are fresh on my mind.
Your name perched on my tongue, ready, as soon as an opportunity presents itself for me to speak it.
I can feel the phantom touch of your fingers on my face, a ghost of the last time I saw you.
I can hear you in my head, the words you said mixed with the ones I wished I'd heard.
Everything with you is intense, extreme, profound.
I cannot be mildly attracted to you, I am enamored with you.
You are the stars in my eyes, the blush on my cheeks, the stain of a smile on my lips.
You are my breathless moments and my wildest dreams.
You are everything I need and everything I want.
I cannot fathom feeling this way for another.
I can barely understand the way I feel for you.

On Paper

I am terrible at face to face communication.
I can't formulate a sentence correctly, im awkward, im uncomfortable.
I suppose that is why I find solace in the written word.  Words on paper are easier than words I have to manufacture and push out of my deft mouth. 
On paper, I can be anything I want, I'm not constrained by image or accent or age.  If I want to be a princess I can.  If I want to be strong I can.  If I want to be rebellious I can.  If I want to be snotty I can.  If I want to be glaringly honest I can.
On paper, I lose my inhibitions.  I write daring things I'd never dream to say out loud.  I can write the most gut wrenchingly honest pieces of my soul without the slightest bit of embarrassment.  I can write about the transgressions passed upon me by others and tear them apart without have to confront them.
On paper I don't have to worry about stuttering or mumbling or saying the wrong word.  I can plan and plot and erase.  On paper, I can be completely me, 100 percent.  I've written things on this blog that have never left my mouth.  I've written things on this blog that I would never LET leave my mouth.  Something about the written word demands honesty, it demands sacrifice.  And somehow, through all my cowardice, I am brave enough (or stupid enough depending on your perspective) to sacrifice my dignity, my secrecy, my civility for the demand of honesty.  And that makes me love this profession all the more.

Hurting. Mourning.

I pull my quilt closer as I gasp for air. Trying to quiet the sobs, I press my warm face into my pillows. I never knew the hole in my chest could ache this hard. It physically hurts. Tears blur everything as I mourn.

Mostly, I morn for her. She was a mother and a friend and a sister. Her loss was so unexpected that it still hits me a year later. I miss her every single day. Nights are worse. When my mind won't shut off and I replay memories of times before we lost her. I miss her more than I knew was possible.

I mourn for lost friendships as I need companionship dearly right now. Loneliness has etched a foothold in my heart and grows daily, fed by my isolation. It is now a massive shadow I cannot escape. Im scared it will be this way forever. I need someone. Anyone.

I mourn for him. For love I handed out too quickly to someone I didn't know. For the heart he broke and continues to dismantle to this day. He makes me so happy. So damn happy. But he tears me apart and I am in agony. I hurt so bad right now. The sobs wracking my body make my lungs scream for air. It isn't fair for me to love him this much with nothing in return. Without him I feel hollow. I feel empty. I feel tired. But when he's even the slightest option I am on fire. I am more alive in those moments than my whole life.

I mourn for the happy girl I used to be. The one with no cares and no troubles and no sorrow.

I am hurting. I am mourning.

What Comes With You

Closing my eyes, I see you there and I smile.  If this is the only time I get to see you, it's good enough for me.
You are perfection, taking my breath away with every moment in front of me.
You elicit a response from me like nothing else before.
Heartbeat frantic, breath quick, mind dizzy.
You make me do things I never knew I could, never knew I would.
I knew when I saw you for the first time, you would take me down.
No matter how strong I thought I was, you destroy me in the most tantalizing way.
I love the feeling I get with you.
Reckless, crazy, dazed.
I love who I am with you.
When we are on the line, I fight like I didn't know I could.
You bring out the troublemaker in the pacifist.
I'm dangerous with you, for you, because of you.
You change my chemistry, me entire being.
Loving you is rousing is an unnatural way and I want it.
I want the strangeness. I want everything that comes with you.

Drowning Never Felt So Good

It settled like dust over every inch of everything.  Traces lingering no matter how much you tried to clean.  It seemed to multiply behind your back.  You would turn around only to find infinitely more than there was before.

It clouded the air.  Made it hard to breathe.  Coated the walls so their color was lost.  Stuck to every inch of you body like wet sand.

It was overwhelming.  It was too much.  It was everywhere, in everything, everywhere you looked.

And then the dam broke.  Water rushed in and cleaned the whole place out.  Flood waters swept everything away, every trace, every hint of it was torn apart.  The rush was terrifying, dangerous, fatal.  But so restorative.  The water washed it from my lungs as I choked and from my mind as I fell into the blackness.

When I opened my eyes, I'd never seen a brighter place.  It was all gone, and with it's demise returned the color of life and the vibrancy of reality.  Drowning never felt so good.