Category Archives: Love
She was once a beautiful butterfly who wore her vibrant colors without shame. She spent her days with all the beautiful flowers and spoke with all the wonderful creatures. She was happy. But she always knew something was missing. Knew there was more. But she was willing to wait; to wait for what was missing to come around.
And one day he did. And he loved her. And she loved him.
He loved her so much he had to put her in a cage, he said.
“Why?” She asked. “Why do I need a cage?”
“Because you are so beautiful and wonderful. Someone might steal you.”
He cares about me, she thought. He worries someone might hurt me. He loves me.
“May I leave the cage?” She asked.
“No,” he told her. “You might not come back.”
“I will!” She promised. “I love you.” She reminded him.
And after many promises and weeks of convincing, he let her out. But her flowers were no longer there and the creatures were upset with her.
“Where did you go?” One asked.
“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” Wondered another.
“We thought we were your friends?”
Ashamed she returned to her cage. To the man who loved her. Her heart was broken but she knew he would still be there. He would still love her. And love her he did. So much so that he refused to let her leave because he didn’t want her to get hurt again.
“Aren’t I enough for you?” He asked. “Why do you need to leave me? You have a perfect home here.”
But she wanted to fly again. She missed the sun and the flowers and the creatures. She loved him but she loved flying, too. What is a butterfly without flight? She was beginning to lose her color, this she knew. And if she wasn’t as beautiful surely he wouldn’t love her. And he must love her, for who else did she have now?
Seeing that she was sad he gave her a gift. It smelled of flowers and the flame danced around throwing shadows around the cage, ghosts of the friends she once shared her days with. So she filled her days with shadow play while he was away. And he was always away. Soon the flame became her only friend.
As her colors faded the flame grew brighter. And soon the days were colder and she got closer and closer to the flame until one day she got too close. And when he finally came back she was gone.
She had gone where everyone has wings and the colors were more vibrant than she ever imagined. And she would remember how to be happy again.
I was part of his atmosphere before I knew where my feet were taking me. We stood there. Silent. Our only communication had ever been through exchanged glances. First of curiosity, then of desire, finally of mutual understanding. Months would pass between each steady hold of each others eyes but the energy was palpable always causing the hairs on the back of my neck to raise up as though a shock of electricity was shooting through the room.
He was who he was and I? I was with someone. My heart promised to a man I barely knew but couldn’t let go. Yet here I was, so close to him that I could see the tiny beads of sweat breaking out over his skin. We had never been this close before and neither of us knew what to do. So we continued to stand. Silent. Our senses electrified by our proximity. Never had I felt so passionately about anything that I could put no name to. What was this? My heart threatened to beat so wildly out of my chest that it almost met with his. Suddenly I was a fawn just learning to walk and he was the only thing keeping me upright, yet also the one causing me to be so weak and disoriented. I close my eyes and for a moment and the entire world consists of just us two. Our hearts beat in unison, a sound so loud it muted out the cacophony of the room and I can no longer tell where I begin and he ends.
You fill your life with lies that you convince yourself are truths and you shroud yourself in them, wearing them proudly, pretending to bear your soul to the world through a diaphanous curtain of lies perfectly sculpted into illusions of truth. No matter which direction you look at them from you are tricked into seeing something that isn’t there. You convince yourself so thoroughly of love that you can’t decipher what it is hiding. What is your illusion obscuring from you? What is it that is pulling at your heart? What is it that is causing a glint of truth to shine through and dance off of all the rough corners of your lies that you believed to have hidden so well?
“You can’t.” He whispers almost imperceptibly to the point that I wonder if he actually said anything.
But that was it, wasn’t it? That was the reason we wear our lies so comfortably; because all we need is one ray of truth to shine its beauty onto our rough cut lies and dazzle us as it dances across our bodies hiding the imperfections and alighting all the wonderfully manufactured “truths”. For so long I had desired to rid myself of my shroud and as I stood there, completely encased by his warmth, I knew this was my moment.
My eyes open and, breathlessly, I kiss him. An almost imperceptible moan betrays him, letting years of built up wonder escape into the time we can’t occupy. The life we will never have. The love we so long to have but will never be able to hold on to. I continue the kiss for as long as I can but what still feels like no time at all. As soon as our lips part my ears are assaulted by the raucousness of the room. His face fills my vision as my shroud falls down around us, shards of lies and truths shattering onto the floor, glinting in the light – a beauty so vicious you don’t realize the pain until you have been released from it.
I stand there naked as his face disappears into the crowd; from behind I hear my name called. I turn around, a single tear escaping to join the ruins on the floor. With one single glance he saw me. He finally saw me. And before I even had time to take one step he, too, was gone.
Naked and alone I left. I left behind everything I had worked so hard to make myself in to; I left behind the only person who had ever seen me; and I left behind a love that was so superficial I often wondered if I was simply making it up. And now the world could see me. Every part of me. Broken free by the kiss of the one who knew the forbidden freedom of loving yourself. Because loving yourself was the most forbidden love of them all.
I feel empty. And I don’t want to talk about it. Not because I think it wouldn’t help but because I’m not sure I know what is wrong and I don’t want to bug any of my friends. Any of the people I want to open up to. I feel as though I have lost all my friends…no, scratch that, I know I have. Once I fall down I push everyone away, distance myself, make it easy to fall apart without feeling like I will hurt anyone. Anyone other than myself.
Once my desperate desires turned into fears of possible follow through I began to realize that I wasn’t the person I had worked so hard to become. The person I was. The person I am. Somewhere along the way I let myself go. I lost who I was again and suddenly, without knowing when or how or why, I found myself back at the bottom of the mountain I had climbed up so carefully and tediously. And the thing is, clawing your way back to the top is much more difficult than the tumble down is. I see where I once was. I can even see my damn footprints in the ground but reaching even that first step seems impossible from this far away.
Fortunately for me I have done it before so I know I can do it again. Unfortunately, it has once again become a task that seems impossible from this view. I go through so many ups and downs through the day I am exhausted by the time I finally clock out at work thinking only of the comfort of my bed and dreaming of comfort food that I rarely crave let alone indulge in. But right now I would like nothing more than to finish off a very large bag of Cheetos followed by a pint of strawberry ice cream not to be shown up by a bottle of white wine.
Sometimes you search for solace in a person you don’t even know; a person who needs you in that moment just as much as you need them. A stranger who can take on all your troubles and you theirs because in the end you mean nothing more to each other than a fellow sufferer searching for any strand of a lifeline in this chaotic, unfeeling world of empty souls. I used to be able to find those people in my times of need but this time…this time I know it won’t help. I know exactly to whom I should be talking. To whom I need to talk, but it is more difficult than I ever imagined possible.
During my writing hiatus a lot has happened and I have wanted to share it with the world but every time I tried to sit down and write nothing came. Sometimes I couldn’t even bring myself to sit in front of my computer because I knew my inability to put emotions and feelings into words, my inability to do what has always come so naturally to me, would lead to nothing more than a self loathing pity party that even I didn’t want to participate in. I should know by now that once “writers block” sets in it means I have stopped connecting with myself; stopped taking time to do things I enjoy…basically stopped being myself.
So what happened? How did I get here? I was happy and making progress towards all my goals and trying new things and doing everything I had said I would do and then…what? I met someone. I met my future husband. And things were wonderful. At first. After a few months I do what I always do; I stopped focusing on myself and focused solely on making him happy. Why? Why did I do this? Because there is a very large part of me that believes I am not good enough and I have to make up for it somehow. This very large part of me was a part I believed I had finally shut away for good…I believed incorrectly.
It came back with a vengeance and likes to remind me of all the hurt I have endured from other men and the nasty things they would blame me for regardless of the fact that I was not to blame. I would like to believe that my devotion to making my man happy came from the fear of having him turn on me like the others in my past but that would be a lie. The embarrassing truth is that I have always devoted myself to making my significant other happy while completely neglecting my own feelings. It took me awhile to realize that my devotion was the exact thing that pushed the people I loved away and this time I was not going to let it happen. This time was different. This man was different.
And that, dear readers, is what finally hit me recently and knocked me out of my downward spiral. I’m still down here, but I know what must be done. I know that I need to talk to him. I know that it will all be okay because, guess what? This man loves me. All of me. For all the right reasons. And I can claim that he doesn’t, I can try and convince myself that he is like the others, I can push and push and push against him, but in the end I know that I am just fooling myself. In the end those wedding magazines are still sitting on my desk full of sticky notes marking desires and ideas. In the end, he’s still the one.
So as not to completely deviate from my old ways I must end this post with a cyber smile since today is Texas’ “Icemaggeddon” and my company closed down their offices I have been having my own little version of a snow day and would like to wish you a day filled with spiked coffee, cozy blankets fully equipped with cuddle bitches, and naps where you dream of nothing but heat inducing activities with your partner…should you be so lucky to have one with you.
Sadly my man is over THERE and I am over HERE and the icy roads are screaming a resounding, “FUCK YOU!” to couples all throughout North Texas. Thanks…we owe you. And we ALWAYS repay our debts.
There is no better misery than that felt in love.
The desire to be hated becomes almost as strong as the desire to be loved.
Hate me. Love me. Feel something. Anything. But please, don’t be indifferent. I need to feel something from you. I don’t care what.
Our unspoken words fill the rooms. Pushing in around us. I can’t breathe. Choking on my own thoughts.
You left the words behind. Walked away as I drowned in an ocean of broken words. You looked back unseeing; moved forward unfeeling.
There remain things to be said that will forever stay safely tucked away in the folds of our insecurities. Hidden by lies we tell ourselves.
Your name is still etched upon my heart, beating out its own tattoo along with my own heartbeat. Everywhere I go, there you are. I can feel you. You bring a smile to my soul with every warm memory – the ocean of pain washed away into the dark chasm of my past. Gone but never forgotten.
My broken heart still looks for you in everyone. Finding you everywhere. Comforted by the reminder of the pain I felt. The hurt that covered me like a warm familiar blanket.
I go in deep and suddenly there you are again. Still attached to my heart, finding everything I hated about you in every new love. But my heart must let you go, for my brain has finally carried the message to my heart, “you deserve better” it whispers.
And slowly the scars in my depths will fade.
An excerpt from one of my novels:
There was a party that night. There was a party almost every night, but this one was different. Everybody we knew was at this party, gathered together in an intimately large crowd of faces and names that few cared to remember but all knew. We passed by each other throughout the night – a light brush of the hand here, an exchanged glance there, a shiver of longing stretching across the space – never stopping to say hello. Words fell out of people’s mouths falling onto the ground in a cacophonous thunder – twenty six letters collecting on the floor in a strange new menagerie of words that none of us understood.
As the raucous party grew to an unbearable din it ended suddenly, a collective nod to the silently agreed upon expulsion of a raucous affair that never had a purpose but always came to fruition at the end of what some face or another would proclaim was “one hell of a day.” The after effects of liquor leaving piles of bodies haphazardly strewn around the apartment – the unexplainable fallout of a night that would be remembered only upon waking eyes blinking into focus a room that was not theirs; a partner they had no recollection of acquainting themselves with; a memory they will forever be searching for.
We united in the hall, our unspoken words screaming out, echoing through the apartment. Falling onto the bed we tore at each others clothes, desperate for a feeling we both knew we would not find. His eyes searched my face as hungrily as mine searched his finding solace in our shared emptiness. We were all each other had. All each other wanted. Our passion grew in immensity as the sun pounded its unforgiving rays through our curtains, spotlighting our deception.
The sound of my heartbeat threatened to burst my eardrums as we stared at each other in a state of mental and physical exhaustion. I saw his mouth open as three words spilled out and fell upon the space in the bed between us, forming a pool of empty desire. My mind screamed, “what is love?” My lips parted, but the words got stuck in my throat. What came out startled both of us. “I love you, too.” An unnoticed inflection at the end trailing off into the dark chasm of misunderstanding that would live between us forever. There is no question in love.
He moved his calloused hand over the curves of my body, laced his fingers through mine, and pulled me close. Our legs intertwined, our souls met in the middle. Nothing between us but naked lies etched upon our scared hearts. A beautiful duality of lies and truths created the world around us. Created our lives. Created our love.