Life's Sound Track

 Run it again...

Dewberry

3 am

I find myself coming awake in stages. Aware that I should be asleep but a persistent nagging feeling that something is off. My conscience mind trying to remember what mattered enough to wake me, what dream I was having that caused me to wake. And then I remember it's over. And then I start to cry.

I have cried consistently every night since that morning. At 3am. Clockwork. My circadian rhythm waking me to grieve you. There is no shame in my tears. Just a pragmatic leaking of pain. Sadness is a function of loss. All you can really do is sit with sad and hold it's hand and wait. As blood eventually clots tears eventually stop.   

I don't know what I thought was going to happen. I did not think that you would choose to walk away. Maybe because I thought you cared more than that. Maybe because no one ever has. I dreamt it before it happened. In my dream you text me to tell me that you didn't want to just be friends. As I was calling you to ask you what you wanted, because I was willing to give you the world, I woke up. In my wakefulness you said goodbye. 

It hurts. One part of me is really proud of you for being willing to pick a side. For not putting up with nonsense. For holding me accountable. 

Another part of me is really disappointed in you for being a quitter. For not seeing your part in the whole thing. For treating me like a game. For not apologizing. 

I went by your job on Monday, in fact. I discovered that you had the holiday off. It occurred to me that if you wanted to spend time with me you could have done so any time that weekend. And swiftly behind that realization was the idea that you didn't like me the way that I liked you. I was to you a pleasant distraction, a diversion, nothing material. Meanwhile I was naming our future children. A dichotomy of epic proportions. 

I knew I had to blow it up. I knew it was going to hurt eventually anyway so why not now. And so the rest ensued. 

I do not regret my extreme behavior. I do regret the need for it. I do regret the precipice of love from which I was jerked back. I do regret coming to see you at all. The past would have been better left in the past. I had already dealt with the loss of you once. The resurrection of the feelings that I had for you picked up where they left off, no rebuilding needed. So the loss of you, again, was magnified exponentially. Which is to say it mattered more and hurt more.

The worst part is the idea that while I am up at 3am taking a part an putting together the whole situation in one million ways; I am sure you are peacefully slumbering. Not even giving me a second thought. Toy broken, discarded, replaced. 

this hurts. 

and not even writing is making it better. 

A

Going to write

Don't forget you are a writer, go write. 

Don't forget you are a writer, go write. 

My finger itch to write the words that my brain hasn't thought yet. I know I am changing, I know I am evolving. I don't have the words for what is happening but that is not stopping it from happening. Never having been at this point in my life I do not know what to call it. I do not know what to make of it.

I know that I like it. I know that it was painful and now it's just itchy. Indication of a scar healing. I know it's going to get better. I know it's going to be amazing. I know I just have to hang on and take deep breaths and get there.

Where?

No idea. But it's happening. 

How's that for a Matrix?

A

All the feelings

I will be gone for the next 6 weeks. 

I am terrified. 

I am thrilled.

I need a travel journal. 

let's do this

A

Gifts from God

The 30th anniversary of my dedication found me in a corner in God's house, ala Hannah style, tearfully pleading for understanding and direction.  I emerged 2 hours later lighter and peaceful and with a plan. I had shed my burden and was ready to move forward. 

Less than 12 hours later I was presented with a gift. Like the best gifts it was unexpected but exactly what I needed in that moment, in this moment of my life. I didn't see it at the time. I didn't see it until today. 

The problems that I took to the figurative temple remain. If anything they have expanded, a noxious gas. Going from a manageable solid of struggle to a pervasive vapor. Yet, and yet, I can't seem to bring myself to care. To be invested. To be annoyed or even irritated. Not mildly curious, not worthy of a moment of attention- I simply don't care about them anymore. 

Because I spend too much time in my head thinking about you and smiling on the inside. Smiling on the outside. The happiness you have effected has eroded the hurt they inflicted to the point that what was once a chasm of pain is now overflowing with joy. And you're not even trying. That's how remarkable this is. With no effort you have wiped clean the hurt and left in it's place a bubble of happy. It makes no sense.

The only thing that makes sense is that you are a Gift from God. Given to sooth and make a way out. You have not changed my circumstances, not at all. But you have shifted my attention and brought me so much joy that they don't matter. 

If that's not a miracle I don't know what is. 

Philemon 4

Dewberry

Dewberry Hamster Wheel

I am bored.

I set ridiculous goals for myself.

Pleasantly surprising myself, I achieve them. 

I celebrate.

I am bored...

Things I'll never say to You

I pretend and tell the world that it is your symmetrical features that fascinate me. I'm lying.

Yes, you're beautiful. That is a fact. 

But it's your heart, so carefully hidden just under your sleeve, that I'm obsessed with.

You're so kind.

You're so loving.

You're so aware of the space you occupy in the world but you equally allow space for others. 

I've never seen that before. 

Arms moving, your heart flashes at me. 

I see it in fits and starts. You, always pulling your sleeve down to try to hide it. Never quite able. 

Hoping to protect it by hiding it. 

But I see it.

I see you.

However, because you matter to me, I pretend I don't. 

I'll wait. 

until you're ready

to 

show me on your own 

A