I still feel almost nothing for this child in me. I slightly hate myself for this although I know that I won’t be disconnected forever.. We’ve moved, moved again, and moved once more. All I’ve learned is to trust no one. To let no one get close. This baby’s father is not involved due to my choosing.. every time I talk to him it turns into a fight. A stupid battle over things he just doesn’t get. Things he thinks he can still control… No… you say the things that you did to me at the closing of our relationship- I don’t have to owe you a thing…
I tried. I mean I really did. I invited him to come feel baby kick, told him he’s welcome at appointments and such. He greeted that with back to back no shows and silence via telephone. For someone he loved, I sure had been forgotten quickly.
So I don’t feel bad that I’ve cut him off of my life right now. He brings me pain, stress, and annoying drunken calls at 3 AM. He is the mess I’m free of and don’t need back in my life.
I know he will demand his “fair share” of the babe, like he’s a possession to be won, and I will allow what I can. But it won’t be what he wants… I’ve realized that although I am difficult, hot headed, and quite hard to live with- He brought out the worst in me. I am not that evil, controlling person. I do not brood and push people out. I’m realatively not suspicious of people’s every move… yet I was with him. I had allowed myself to be corrupted from suspicion, pain, and repeated heartbreak.
So no I will not let him force me to bend and break to his every whim. I will not allow things that make me uncomfortable, nor will I aspire to do things just to make him happy… This child will be a light, just like his big brother.
I refuse to allow someone to come and smother that light away.
People never realize just how screwed up someone is until it’s too late. We stop begging and crying and screaming for someone to care. We just… Give up.
To be numb is better than to question and to ask “God” why? To wonder why you can’t be good enough or wonder why you couldn’t change enough. Being numb means you can let go of your hopes and dreams. You can be okay with nothing.
And when the numbness finally faded you find a better option..
Yes it may leave people behind hurt, but you see- when you’re so numb.. You forget about anyone but you…
And I have forgotten about everyone. I have given my hopes, my dreams, and my love away for the dark comfort of being numb.. And maybe, just maybe- I can find a more permanent comfort. I can find a way to give up the last bit of ache that comes when I sleep, how much I hate to feel the longing in my dreams.
It will never be what I wanted. My dreams are only the foolish ones of a little girl, who was clinging to hope.
I know no one follows this.. But it’s nice to think that my voice may echo out somewhere deep.. And that maybe- someone’s heart will break with me.. Some girl who knows the pain, and maybe, then I won’t feel so much. That last bit can be given away..
I know that I am far from the first person to write something about this weekend’s Orlando shooting, but here I am. I’ve been sitting here taking a class that is based on “What does it mean to be human?” This past weekend really made me look at the class at a different way.. To see what has seemingly happened over and over and over again. When do we start to lose our humanity enough to walk into a club, an elementary school, a theater, and decide to hurt innocent people? Where did we go wrong as a community to not teach ourselves and our children to grow and to become healthy adults? When did we decide that it was okay to turn a blind eye to the people we see that obviously are struggling with finding who they are? Whether that is with mental illness, struggling to admit or accept who they are, or admitting that they have something severely wrong with them. Why do we allow these people to mix into and disappear into society, and more importantly- what drove them to such a horrible extreme?
I learned from an early age that one of the biggest experiences that humans endure is pain. And my heart breaks for the families and friends in Orlando. My heart breaks for the mothers and fathers, the sisters and brothers, the lovers, and the friends. And so many have the same questions: Why did this unspeakable act have to happen? Why us? Why here?
I can’t answer why.. Only the people who did so can.. And coming from Colorado- growing up in the shadows of Columbine and barely missing being a victim of the Theater shooting during the Batman premier- I feel the pain of the community. The fear, the frustration, and the unanswered questions.
When I see a horror like this on the news I always wonder why.. What compelled the person to think that was okay? Why did they think that was the only way to disapprove of something or be upset about something? Or just think that it was a “good idea”. It’s overwhelming to think that this person decided either knowingly or subconsciously to let go of that human part of them.. To decide that they no longer put themselves in the same category as their victims. It’s a debate that I truly wish I could sit down with a panel of psychologists and doctors and just ask- WHY.
But in the end, even unanswered, there are the people left behind from the disease of violence.. There are the so many to the already numerous victims from this weekend… So many broken hearts. So many families that will never be whole again…
The neighborhood is pretty good at identifying my child, and my cat. Between the wild blonde curls (don’t forget our blankie!) followed by the lazy swag of an orange and white tail high in the air, anyone can tell that these partners in crime are up to something.
Both the little one and my four legged child find it utterly ridiculous that I don’t let them adventure to abandon during the winter. The snow is simply a new adventure!
So as we all eagerly wait the warmer weather, here’s my small throw back to warmer days and far more fun adventures.
Sometimes you wake up realizing just how lucky you are. Just how special your day is.
I woke up today to read the sweetest thing I could ever imagine. I thought that we were special, but sometimes I forget just how he thinks about me. How special I am to him.
This is so rare and new to me, even a year and a half later! I’m always ready for something to hurt. Always ready to hear him say he doesn’t love me anymore. When in reality, he’s far from the other guys who have so clumsily dropped my heart before. He’s so much more…
He has been my rescuer, my confidant, my best friend, and my lover. He is everything I’ve hoped and dreamed for. He makes my stomach to backflips from the butterflies just from looking at me. That feeling myself as a hopel as romantic never thought I’d feel. I used to wish someone could love me the way that all these movies and books portrayed. And by the time I graduated high school, by the time I thought I had initially lost him forever, I stopped believing in those stores. I started to laugh at the fictional romance, thinking well- it must all be bullocks. No one loves like that anymore. I was an anomaly in a generation of quickies and online dates.
But when he found me again. When my soul pulled to him unknowingly- like some starved, broken creature- I never would have realized that he would be my everything that the books had hidden away. That feeling that I thought authors had made you.. They were only portraying a much bigger feeling that no one could truly describe.
This man makes me feel like a queen. He makes me feel everything that so many had wrote about and so much more.
I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything.
Maybe we are from the same star.
~ Emery Allen
This man is my everything.. He’s my sunrise and sunset.. All I want is to wake up and to feel his warm breath on my shoulder, to smell that russet deep spice that is him, and to look into his eyes and feel beautiful.
He’s all I’ve wanted, and my first love… To find him again, to have the fates help align us the way they did.. I can only beg the gods to let us keep each other.
Because I feel like I’d fight the world to keep this man in my life. I look at him and I see my future.. I’ve felt my soul pull to him since the moment we crossed paths, and I’ve never felt anything quite as strong again.. All those years he was gone, a whispered memory would come back from the depths and I would think of him. Wonder where he had gone, if he thought of me while he held someone else. Never in a million years did I think my soul pulled so strongly to him that we’d find each other again.. It’s like I KNEW I had to go.. I KNEW I’d find him again..
And now I’m so excited. To see where our adventures bring us, what we work through, and all the fruits of working our relationship. To see what my star destined soul mate and I have in store.
One day I’ll get to sign off on here with a new name.. With an exciting story, and be able to finally write down the stories my heart has begged for since the year I first spent with him.
But for now, I’m content with enjoying his sweet words, those safe arms, and enjoy those chocolate kisses.
Our story is far from over.
I’ve been sitting here for days now trying to think of what to write… Of what to put out there just for anyone to read. At first I thought- Oh! I’ll just be whitty and write funnies about my outrageous two year old’s antics. But then I remembered what kind of writer I am.. How I can’t help but display far too much of my soul to be displayed in the black and white of letters and ‘paper’.
So here I am. Here is all that is me, and I’m sorry for the feels. I swear I never intended for this kind of shenanigans.
I’m sitting here listening to Jealous by Labrinth and.. My mind keeps going back to so many things.. It makes me miss my Grampa more than words can explain..
But I guess the one thing I miss most is I can’t come in, sit across from him at the table, and ask “Am I doing this right?” I can’t cry to him and tell him how much it hurts, how lonely I can be, and how terrified I am that I’m making all the wrong decisions with both myself and my son… I have no one to dismiss my mother’s outrageous declarations of me being a messed up mother, and a broken person. No one to tell me to stick to what my heart and God would want.
I’m not jealous that he’s pain free. I’m not jealous that I can’t hug him. I’m not jealous that he’s somewhere happy without me.
I’m jealous of all the people that can go to him and just talk.. I’m jealous that I can’t go to my father to ask for advice.. To tell him about the amazing man that has become so integrated in mine and my boy’s life..
I just want him to look at me and tell me that I’m doing alright… And I know that I can never have that again.