Demons

I feel the need to write. Typically it is easier to write when I can listen to my music or have had some emotional influence that drives me.

There are times in life that make a  person reevaluate themselves. Sometimes it is  a breakup, other times it is the loss of a loved one, in my case, it was reviewing my past. Am I really sincere, or am I repeating a vicious cycle, year after year, day in and day out? The feelings seem so sincere. I feel as if I could easily say "I love you" and mean it with every inch of my being, not just mean I love "you", but that I am head over heels, completely in love. Am I lying to myself? Do I hesitate with relaying the message because I doubt my own sincerity or because I am afraid to be that vulnerable/be rejected. How many times previously have I sincerely felt this way? How many times have a taken a potential subject and written a beautiful story that implied I had felt I was in love but was only fictitiously spinning a fairy tale that didn't exist for the sake of my readers?
Am I really a fraud? Or is this real? I want this to be it, but maybe wanting something and it actually being are completely different things. He has seen me close to my worst. I have opened up more to him than anyone else. I am not sure he appreciates it and each time I kick myself a little harder for falling deeper into the rabbit hole. He also makes me feel like the best me I can could be. He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he helps me to see the colors of the world around me by just simply enjoying a piece of each of my days. I can only hope to repay what I receive by half. I want to give more than I receive, but I know that is highly unlikely to happen in this scenario. I have been broken for so long, it is nice to feel my broken pieces slowly coming back together. The thought of having a day when they are broken back apart because all that has brought them together is missing from my life and left me in more broken pieces than I was in the beginning is very scary to me. Yet I know it will happen. It happens almost daily. I feel the hole, the hole where my heart once was and the pressure on my chest and the feeling I can't breathe.....these are all small signs of what is to come later.
My walls have been broken down, I am open and vulnerable. I can't imagine putting those walls back in place nor do I wish to do so at this point. Yet there will come a time, likely sooner rather than later, where I will feel the pain and anguish that comes from letting someone not only that close to my deepest thoughts or my heart to allow them to break it, but into my soul, where they can make such a huge difference. I don't open my soul to many if I have ever let any into see all there is, good and bad, light and dark, anguish and contentment, sadness and happiness. I never want this to end. I want to say all these things, but fear scaring the person who has become such a vital part of my existence, which is a huge role to fill and can sound so scary. I also don't doubt that I ask more than should be expected, yet I try so hard to have no expectations. How is that possible?
How can a person want to be with someone so much and have no expectations? How can you look for the smile in each day in the small things they offer and have no expectations? How can you totally avoid any expectation of another or even yourself in these situations? Part of those expectations aren't focused on the other person but on yourself. I try to accept the situation as it is. I try to accept each person for who they are. I try to accept what I can get and not want or need any more, but sometimes, no matter how much I try, I forget. I forget to accept who they are and what they offer and I push. I push when I shouldn't. I am me, you are you, and so on. In life, we need to learn to accept one another for who they are, but too often we are stuck in our own heads dealing with our own demons and place them on the shoulders of those who are trying to accept us for who we are. Unfortunately, projecting our fears, anxieties, and demons on those who care often leads to driving them away.
My fear, love without reciprocation. Opening up, being raw, and stating those feelings, and being turned away because I am not good enough. Sometimes, it is much easier to keep quiet, or keep the walls firmly in place.  Sometimes, it is easier to ignore the thoughts, ignore the words in the back of my mind that try to come to the forefront of my mouth and keep them firmly in place where they can't be rejected by someone else. Sometimes, I would rather be alone by choice than to try to connect and be left alone due to rejection.

Raw

The night was dark and cool. She sat in the passenger seat watching the mist and rain drops gather on the windshield. As they became abundant, they would pool then with the help of gravity and the slant of the windshield they would wind their way down to toward the bottom of the windshield and the wipers. Outside the fog was starting to thicken slightly. He sat in the drivers seat beside her, quiet, too quiet. Unwillingly and unmalicious, she had lost his trust and hurt him in one fell swoop. It was a stupid careless misunderstanding, but she no longer cared to defend her position, she only wanted to make it right.
Small talk felt forced, and she was unsure what to say. He attempted to make it light hearted and began with small talk. She just wanted to touch him but was afraid of the reprecussions of what it would do or his rejection more that anything.
Finally, he told her could they be where it were possible,he would have her sitting right beside him. At this, she almost let the tears she had held in for days out, but instead she only let herself hope once again as she loosened up and adjusted in her seat to be more comfortable. He reached over and grabbed her arm, then held her hand. She leaned her chin down toward her other arm which sat between them on the center console. The conversation flowed a little freer, still focused on small talk and avoiding the topic at hand that had caused  them both pain.  She was dying inside knowing she had hurt him at all. It had never been her intent, his happiness was her only objective. She had adored who she became around him. She loved how she felt comfortable in her on skin, most days, but that night was the exception.
Eventually he leaned in and with a hand behind her head, he pulled her in as he kissed her, almost angrily on the mouth, as she went to kiss him back, he pulled back, stared at her and said "no." Again, he did it and again it was the same angry kiss, passionate, but angry, hurt, mad. She felt it in her bones and more so in her heart. She didn't dare kiss him back this time, until his kiss softened. As it softened, she felt again the pain but she felt agony, and she felt her own pain surface. Their kiss was one unlike any of the hundreds before it. There was something new to this. As they continued to kiss each other, there was  a real raw pain that could be felt with each. She felt a hunger in his body and it was matched in her own. She was hungry for his forgiveness and for his arms. She wanted to be held, caressed, coddled, and kissed as he was kissing her now, like she was his air and he had been without it for days, for that was how she felt about him. Every minute apart often felt like hours, hours felt like days, a day felt like a weeks, and she couldn't even imagine if they had to spend a week apart, how that would feel.
They moved closer, yet no matter how close, the distance was still too much. She slid into the back seat and he followed her. They laid, side by side, on the seat, he was almost over her, and he craddled the back of her head as he kissed her in such a way that each kiss left her breathless and yet needing the next in order to breath. She tried to convey with each kiss, the raw emotion she felt, how her heart was his along with her soul if he wanted it. She had known she loved him, and being back in his presences in solitude after the situation had confirmed that her heart was his. She had been in denial for a while but there was no point denying it now.
The rain continued on the windows outside, yet all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. All she could see was him and his eyes, those eyes that could make her heart skip a beat and her breath catch with a simple look. He didn't believe her about it anymore of course, but it was true. She could lose herself in his eyes.
His hands were warm and kind and gentle. He continued to cradle her and her head, to hold her close to him. The heat from his body was inviting and they fit together like puzzle pieces. Each touch, each kiss, each look, was full of raw emotion and open thoughts and a need for one another.
She still reflects back on the perfect night. She wonders if there will ever be a night like that in her future. She would give anything to go back to that point in time and be held like that, to be kissed with such raw passion, to be starred at through eyes that appeared to scream of love even if it was denied that was the intent.She knew her eyes were saying she loved him, and to this day, she would tell him, if it weren't for the knowledge that he would still reject that love. She will keep those secrets to herself and remember the details as if some long lost dream she was woken from too soon.

Moments

There are moments in time that are pivotal, that change you, that harden you, that open you, that break you down, that build you up, that change your whole way of thinking. Sometimes they happen in a classroom, or on a basketball court, in your childhood home, or in an empty parking lot late at night. Many of these moments you are later grateful for happening. Often times, while they are happening, they are painful and you aren't sure you can handle the pain they cause during the process. While occasionally they can be happy moments, often the ones that really shape you are the ones that caused the most pain. While it is sad to think that,  unfortunately, it is often the reality of it. The things that don't kill us make us stronger. However, while we grow stronger, we also have a tendency to grow more cynical and hardened. When we harden ourselves against the elements, we close ourselves off from the potential good around us. We close ourselves off from the possibility of love, of friends, of exploration, and new adventures. We close ourselves off from seeing the best in ourselves, because too often we see ourselves through the negative eyes of those who caused the pain. Pain is needed for growth. Love is needed to keep our humanity. Humility is needed to keep our kindness.
Those moments, when they happen, you have to decide how to move forward. Do you cut those people who caused it from your life, or do you turn the other cheek time and again to allow them  to continue the damage, and the growth process. When is enough enough? When do you finally call it what it is? A time to move on, a time to grow while leaving them behind. The time to make the decision is also dependent upon the situation. A lesson learned on the basketball court by a coach who is trying to teach you to be better and grow as a player can be painful for the strain on the muscles, or humiliating in front of teammates as the mistake is made apparent to all, but the player will show respect, apply the skill, and later thank the coach for all they do. A love who has damaged a heart, that is a lot harder. Often the damage is too irrepairable to appreciate the lesson learned and allow the forgiveness and show of respect, and often they walk away from each other rather than learn and grow in that love. A moment when one is left alone, crying on a darkened parking lot from the over abundance of stress, and there is no one there to lend a shoulder, teaches you, you truly are alone, it is only you against the world, there is no one else who will ever be there. In this case, the walls of solitude are strengthened, the heart is hardened a little more and the tears drown the humility and kindness and love on the inside until you are a cold shell of what you once were.
Unfortunately, the negative moments in life, the ones where you feel less than who you are, those are the moments that seem so much easier to trust in and believe than the good moments, the moments that try to tell you that you are loved, that you are good enough, that you are worth something.
Why is it that the bad things are so much easier to believe than the good? Why is it that negative attitudes are so much more infectious than a positive attitude? Why is people are more inclined to share a negative experience than a positive one? Why are people more likely to tear one another down rather than build each other up? Why can't we embrace and love each other as we are, rejoice in our differences, be happy for each others successes rather than be bitter and jealous for what we don't have?
I want to surround myself with people who don't have to watch my every move, who believe that I am an honest person. Who want to tell me the good things about myself not the negative. I want to be around people who understand I am a person who loves to build others up, who loves to celebrate in others small victories in life, whose heart bleeds when you are in pain. I love my friends, my family, and even my enemies. I want to be the person to turn the other cheek. But I also what to be the person who learns how to walk away from a toxic situation, not because I don't care, but because I am more important than the toxic situation. And because I am smart enough to learn I can't change that person and it will be easier to love from a far.
My heart is huge, and I feel way too much of what is going on in others around me.

Moments, they exist. They are real. They build us, they break us, they make us grow. Everyone needs a shoulder sometimes. Now is my time for a shoulder and I haven't one to lean on, to cry on, to hold me. I miss having shoulders to be there when I need them. I am not one to admit when I need a someone, and I am not only admitting, I am crying outloud, begging for someone, anyone, to be there, to be my shoulder, to be my person, and yet I am yelling in to an empty oasis, the yells and screams they echo and come back, bouncing back from the broken jagged darkness that surrounds me. My heart is bleeding, my eyes won't stop crying, my hands tremble, my knees are weakened, and my feet will no longer move one in front of the other, I need a crutch, I need a shoulder and I have only myself, and that pain, that pain, that realization, that is enough to put all my walls back in place, to harden my heart and keep everyone once again at arms length. I am tired, and I am weak, and I am don't want to keep going.

Help! Can anyone hear me out there? Help! Help me! (as I fall to my knees in sobs shaking my shoulders and my back curls around my knees - my sobs become silent as the tears stream down my face and my small ineffectual fists pound the soundless ground) I realize I am alone and the darkness weighs down on me. I don't want to open my eyes again. I want to go to sleep and remain there, my eyes to never see light again, for my heart and my body to not feel pain again. For my lungs to not burn with the cold winter air, nor my body to burn due to the over exposure to sunlight during the summer, I think I'd rather not feel these again. I think I would rather sleep the sleep of 100 years or more.

My sons arms around my neck as he hugs me goodnight or my sweet snuggle bug cuddling with me in the early morning hours, those are the very few things I'll miss, but are they enough?

Help!!! Help me!! Tell me I am not alone. Tell me I have a shoulder! Hold me tight like you plan to never let me go. Help!! (My sobs become even more inconsolable as I am still here alone.) Where has everyone who claims to love me disappeared? Where are those who claim to care? I need someone....anyone...HELP! the tears are enough to fill glasses, I can't catch my breath through the sobs. Why? Why am I alone? HELP!

These are the moments, these are the moments that shape who we are, that forge our future and dictate where we go. Moments, they are good and bad, they happen sometimes in the least likely places, but the moments, however small or large, however old or new, it only takes one small moment to change the course you are on. "two roads converged ...in a road.....and I took the one less traveled...."

written 11/9/15

Memories

There are some days in your life you never forget. You may never be able to remember the exact date of some, but the memory is forever imprinted, along with the feelings or lack there of when it happened.
Moments, when they happen make an impact, stay that way for far longer than the moment itself. Such moments or days include the first day of kindergarten, high school graduation, a first kiss, a last kiss, losing your virginity, moving into your first house, burying a loved one, getting married, birthing a child, scoring the winning touchdown, or the day you started a new job.
I will never remember the exact day that I walked through the doors of my elementary school. I had probably done it so many times before as my older brother was already a student. I will never forget getting caught by other classmates kissing a boy under the teachers desk in kindergarten. I will never forget getting sick during naptime of that same year. I will also never forget the taunts of my fellow classmates who seemed to enjoy nothing more than picking on me because I was smaller and I didn't dress like them.
I have a memory from my earliest childhood days of my dad's friend giving me a drink of his beer before I was able to walk. I remember vividly the day my baby sitter broke my arm. I remember trying to learn to feed myself again as I was right handed and she broke my right arm. I remember the ride home from the airport in the back of my uncles truck the day my dad sent me to live with my mom. I remember the day I almost watched my mom die before my eyes. Or the day we almost slid into a solid rock embankment on the way to court. I remember the day I met one of the gentlest souls I will ever know. I remember each of the meetings with the people who were to become my oldest and closest friends, especially those I met before I turned 20. I will always remember the day I landed my butt in the emergency room for dislocating my knee cap.
My list continues. On and on, the list goes. There are so many memories crowding my frail human brain, I often fret over losing them.
There are the memories I would long to forget, even if they made me who I am, the scars and pain would do nice to be forgotten.
Then there are the memories that leave not huge emotional impression other than a sigh of relief. Or times when I felt nothing and wonder to this day, have I ever truly dealt with the pain or the emotional backlash of it all. I remember the day I learned my grandfather had passed. As a grandpa's girl, I should have been distraught, but instead, I felt nothing. I felt nothing as we buried his ashes. I was slighly more emotional at the memorial service for my grandmother but I was also pregnant with my second child, and pregnancy hormones can cause odd effects. I remember being more upset when I almost lost him that same day being only 6 weeks pregnant.
There are other memories, that I wonder if in time I will feel the same way, yet now, I wish to never lose them. I wish to not forget the first time I saw you. I wish to not forget watching you without you knowing. I never wish to forget our first kiss, or the almost clumsy, nervous why you tried to hold my hand. I don't want to forget nights spent riding in the cab of your truck.
It amazes me as I look back on my life, I remember the bad things that happened and shaped me into who I am today. I remember being told often that I was fat, ugly, annoying, and so on. I am humble because of this. I am not beautiful on the outside, but I try to be on the inside. Why are kids so mean? Why does jealousy cause such hateful actions? I remember the scary memories of a protector causing pain, or almost seeing a loved one die, or almost dying myself. I remember the loss of loved ones from natural causes. I remember the loss of loved ones from tragic accidents. Yet, with all the sad memories, all the hurtful memories, all the "bad"memories, I remember more of the happy. I remember more of the memories that make me laugh. I remember the good in life. I do this so as to not be completely held down by the weight of the world. I am complex. I often feel less than adequate. I often feel as if I am just plain NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Too often, I was told such. I have to fight a battle with myself each day to put one foot in front of the other and hold my head up as I move through life. It is often hard, but at somepoint, it has to be worth it.
Maybe, just maybe, somehow, you make it worth it. I may not say it for fear. I hope I don't have to one day remember a good time with you. I hope that there are so many that I will not struggle, because each day will hold a good memory. I hope that there won't come a time when you are just a memory.
Do I remember our first kiss? Yes, I remember. And I doubt I shall ever forget. If I do, I hope you are there to remind me.

Night walks

The cool air met my skin as I jumped from my vehicle. I put in my earbuds, turned on my music, grabbed my water bottle, and began to walk. The early signs of fall had appeared and made for a good night to escape into my own head for a while. I enjoyed walking as it left me alone to move through thoughts and problems. The sky was dark above the tree line. The earlier sunset had been magnificent with the beginning color change of the leaves only intesifing it. The air was cool, but not cold, and much preferred to the heavy humidity that had been hanging around late evenings only a few weeks earlier. The path before me was dimly lit and the trees blocked parts of the sky. The moon was not full, but it was not new either, somewhere in the middle but larger than life casting enough light to illuminate the world around me. The stars were beautiful in the dark ink sky above my head. This was my escape.

The past few weeks had been a blur. The constant on the go schedule left little time for reflection which was probably best, all things considered. As I walked I waded through a mass onset of flashbacks images and remembered conversations. I tried to work my way back to the beginning, but exactly where was the beginning? There had been so much revelation and so much change in such a short period of time. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the cool air and the faint smell of autumn. The branches crunched under my shoes as I tread along the path. Much like my life path with my dreams on the ground, as people came and crushed them underfoot, I was crushing the acorns, branches, and the few fallen leaves that lay there.

My hopes had been high, and it was time to push them back where they belonged, unspoken. I was lost on my path in life. I needed to reevalutate where I had taken that wrong turn. When had I allowed myself to trust? I knew the world was a lonely place to exist. It was even lonelier when trying to live. I felt as if everywhere I turned, I was second guessing motives. Why did that guy hold the door for me? Why did I get a phone call from my dad? Why was my son behaving so well? What did they all want from me? The same happened at work as it did at home, or in public. Why was my supervisor not talking to me? Why was my coworker suddenly so nice? Why was the lady who was always short in attitude suddenly nice? Did I still have a career? Were they conspiring against me? Why did my husband who never spoke to me suddenly so concerned with what I was doing? Did he really think I had something to hide? Or was he hiding something from me? Was the world out for me and the happiness I had recently aquired? Or was I so insignificant that I just really didn't matter to the universe or the cosmic powers?

The little moments made me happy. I needed to focus on the small pictures and hope it would paint a bigger pictures. I was steadily climbing the trail at this point. The temperature had dropped slightly and the air made my skin tingle. The burning of the cool air in my lungs and the pushing of my muscles, all made me feel alive. It was like the first time I jumped into his truck. I felt alive. I can so easily call to my mind his smile and his eyes. I can remember the softness of his lips on mine as if we just kissed. I breathe deeply and try to shake the image from mind. The flashbacks were coming too fast and almost too much to handle. Spaghetti and waffles I think to myself as I push forward. I need to compartmentalize my thoughts. I have to separate out my thoughts; home, work, kids, husband, sports, fun; each had it's own compartment. If I would take the time to break them down, I know I would find it easier to handle each challenge and move forward with solid decisions.

I have almost reached the end of the path before I begin my travel back to my vehicle. I was still so lost in thought and trying so hard to organize them. I can't stop thinking of how much I would love to be sitting in the front seat of that truck, riding around the dark roads at night, simply talking about anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time. There was an ease of sitting beside him on the seat that I didn't feel the need to have my guard in place or the need for constant analysis of every word, action, or turn. Whn I was around him, I felt a peace, a calmness, I hadn't felt in a very long time. I also had this strange comfort that I often regretted later as I would open up more than I had in a long time. As I made the last corner on the trail before beginning the trek back to the parking area, I sat on a large boulder, leaned back, and looked up at the trees and stars above my head. I watched the twinkling of the tiny balls of gas in space millions of miles away, many of which were likely no longer still alive. My life suddenly felt so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Why was I important? What was the legacy I was leaving behind when I was gone? Had I done anything worthwhile? The self doubt flared again, and I wondered how much of what I felt while riding in the back roads had been imagined and how much had been real. I had thought on face value it was all real, but in moments of doubt, I worry it was all on me and my hope for more, my need to feel important when maybe it was all nothing more than a game that I was unaware I was playing. The constant fight in my head between wanting to see and believe the best in people and knowing that everyone was in it for themselves made it hard to konw if I could believe in someone else or should I realize there self gain plan waiting at the outcome of it all. It was during this arguement with myself while trying to file it all into neat compartments while looking at the sky that a meteor streaked a beautiful blue green across the night sky, and my wish, my first wish, was for him. At that moment, a tear escaped my eye, as I knew I was on the losing end, but I didn't care, bring on the next chapter.

I rose to my feet and began the return walk. I kept careful watch on the ground and the sky above in alternating rhythms. My life had just been made more complicated and yet more simple in less than 5 seconds as I had made the wish. The fall would come, and I would be more bruised and broken, made harder by the glue that put the pieces back together eventually, but in the mean time, the climb to the top and even the process of falling were to beautiful to miss. It is the small moments that made more beautiful by those that enjoy them with me, that make life the wonderful rollercoaster ride to not be missed. The dips, the turns, the drops, the climbs; the butterflies, the feeling of flying, the heart in the throat, the pit in the stomach, these were the feeling of being alive and they help me get through each day.

I arrived back at the vehicle. I unlocked it, opened the door and slide in the drivers seat. I placed my water bottle in the cup holder, turned off the music, pulled out my ear buds. I put everything back in the center console where it went neatly. I placed the key in the ignition, turned, and the motor came to life. I locked the door, and leaned forward on the steering wheel to take another look at the night sky above me. The stars shone, the moon was large, and another meteor fell, much the way I was falling; soaring one moment, crashing and burning the next; but the soar was worth the crash.

Blank Screen

She was sitting at the keyboard, yet again, staring at the cursor blinking. She had so much to say yet she could find no where to start. She closed her eyes and sighed as images flashed vividly behind her closed lids. Yes, there was much to be externalized, and not enough hours in the day to get it all out on paper.

Her insecurities bubbled to the surface everytime she started the sentence. She couldn't quite figure out where to start. The past few months had been a blur and she couldn't quite focus her energy where she needed it. She kept skipping around in her mind and the screen remained blank. Did she start with the first impression? Did she start with their first conversation? Did she start with reaching a point where he was the last thing on her mind at night and the first thing to cross her mind in the morning?

He made her completely comfortable and yet completely uncomfortable with herself. She was in a new league, more like in over her head, and she was confused. It was so easy to talk to him. Typically she looked away from people who looked her straight in the eye, played the part of I'm looking at you too, without ever actually having to do so. However, she couldn't quit looking him in the eye. It made her uncomfortable, sent to flight the butterflies, and yet, it felt like home. He could often ask her anything and she would answer without hestiation. He felt she held back, but comparatively, she let him know far more than he would ever realize.

She tried not to watch him, but something about him always made her hyperaware of where he was. It disturbed her, and she tried to distract herself when he was around so she wouldn't notice the small things, but it never helped. Almost like a presense, his was somehow tied to hers. She could almost feel him enter a room,  before seeing him, which was beyond uncomfortable for her.

They had remained on either side of the table, never too close, never too far, but always refraining from crossing each others space. At first, she thought he was irritated by her in general. Yet, the more time they spent around each other, the easier it became to push the boundary. She knew once the line was crossed it would be hell to draw it again.

She chewed on her bottom lip and tapped the pencil in her hand. As she stared at he screen comtemplating what to type, the tap - tap - tap of the pencil helped her to concentrate on where to begin. Should she type the reality which was boring and dull and full of electricity? Or, should she type her dreams, her fantasies, which were full of excitement, full of lust, full of secret meetings, and sideways stares and just as charged with electricity? She was so lost in thought, she hadn't heard the door open or even close again. It was not until the warm furry body rubbed against her ankle dangling from the chair that she jumped out of her seat and almost out of her body, that she realized how lost she had been in the images and possibiliy of him.

She reached down, picked up Rum, and set him in her lap while she stared forward at the screen. She continued to watch the cursor blink as she scratched Rum absently behind the ears. She pet him down the full length of his body, then picked him up from her lap and set him down on the floor. She continued to rub him with her foot while mindlessly tapping with the pencil.

Her fantasies flashed before her eyes. He had her on the desk and was kissing her slowly. His hands on her face, in her hair, and down her back. He would pull her close, then lean her back to stare at her a moment before kissing her lips again. In another, he had walked in behind her and suddenly she felt his body behind hers, his lips at her ear, and his arms encircling her. The images sent a rush of heat through her body and crimson to her cheeks. Her skin was tingling and the butterflies had taken to flight in her stomach again. She marveled at how just imagining him could have such an effect on her. She pondered what it would be like to actually cross that line, to have him hold her in his arms,  to feel his lips on hers, to feel his full body next to hers, what effect would that have on her. She wondered would she ever be free of the images once the line was crossed.

Again she stared at the blank screen before her. She knew she had work to complete, but the block was so etched, she couldn't break through. She picked up her phone, her keys, grabbed a light jacket, gave Rum another quick scratch, and left the apartment for a walk to clear her head. Maybe the fresh night air would allow her a break from the images that refused to leave her mind and continued to consume her thoughts.

Drive

The drive home was peaceful. It was dark and no other cars existed on the two lane curvy road. The fog was light, from the rain earlier in the day, and the moon was half.  There seemed to be a fair amount of stars but the missing of some lead to the belief there was cloud cover. The radio blared and she drove faster than needed, but she was too lost in thought to focus on all things driving at the same time.
His lips were soft and his kiss always tasted of mint. Often, she wanted to tell him to spit out the gum, but the sweetness was welcome. She couldn't get the taste of him out of her mind. As she drove, she remembered the feel of his lips on hers. She felt his torso between her thighs. She could recall the look in his eyes. All of this sent butterflies to flight in her stomach.
As the vivid image of his hand between her legs flashed before her eyes, she instantly went wet again. She wanted every inch of him. She wanted to touch every part of his body, to drink it in with her eyes, to lay beside him and feel his warmth. She wasn't excited about a few quick stolen moments, she wanted to know all of him, and that scared her more than she was willing to admit. She had already allowed him deeper into her than she let most people, and that left her open and vulnerable. She wanted to close the door and run away before he could get any closer or delve any deeper into her closed exterior. She didn't have the strength yet to leave.
The road continued before her and she was ready to be home. The bag in the passenger seat contained concoctions enough to help her numb her senses. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to be numb. She wanted to forget about the look he had when their eyes locked. She wanted to forget about the feel of his hands on her thighs. She wanted to forget about his soft lips on hers and the feel of his tongue in her mouth. She wanted to forget it all and just be numb.
Too soon the drive ended as she pulled into the garage. She quickly exited the vehicle, walked around and removed the bag along with her personal belongings and made her way into the kitchen. She set the bag down on the counter. She grabbed a cold one as she placed the rest in the fridge, and popped the top. Much too soon the contents were gone and she poured herself a mixed drink. As she swallowed deeply, she thought to herself, she would feel this tomorrow.
She sank into the recliner as her phone buzzed notifying her of a message. Her heart skipped, but as she looked at it, it was from a friend. She had hoped it was him,but knew better. She responded to the message and sent out a few others to see if she could catch a few bites. She had been so wrapped up in work lately, she had completely abandoned her social life. She felt sure the welcome distraction of old friends was needed to help replace some of the time she currently monopolized on him. About that time, the cat came from his normal corner and wrapped himself around her legs. She reached down to pet him and he climbed into her lap. She answered a few more text messages, finished her drink, then went to the bedroom to shower. As she undressed, she allowed herself once more to think back to memories of the two of them together. It bothered her she couldn't seem to get him out of her head. It bothered her more that her body screamed at the memories as if they were happening, and to know he had that type of physical power over her. She stepped into the water and felt it wash over her. She closed her eyes as she allowed the water to wash over her face and again she felt the stir of the butterflies as the look in his eyes, and softness of his lips came to memory again. She quickly turned and opened her eyes, as to concentrate more on the task at hand. As she washed her body, she felt his hand in place of her own, and the shivers ran through her. She finished quickly and turned the water off before stepping out to wrap a robe around herself. She worked on drying off her body and applying lotion. She dressed and went back to the kitchen to make another drink. On her way back to the bedroom, she picked up her phone. She climbed in bed, set down her drink, turned on the television, and looked at her phone when her heart skipped and her breath caugh. He had messaged. She took a drink before settling in to decide what to do next.

Freestyle - March 24 2005

May 24, 2005

freestyle

Current mood:thoughtful

I walked outside Sunday night. I was going to town to return movies that were due back Saturday. It was a beautiful spring night and would have been dark if not for the luminous glow of the full moon, which instantly caught my attention. A full moon, contributor to people acting at odds with themselves. More so than just the beauty of the moon being full, I noticed that it had a ring around it. Usually a sign of trouble. I began to think, "what could the trouble be this time?" 

The last time I had seen a ring around the full moon had been the night of the first time Chris and I had gone out. It was a wonderful night, an unforgettable night. It was a hot summer night, I was dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sneakers, he in a pair of jeans, boots and a t with no sleeves. We drove for hours that night. It was wonderful. Hell, we even stopped by my moms house at midnight that night. That was the night we were suppose to go swimming but he chickened out, no more than 5 feet from the water. I still laugh thinking back, oh, we had wonderful times together. But the start of our relationship was the marked by the omen of that moon the first time we went out. It was happy and wonderful, but nothing but trouble.

My relationship was Chris was so unlike my last, well, whatever one might call it. This last one was nothing more than loneliness. Trying to move on from someone who had made me so happy, I stumbled upon someone who brought not much more than misery. I was used, but at the same time, it was karma, for I was doing nothing more than using him. I am still nursing some wounds from that one, but the healing is definitely moving forward. I finally received closure from it, and I am moving on. The pain has disappeared, it is little more than an odd numbing sensation.
I question the ideas some people have. As a mother, I want nothing short of the best for my children, and granted, I might not have a lot of money at current. Hell, lets be honest, I am living at poverty level. I am a single mother of 2 wonderful boys, a full time college student, but I do work. In less then two years, I will have my bachelors degree in accounting with more than 2 years experience. I will be living above the norm. Social status is about money, but it's also about the way a person thinks, their actions, and what they are doing to better themselves. I grew up poor, white trash many would say, but I have always held my head high, and lived my life better than that. I am not a trashy person. I have standards, and often get criticized for my champagne taste on beer budget. But, as a mother, I would most definitely expect my boys to chose someone of such integrity, instead of trying to set them up with someone who the mentality of white trash.

I am beginning to ramble. I am more or less just venting. I am happy today. Happier than I have been in a five months. I miss Chris, but there will be others down the line who will treat me just as well, if not better. What I miss the most about him, I could act like I was 15 again, and never get criticized for it, he stood beside me doing the same thing. He made me laugh and never made me feel less than what I was. Everyone should be so lucky.

Light and Dark

I have come to the conclusion that some people are born in the light. The live their life in the sun with the warmth on their skin, a smile on their face, and love around them. These people often don't realize just how blessed they truly are, but somehow they are always humble of their good fortune. These people often try to share with everyone around them the happiness, joy, and general light in their life. Most of these people do not try to cause harm to others nor do they enjoy seeing others hurt. They live their lives in a bubble not knowing there is a much harder, crueler reality around them. These are the people for which I try to keep a smile on my face.
I am not one of these people. I am not trying to say I live in the dark, perhaps I live in-between the light and dark. I think, if I am truly comparing light and dark, the dark would be those who live in misery and pain, who seek to destroy those around them. They do this to try to keep themselves from hurting. They feel that if they tear down someone else, they won't feel so alone and hurt, lost to the sun, they live in the night.
I like to think I live in the shadows and occasionally flit through the land of light. I am not angry or aggressive to those who have such "light" lived. Someone needs to be happy for them, to understand for them that the life they lead is very blessed and not had by all. I am very happy for these people. These people of "light" give me hope that one day, maybe, just maybe, I can leave the shadows behind and live in light and love and happiness.
I do not live in aggression but I live in pain. I live in the pain of not knowing a love beyond my children's. I live in pain of often trying to give my heart and receiving nothing back, or worse, having it returned with no intent of ever treating me "right." I live in pain of the love I wanted and never had, from a small child, the love my parents could not or would not provide. I live in pain of my experiences which would have sunk a might lighter happier person than I. Instead, I learned to swim instead of drown in my sorrows. I live in pain and therefore, I live in the shadows. One day, maybe, or maybe not, I will have someone hold me, and claim to love me, ME, only they won't claim, they actually will. They will hold my heart close and know it has been damaged, and it is fragile, and they will heal it with the perfection they are. This faith, however fairy tale it maybe, is what keeps me and my history and my broken battered self from turning to the dark instead of standing at the edge of the shadows.
One day when I realize no matter what, it will never exist for me, I will shed a tear, I will square my shoulders and I will walk willingly to the dark and wilt away until I am gone. I am not built for the dark, but I can not live in the light without love.