Of Warmth and Of Fear

I count myself lucky

To have loved so frequently

With such intensity, whether a slow build or an impetuous leap,

To at times feel overwhelmed with the beauty of my life and those that surround me

To feel blinded by grief at the loss, an exquisite, sharp, pain

Cleanses

And I am reminded of all those that came before

What I was taught, with words and deeds,

What experiences I took when I left, or was left

A father, with laugh lines

Impulsive laughter and adages that I repeat to this day

Your disappointment I so furiously tried to avoid,

I wanted to be perfect, the one to impress you

“You don’t have to lie, I will love you anyway.”

Some things stay with me

A mother, random and charming

With a streak of cruelty that I could never shake

Perfect façade, you were so insecure and miserable behind

I look at you now, and I find that, somehow, I love you anyway

“Everyone deserves to be happy”

Moments of insightful wisdom

A charismatic irish-italian, full of vigor and allure

Everyone was drawn to you and you almost didn’t notice

Flashing bright eyes and a quick smile

You made me want to be better

I still find myself thinking of you,

Midnight drives on back roads, blasting music we knew all the words to

“I drove all night”

The smell of coconut tanning oil and summer heat

A boyfriend, young and sensitive

So much more than you presented

We were so young and selfish

You shook me up, scrambled and off-kilter

You were a wound I wanted to heal, a boat without rudders

And still later, I fell back into you with little resistance

So simple and unexpected

You were a backbone for me when I thought I didn’t have one

A chemistry partner, brilliant and clever

Your perfect mouth ridiculing me and calling me out

So many conversations

Over dinner

On the phone, at two in the morning,

“I am totally in love with you”

A drunken admonition but that liquor didn’t make it any less true the next day

You are a mirror, reflecting both my faults and future

There was never a truth I couldn’t share with you

I miss you

A great love, hysterical and patient

I can say with certainty that you made me better

We may have crash and burned, but it was a glorious inferno

You knew without fail, how and when to say what I wanted to hear

“Ma’am”

I trusted you, inherently and without question

We played house and I hope when the dust settles that you think of me fondly

A friend, perceptive and discerning

You revealed truths about myself that I sometimes refused to acknowledge

I am still amazed that you choose to have me in your life

Witty and quick,

You have been a bright place for me, a safe place

You saw me at my absolute worst, destroyed and bleak

You nursed me back from that

I count myself lucky

To have loved so many

It’s a difficult lesson for me to recognize that we hurt those we love

Over and over

With varying degrees of infliction

The wounds at the time seem insurmountable and ugly

But like an impressionist painting, when viewed across time and distance

There is beauty in the scars

The image created a life of love

And at the center

A heart that keeps finding new things and glorious people to love

My skin is too tight, restricting me, chest tight, breath short.

And my thoughts too aching.

So many things that I want to say, but I don’t because it just hurts both of us for me to vocalize them.

I imagine your face,

Ruddy olive skin, surrounded by a thrush of dark, soft, hair

Haloed by the light as you lean over me

Quirking your lips on one side, enjoying a private joke

Your beard scratches my skin as you lean in, lips against that hollow just below my ear

The slight sensitivity I always feel the next day is a reminder,

Moment to moment, of the time I spent near you.

The fragrance of your body, the acrid, salty taste of your skin

I want to trace the lean lines of you

To simultaneously scratch and caress the length of your back

Trace the ink of your tattoos with my tongue

Your eyes hooded, lips slightly parted, sucking in air through your teeth

More than that,

I imagine looking at you from across the table,

Following your quick logic to and fro, the erratic scattered conversations,

Always leading back to the same passions,

How you never give yourself enough credit,

Or how you don’t value and appreciate how amazing you are

To be fair, you are also stubborn, but I can find no fault with that

Because for some reason you also embrace all this craziness in me,

So many things that I shouldn’t say,

It creates pain

I almost wish that I did not want you so damn bad,

Crave the nearness of you,

But I do and I will.

You’re an ache in me.  A gaping maw of my own creation.  It’s difficult to imagine which hypothetical future is more painful, the one where you are only mine and you are miserable because you are human and poigant, longing for human contact and validation, or the one where you’re someone elses, knowing that you love me, but that I cannot give you what you need.

This happened so quickly, no seatbelt, hair loose, caution to the wind, taking pleasure and joy where we could, in each other.  Something about you, your countenance, your startled laughter, you honesty and genuine, unfiltered, affection, you bring out both the best and worst in me. 

I’ve known for years that I was selfish and irrational, for some reason beyond my understanding, you seem to embrace these parts of me, the parts I can’t love. 

I’m sorry that I have fear and that I’m not strong enough to overcome it.  I’m sorry that I’m stubborn and no good at conceding, admitting defeat will not come from my lips.  I’m remaining the same until you tell me to be different.  When you do (notice how I said when and not if) it’s going to destroy me.

I’m going to swallow, control my breathing until I can get off the phone.  You know me well enough that you will know though.  I’ll speak very softly, I am capable of self-control sometimes.  The idea of it seems insurmountable, but it isn’t happening today.

Today you’re still mine, a foot out the door, but mine.

I’m sick with wanting to be happy for you.  I don’t want to share you.  At my core I’m selfish and self-absorbed.  I want her to pale in comparison to me, an Equal to my delicious sugar.  When you hug her, to think of the way I feel in your arms, the way I smell.

I KNOW what I’m supposed to feel.  I know that you’re lonely and sad and it isn’t fair to ask you to continue this with me but that doesn’t stop me from wanting it.  I may say that I’m glad she’s funny and pretty and smart, but I’m lying.

Because I love you.

I want you to remind me

To be proud of where I am:

That I’ve worked for everything

Even though it may seem at times that others have more or are happier,

This place where I am, I created this reality

The third story apartment, which is filled with only my things

The rooms all smell like me

The kitchen is filled with foods I love

The photos on the wall are people that build me up.

Remind me to be patient:

To enjoy the peace of solitude

To learn myself, a dangerous landscape filled with dangers and surprises I’m reluctant to acknowledge

To allow each thing its time

Life cannot be rushed; in the rushing you skip the longing and the sweet, tender, moments

The meaty parts that sustain you later

To permit others to come to their own conclusions without pressuring them into what I want

Remind me that I’m worthy:

Worthy of love, big love, overwhelming from an amazing man

To be worthy of the bright moments

Remind me to be understanding:

To love others and give full attention

That everyone deserves to be happy

That there is always so much more to the story than could ever be verbalized

Remind me to love and love and love.

Remind of the things I forget, that I couldn’t think of because I’m often selfish and stubborn.

Make me better, grounded.

Remind me to be happy at those small moments,

Those couple minutes, seconds even, when I’m reminded that I have merit and I earned this.

I forget and then it’s all darkness and closed doors

An endless loneliness, that’s when I need you to remind me.

notquiteapinup:

Please stop hating yourselves and each other because of your bodies.

fucking… enough.

thin, fat, some where in the middle… just… stop judging.
Why is that so damn hard?

Melanie: “Where’s that at?”

Kyle: “Near the Target.”

Me: “What’s a target?”

……..

Kyle: “It’s like a big fucking Wal-Mart but it’s red.”

Me: “Dammit.”