9-12-13


We finally talked freely and it seems some things never change:

As we sat in my car, I stretched over the center console to embrace her. We held each other more conscious than ever of the passing seconds. After a while, we freed ourselves, her face glowing in the low light. Sensing that everything was just as it had always been, I asked if a kiss would take us too far. We agreed it be our last one and indulged ourselves.

We kissed four more times that night. We slow danced in the street while she hummed some silly-sounding jazz song I probably should have recognized. I took her hands and we locked our gates together once more, traded raspberries and forehead kisses, licked each others’ faces, (don’t ask lol) told stupid jokes, and laughed, laughed, laughed at all that has happened.

She reminded me of how this all started with a conversation about my next birthday party (now tonight) almost a year ago, and then commented that it’s been a crazy summer. That’s no lie.

The entire evening wrapped itself around us wrapped in each other. And as I found it coming to a close, I told her, still resting in my arms, that no matter what happened, they would always be a home for her. She smiled broadly and as soon as had I said it, I saw the seasons changing and thought sadly that I have only been an extended summer home.

I’m just not the man she wants to build her life around. Nothing against me, nothing against her. At some point, wisdom must trump feeling if we are to live the lives we were meant to. I’m not angry with her in the slightest.

She’s free. I’m choosing to let go of her and be okay with that.

Not a second of these months was wasted, not a moment was anything less than vital for the both of us. No conversation pointless, no intimate moment, vain. This is not another weight, just fuel for the wait; God has done a good thing here and there is only better to come. Still, I’ll miss it.

Twenty-five is definitely going to be a good year.

Continue reading

Rage.


I was so angry last night. I was so angry that I just wanted to snap. I kept catching myself wanting to yell and I kept seeing myself throwing chairs through the sliding glass doors.

The rage was attacking me in flashes and before I could fight each one off more began blitzing. I felt like my insides would burst if I kept trying to hold it in, but I was so scared to let go. It wasn’t safe.

My organs seemed to be overheating and I swore something inside me was about to burst, but I wouldn’t let go, I couldn’t let go.

It’s never been safe to let go.

I started remembering all the times I’d let myself become angry, all the times people have told me that I scared them, all the times my mom told me it was inappropriate, I remember breaking Chris’ nose in elementary school for some reason I don’t even remember. I remember punching walls, bruising my knuckles, having to reseal and caulk the holes I made in my old bedroom.
You’re not safe.
You’re not safe.
You’re not safe.
You’re not safe.

My own voice in my head overwhelmed me.

You’re just not safe.

The last few times I heard it in the voices of my exes and it made me realize that they’re terrified of me. I’ve never raised at hand at any of them or made any threats, but I think they’ve each seen it in me and it’s driven them away.

At this point, I wanted to die. I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt like my internal organs were under so much stress they may explode, I hoped they would. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started yelling inside my head. I don’t know if I was yelling at God or myself, but someone had to know how angry I was. I screamed every negative thought that came to mind. Every thought, every feeling, I ran through everything I hate about my current situation and everything I hate about myself. I was honest about how angry I am with certain people and transparent about the fact that they’ve been treating me pretty badly. I said whatever came to mind without editing myself or forcing myself think rationally. (It seems that trying to tell the truth and being striving to be honest are two different things.)

Somehow peace came, quietly and reassuringly. I realized something, I’ve never really let myself be okay with how I feel when the feelings are ugly. I guess that’s why I’ve always been so intentional about letting people be exactly who they are when they’re with me. That’s why I try so hard to make myself a safe space for other people. I’ve not given myself any safe spaces, which has made me very unsafe.

I have to learn how to accept these parts of me or I’ll never get better. I deserve someone who accepts those parts of me, too. But, first things first, right?

#69 Revenge.


This study I’m doing, Breaking Free, is continuing to show me a lot about myself. In fact, it made me very angry this last week. I spent a couple hours writing a blog about what I’d learned and this silly app deleted it. *sigh* I would’ve left it alone, but sitting through the actual class brought it all back up and had me cooking again, so I started writing again, this time, I got a poem out of it. It’ll take a few months for it to work itself completely out, but I thought I’d at least share the first half of what I’ve written so far. Right now, it’s name is Revenge. It’s pretty damn personal, so read at your own risk. Continue reading

#62 Doesn’t Being Broken Bring Us Closer?


I figured out to change the clearance lights and turning signals on my car! And when I say “figured out” I mean “figured out”! My Owner’s Manual was no help and I couldn’t find any tips on the internet, so I just grabbed some screwdrivers and went at it myself!

I tried checking the outside and underside of my bumper, the inside o my hood, and then did them both again before I figured out what parts I had to unattach. It took a few minutes but I found everything! Before I knew it, I was discovering ways to other parts I hadn’t known before and genuinely having a good time disassembling my car in general! I learn so much about my car when I’m working on it! Maybe more than I’ve learned in 6 years of driving it.

I’ve always had a connection with my car and an affection for it. Over these years, we’ve been through a lot together (over 110,000 mile’s worth!) whether it’s road-tripping or commuting, hydroplaning or off-roading, whether I’m rushing to work or just sitting in my driver’s seat napping or just stealing some quiet time, I’ve become quite intimate with my car. The trick is, I’ve never felt so intimate as I have repairing it’s dented body, or changing its tires, trying to fix my radiator, changing headlights, and everything else I’ve done on it. Through all the experiences I’ve shared with it, the deepest and most fulfilling have been learning its system/ make-up/ inner-workings and learning how to solve any problems it has. Doesn’t it work the same way with people? You don’t really know a person until you’ve seen them at their worst, right? And it’s not until you’ve accepted them at their worst that you can help them be their best. And it’s not until you’ve helped a person be their best that you reach the richest levels of your relationship.

#53 Eyes Bigger Than Appetites


I think that many relationships fail for the same reason that most of us live without being alive:

We’re hungry for more than we can handle, but we can’t be content with what is already on our plates.

Being forced to slow down is usually the best thing that can happen to me. I’m just trying to learn how to stay slow for myself now.