Screaming Silent Suffering.

You turn on the shower, this is no unordinary movement. You open your mouth to say something but don’t even know where to begin. Nothing comes out. 

You get in and just let the water run, you’ve done this more than three hundred million times in your life. You’re scared and you know you feel it, but you give it a go anyways. You pour out your heart. 

You realize after a while, you’ve gotten used to the heat. You turn the nozzle up. You realize nothing gets through. Nothing is understood. Nothing is more clarified than it was before this new version of the same repetitive argument. 

The new temperature isn’t satisfactory, the nozzle goes up another time. You start to feel it again. Different boyfriend, years and years later, same sick wonder. What if none of this changes? 

Maybe the temperature gauge is broken, so you crank that bad boy up. It’s almost becoming too late now-it’s feeling like there’s no point in fighting. Fighting for what? You stand back silent, knowing deadliness of the heart.

---

 

It’s so different, but so similar at the same time. You know the water is hot enough, but you keep turning it up anyways. The lukewarm water isn’t good enough, it’s not okay to just be mediocre ‘okay.’ You get sick of having to turn the temperature up, so you blast it. The second that scorching water hits your skin you jump back against the cold wall of the shower-out of the direct line of fire of the piercing bullets coming from above. In that fight or flight moment, you choose flight-the fight isn’t worth your heart anymore. Then it all changes, you dabble your fingers in the fight, and try to tell yourself it isn’t as bad as you thought. So you tell your body to armor up, it’s time for battle. You step back into the fire, and let the attack rain down. At first it’s miserable. Your body doesn’t want to stand it, and begs you to give it relief from the misery. Your mind tells you a little more strength and perseverance is all you need, you can take more than you think. All of the sudden you find your mind wandering elsewhere, only then realizing you aren’t thinking about the pain any longer. You put your hand into the bullets and realize you’re numb. Now you think maybe the torture has gone on long enough, and you shut the operation down. Reaching for your towel, all you see is red. You look down and notice it’s everywhere. Your entirety is covered with red. Every single visible ounce of you is blotched and burning bright back up at you. The under-lying bruises are the only things you can see shining clearly through the red haze. Quizzical.

You step out and everything is vivid in your mind. You wonder what just happened?

It’s simple really.

The only pain you can control.

Allure in the Anguish.

She is shattered, she’s torn, a heart without mending

No sense to be made, just torment unending

Skin burns at the surface, her sins sit and fester

Stays calm and collect, you continue to test her

---

Is she changed and made new can you see where she’s bruised?

Look close enough dear she has scars from you too

She’ll let you get closer than many before

Her heart cold as ice numbing straight to your core

---

You tell her she’s beauty but she doesn’t know

Looking in through your eyes what more could you show

Peculiar a woman not really her own

Insanity lingers to be fully known

---

Watch her hold it together while dying inside

Back alley stitches fresh scars will soon hide

Withers apart but you still see that smile

Painfully faking the bliss for a while

---

Her heart lurking silent, a venus fly trap

Too close to her truth, armed and ready to snap

Loving you truly, intriguing and deep

Charisma and charm keeps you swept off your feet

---

Hope’s reeling inside you majestic and true

The life you desire she can’t dare to give you

You look in her eyes seeing things you may need

They crack at the seams overflowing with greed

---

Save yourself now no matter her gaze

Get out while you can as her soul starts to blaze

Moment draws near all hope lost heart to steal

You’re writhing in pain as she spots her next meal.

Lucky Number Thirteen.

Welp, here goes nothin..

W_

You may think you played an insignificant part in my history. But you’re still someone that I hurt. Someone that felt the trials of my ever changing heart. While still so young, you were devastated. I never understood until four plus years later, when you finally admitted it to me. When you finally asked me why things happened the way they did. I wish I had the answers you sought out back then.

---

A_

You taught me the meaning of a true friendship. In a twisted kind of way. That you would be there for me absolutely no matter what, no if-ands-or-buts-about-it. There’s something deeply cherished in that. But you also continuously help into pulling me away from everything I know I stand for in my cherished life. Or used to. Because that’s over and done with. Never again.

---

S_

Sadly for you, you were the first one that truly hurt over me during all of the in between. You were one of the first ones that told me to walk away, that there’s no way it could work after so much hurt had been done. That I deserved so much more. You made sure that I had an understanding of what I was pulling myself back into. You were right.

---

D_

You were all wrapped up in sin in my life. It’s so beyond frustrating to me. I know that I shouldn’t ever wish any parts of my story away. I know that God redeems all, that He is bigger than any of the sins my past could ever hold over my head. But my sins with you are devastating. And when does that leeway end? I don’t even remember what it was ever like being that damaged of a young woman. But I know that because I was her at one point in my life, you suffered heartache.

---

A_

My story with you is an emotional one. You were kind of difficult for me to understand always. When we talked, I knew in my heart of hearts the type of woman God desired me to be. I had gotten a taste of what it was like to be the absolute opposite. Of what it meant to go against everything I knew I wanted to stand for in my life. I had a choice to make. Fall back into the type of life I knew I never again wanted to touch, or move on with my life. Making my best attempt to give my future and faith a fair shot.

---

G_

The first guy to ever take me on a truly honest real date. Picking every detail about what our date consisted of, where we went to dinner, picking me up at my doorstep, opening my car door, bringing my a King Sized Reeses (kudos to you), walking me back to my doorstep. I was so flattered. I know I enjoyed being able to spend time with you. You respected me intently, but it just wasn’t enough for me to stay at that place in my life. I needed to pull toward my faith more than settle where I was in it at that point.

---

S_

I forget how it is that we even became a thing. It feels like a whole other lifetime. To no mistake of your own, I fell away from my faith during that month. But as a result, I realized what effort I needed to continuously put in to pursuing my faith. I could’ve done without it, but God uses it all.

---

D_

You taught me to not be the one to pursue. Not because you manned up, but more of a trial and error issue of my heart. Sadly, this wouldn’t be the last time I had to learn this. But this one was the big one. It really showed me to respect myself enough to trust God over my own instincts. Because my instincts will be wrong. No doubt about it. I just know you really cared…even though you’re unhealthily excessive about it.

---

D_

The thought of the time I spent with you seems so foreign and weird. I guess you taught me that things would almost always be too good to be true. And when they were, to run for the hills. Because that’s just what you did. I guess when someone is everything you’ve ever wanted, they still aren’t enough. Makes sense. Great for the self esteem of a woman.

---

D_

You are such a genuine person. Literally one of the most kind hearted people I have ever met. You are wise, and thorough about the life you want you live. You strive for a determined future, for being wonderfully and truthfully happy. That’s very admirable. You treated me like a princess. Unbelievably so.

---

S_

Just so random. I think when someone drops off the face of the earth and ignores you for absolutely no reason, that should hint at you to pack your bags running. But, someone’s an ignorant girl. *cough* My life. Just because I’m twenty doesn’t mean I have to be grown up and wise yet. I had just barely turned twenty merely a week ago, so that barely counts as growing up-right??

---

M_

You’re a toughy. You are confusing, angry, and probably right to hate me. You were one of my best friends. Someone I cherished more. So maybe this ache hurts more than any of the rest because you were truly cared about long before I broke your heart. You think that no matter what I came into your life for a reason, but I think you were in mine for an even larger one. I think you’re the switch. I think you were the trigger to my loaded gun. That all of this has been building up for a long time. That it was a fire I watched ignite itself. And now I watch as our friendship goes up in flames because of my own selfish past. Know, that I’m praying for you always. Even when the rest is dead and gone.

---

B_

I’ve written novels on you, and I don’t really think I have to add to it. This that I’ve said before still remains true..You are the muse to the darkness inside me. That should be enough for me to understand. Thanks for that..

---

I thought this was a good idea. I thought this would bring some kind of clarity. Some kind of perspective, or closure. Something to make it all official and there to simply see. See the hurt, grasp an understanding of the damages done. Can we wash my war paint off yet?

But it makes me sick to my stomach. So many broken hearts. And for what? Ending one vicious cycle just to pick up another? Do I truly think I’m better off now? I ended a terrible cycle in my life that truly hurt two people. It hurt me, and him. Then my new cycle, while unintentional, it hurts. It burns, it breaks, shatters and rips apart every piece of you.

I guess that’s where humility comes in. Because this is one blog I’m not proud to write. These are words that break my heart to have to bring into reality. These truths that so many people will never understand. That I don’t understand. That I can’t even begin to put into order. It’s truly shattering.

My entire life, it was drilled into my head that the phrase “I’m Sorry” means that “you’ll never do it again.” So I grew up paying close attention to when people threw that phrase in my face. Like it simply meant less to them than yesterday’s worthless losing lottery ticket numbers. I always despised when people would say “I’m Sorry.” I grew up learning to doubt it. To think back to them, but are you really sorry? Because most of the time, they aren’t. And most of the time, they’re really saying it for themselves. To make themselves feel better about acting like a crappy, inhumane individual.

So I’m going to tell you something, although it’s no giant secret. In fact, i’m quite sure I’ve told you before. So in that sense, let me reiterate to you. From the very depths of my heart and soul, I’m Sorry. For causing you pain, for being the source of your heartache-no matter how big or small. It matters. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that before. Your heart, it wasn’t deeply protected by me the way it should’ve been. It wasn’t paid close enough attention to. It was mistreated, emotionally abused, and let down. I know I’m human and I’m bound to let you down. But it wasn’t supposed to be like that for you. So I’m sorry. I can only imagine the heartaches of trauma I made you suffer through. I hope you know it was never in my intention. And I know that doesn’t really matter. From experience, I know that hurt is hurt, no matter the direction it’s coming from. When life feels like it’s ending, I promise you it isn’t. Just remember, God’s got your back. He’s not letting you go through all of this for no reason. He has a purpose, and He’s just waiting for you to accept that and find peace in it. Trust in Him.

Somewhere, I think it had to end. That this life shattering cycle would come to a close. I just never thought I’d see the day it would literally come crashing down all around me. Every which way I turn. Although it’s sad, I know to look for the good in it all. I know better now to deeply embrace it. To embrace the change, the quiet hearted peace. To know that whatever is going on here, chaos and all, just means that God is doing serious work up above.

So tell me, now that you have a teeny understanding of just how bad I’ve messed it all up, what would you do? You seem to know all of the answers my life doesn’t even ask anyways…oh, wait.

---

Will she ever be seen differently? Will she ever stop feeling like the people that look at her see right through her? Will she ever stop feeling like the people that look her in the eyes can see her burning pain that’s hidden so carefully deep below the surface? Will she ever stop feeling forever damaged and broken? Like a mosaic gone so wrong, the shattered glass can’t be created into anything new. Will she ever stop feeling like the world’s largest unsolvable puzzle? Like each of these thousand pieces is from an entirely different puzzle. Assuring there is no way to solve it, put it all together, or make it whole again. Just damaged. Broken.

Heartbreak is real. Sin is real. And it will tear your entire life apart. It will consume your identity. Make you mistake even yourself for who you really are.

---

Lucky number thirteen. Thirteen broken hearts. One shattered girl.

Wreckage.

This morning, I woke up and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I really love to sleep, and I don’t mean to brag…but sleep really loves me too. This morning I woke up and stayed in bed an extra half an hour like just any other morning when I’m not rushing off to anything. I finally got up, and went on a run. Nothing too dramatic, your average three and a half miles. I ran because I’ve gotten into the system of it this week and I felt like striving on. Like normal, I waited until too late in the day, even though it was only nine in the morning. Still, it was beyond hot and humid to be out on those country roads, burnin rubber under the soles of my feet. By the time I got home from my run, my parents were getting up just as I was cooling down. After placing myself in front of my fan for ten minutes, dousing myself in a bottle of water, I went in by my mom. I needed a pep talk. Tonight was supposed to be the first night I would work PM’s by myself at my new job. I had only trained for two days, and I felt ready, but hesitant to take on this task. After my mom gave me some words of wisdom, I thought I was another step in the ready direction for the hefty goal of the day. So I took a shower, put on my scrubs, and mentally prepared myself. I figured I’d make the day worth as much as I could, getting things accomplished. So I ran to FonDuLac quick, a few hours before my shift started. I thought of how productive I was being, and I felt pretty proud of myself. I made two different stops and got things done! I left my last stop in time to get me to work thirty minutes early. Plenty of time to look over all of my resident notes, and update myself on anything new I needed to know from being off the last two days. I tried to be an overachiever today. I set my GPS up to get me to work because there’s construction consuming my normal route from FonDuLac to Mount Calvary. I headed out on the back roads, just like I do every single day. I watched as I left FonDuLac, I watched as I entered each tiny town, and left it just as quickly. Singing along with the radio like I was on the American Idol stage. I watched as I passed the Mount Calvary sign, pleased with how much time I’d have before work to prepare. I took a left onto Calvary Street. I thought to myself that I didn’t even need to look at my GPS anymore, I knew where I was, work was up the hill on the left. I was singing along to Macky’s “She’ll Come Runnin” on repeat like always. I thought to myself that I knew these roads pretty well. I thought to myself that this was the point where the speed limit changed. I glanced my eyes to my dash screen, and then back up at the road.

There he was. I didn’t even have time to react, but I did. Where did he even come from? I know I didn’t follow him into town. I didn’t follow anyone into town. It was just me. There was nobody on Calvary Street when I took that left. It was just me. But he must’ve come from somewhere, because here he is. All of this in a second.

I slammed my feet onto my breaks before my mind even realized what was happening. I’ve never heard sounds like that before. I’ve never felt a car jerk that way before. I stopped as much as I could as fast as I could. I tried to turn my car to the right to avoid him, but there was a sign there blocking the way to the field off the road. I had nowhere to go. He wasn’t moving, I couldn’t stop, and I had nowhere else to go.

And then we hit. Impact. Wreckage.

Now I have some kind of understanding of what the movies always make it look like. For those mere seconds, life slows. Everything in my car went flying. All of it pushing as far forward as it could go without escaping my windshield. My cold pizza for break at work, bouncing off my passenger air bag compartment. My tea and water flying from the middle counsel into my radio system. My purse and all of its contents, my books, my cell phone, everything flying forward so fast, with nowhere to go. My sunglasses, that sat so cozily on my face, completely ripped off and into the dashboard from the force. My body, every part of me pushing into my steering wheel. My head jerking forward so fast, still nowhere to go. My legs coming up so quick, smashing so hard into my steering wheel and dashboard. My seatbelt, pulling me as much back as possible against the heavy pulls forward. My breath, absolutely gone and speechless to my lips. My mind, not even understanding what is going on or what to do.

Then just black.

So many thoughts. So much shock. So many tears. I don’t even know how I managed to put my car in park. I didn’t remember to put on my hazards or turn my car off. Just to get out and see if he’s okay. Like a checklist in my mind. A shook up sob restarting after each mental box was x’d. His safety, check. The police, someone called, check. My parents, CRAP! Realizing how in shock I was. I ran back to my car and searched the upheaval inside for my cell phone. I couldn’t get my fingers still enough to unlock my phone, let alone dial my parents. So many unintelligible sobs I couldn’t even believe I was speaking. ‘I got in a car accident.’ I’m sure it came out absolutely nothing normal sounding like that. Still in shock, I didn’t even realize people were talking to me. Hannah, she asked you if you were okay. CRAP! I didn’t even think! Looking down and around myself to see if anything was battered or torn. No, no, I’m okay. Check. Work, CRAP! I’m a minute away, and I have to make this call. I won’t be coming in tonight. All of the mental preparations I was making, done for the day. Macky and Mandy, oh my gosh. How in the world could I call either of you and tell you I’ve been in a car accident? How did I get in this position? I don’t get in car accidents. This kind of thing has never happened to me before. The calls would have to wait, there’s no way I can mentally handle that right now. My car, I should probably look at it. Oh my gosh. This isn’t my car. My car is nice, beautiful, Dori. These shattered and smashed pieces all around are the remains of her front half. The broken headlights, blinkers, paint, plastic pieces strewn all over the road are now Dori. The massively crunched and smashed ends of her are her results. The wheel well insides laying behind my precious baby near the ditch, how did that get all the way back there? The bent axle and frame, how did that even happen? How did this even happen?

So much. So many people. So many questions. So much emotion. So much panic. So much confusion. So much shock. So many tears and breathless sobs. So much. Too much.

I couldn’t stop the thoughts from pouring in. What is God trying to show me? Why did this happen? I’ve always wondered what it would feel like. I’ve always wondered how it would happen. How the people I love would react. I can’t believe this happened to me. I can’t believe it. I was a minute away from work. I was so ready and motivated to be the best CNA I could be tonight. I was ready to take on this shift. What if I wasn’t getting to work a half an hour early? Would I still be in an accident? I woke up today like any other. Why do I take my life for granted? Do I take my life for granted? What if my accident was worse than it was? What if I never walked away from it? I never thought I’d see my brand new car being lifted on a tow, like a crumpled box car. I never thought I’d hear so much fear in my parents’ voices, ‘Are you OK?!’ I never thought I’d pray so much and so hard to God. Wondering what was going on, what I was supposed to do, begging Him to take the reigns. Begging Him for guidance. I just don’t understand. How did this happen to me?

I woke up this morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted to lay in bed and dream about the people I love. This morning I got out of bed anyways and became productive with my day. I ran, because I have two working legs and two working feet and my body lets me run. I talked to strangers because I love to be friendly. I sang along to my favorite CD in my car, because whether or not it sounds good, I have a voice I can use.

I woke up this morning and I got in a wreck. Because I’m human. I cried heavy tears today because I was more scared and confused than I have ever been. I got angry because I didn’t have all the answers, and I’m the furthest thing away from them.

I woke up this morning and I know I took a million things around my life for granted. And that makes my heart the heaviest it’s been.

I woke up this morning and I literally saw that opportunity flash right before my eyes.

Wreckage.

7.25.15

An Open Letter To The Only Person I’ve Ever Loved.

Five hours straight of writing, and one all nighter later..

Words fail me, when it comes to you. Words fail me and it’s literally that simple.

Lately, you’ve been popping up randomly in my thoughts, out of the complete blue. Even as I type those words, I feel like I’m suffocating. I feel like I can’t think straight, like I can’t breath at the thought of you. I think you’ve been showing up in my mind because we’re about to hit a landmark. For eight and a half years, we were friends. We grew closer and closer, and our walls fell down one layer at a time. After five years of friendship, we began a relationship. Some approved, while others couldn’t have disagreed more with our decision. After five short months, I knew you had my heart. I fell so in love with you, I began to forget what life without you ever was. I remember being so cautious in the beginning, waiting for the perfect moment to tell you those three beautiful words. To say them for the first time, and not even be able to begin to explain what they meant to me. That’s how I knew they were true. They were so innocent and pure, so absolutely indescribable. That’s how I knew I loved you. I knew it because I didn’t even have to think twice. It was as if loving you was second nature to my heart. As if I had known all the while that you were the person my heart was longing to hold onto forever. From the day after Christmas on, we started celebrating. One day at a time-you started changing my life. One week at a time-our memories piled up. One month at a time-I got to hold you a little tighter and kiss you a little stronger. One year at a time-I got to understand the deepest parts of who you are. To know the things about you, you can’t fully expose to anyone more than your first love. To dive deeper into your soul than you even knew existed. I know all of this to be true, because you pulled at my life in the exact same way. One year meant a lot to us. Each year was so different than the last. Each held it’s own set of difficulties, while taking our relationship to a completely different place than it had ever been before. I was completely in love with you for sets of three hundred and sixty five days at a time. This time though, the landmark is quite a bit different.

Three hundred and fifty eight days ago, our relationship ended. For the very last time. It was the last time you ever had full preview of my heart. It was the very last day you knew the woman behind the tear stained eyes. There has been so much change within the last three hundred and fifty eight days of my life. On May fourteenth of last year, I was an absolute wreck. I had no idea if my choice to walk away from you was the best thing that ever happened to me, or the biggest mistake of my life. To be honest, some days I still struggle with that contemplation, as if it would ever be a realistic decision I’d ever have to make again. But it won’t be. Because I chose to walk away. I chose to once and for all remove myself from a situation that for a long time, had hurt me more than flourish me. I chose to trust that God would take every ounce of pain this decision caused each of us, and through it instead show us the depths of His abundant grace. And He has. Sometimes I am blind to that fact, but deep down, I’ll always know.

May fourteenth of last year, I couldn’t breath through the sobbing. I couldn’t face you and tell you all of the reasons I knew it had to end. I wasn’t capable of looking you in the eyes and staying strong enough to back away. May fourteenth of last year was the first day I fully gave control of this situation to Christ. Within the last three hundred and fifty eight days, I’ve gotten that surrendering confused in my mind. There have been numerous moments of beyond control breakdowns. Times in the middle of the days I’d want to dial your number that’s been forever engraved in my mind, and listen to you pick up the phone. To hear the hesitation I knew I’d be exposed to when you saw it was me calling you and didn’t know if you should click accept. There have been so many sleepless nights like this one, where I’ve wanted to unblock your number and say something. Anything. To know that everything that ever happened between us was real. That this kind of stuff simply couldn’t come from the depths of my imagination. That I really lived through it all, and am sitting here writing about it now. Pouring my heart onto this page. On May fourteenth of this year, we’re going to reach a new landmark in our relationship. It will create a completion of the first year out of the last four that we never spent a day in a committed relationship with one another. It will prove to me that we broke that cycle-the vicious back and forth that made us hold such a deep begrudging hatred for one another. It’s done and over with.

I can’t really even comprehend it. All of the sudden, last night it just hit me. I didn’t understand why I had been thinking of you so much lately. I couldn’t justify these random thoughts or what emotion they put on my heart. This process, has been something intense. Falling out of love with you. These thoughts of you, they used to be an everyday occurrence. Well really, they used to be an every millisecond occurrence. Back then I couldn’t imagine how one day, it would stop hurting. People around me would try to be supportive; giving me these tidbit encouragement phrases. Really though, the sugar coating only made it a billion and two times worse. I didn’t want to think that someday it would go away. All of my love for you. I didn’t want to have to let go. I specifically remember saying to so many people that I wasn’t strong enough. That it was such a conflicting situation because I didn’t want to move on from you, I never wanted to. Falling out of love, it hurts like Hell. it’s the absolute most heart wrenching and painful thing I have ever experienced. But do you know what’s even worse? Making yourself fall out of love, with the one and only person your heart ever truly cared for in that way. Telling yourself you have no choice but to keep him blocked on everything. Lying to yourself if you have to, repeating any mentally justifying mantras in your mind that make an excuse for the reaps of pain. Burning the letters he wrote like it was your own soul on fire deep inside where nobody else cared to look. Deleting the emails, one by one; as if the person that used to be the only thing you ever knew, never really existed. Staring at the photos, while your mind goes absolutely blank as you look at his face, just like you seemed to have trained it to. Denying any sense of self the moment anyone ever brought his name up. Your body going into shock, confused and conflicted as to whether it’s supposed long and cry for him or miss him and mourn him today. Your heart screams out that you love him unconditionally; and yet your mind asks who even is he?

My heart is the weakest part of me. Every fiber of my being will always long to love and be loved like nothing else in this world existed. Like nothing else could ever matter nearly as much as the person your soul is intertwined with. My heart remembers everything my mind tries to forget. These thoughts of you? They’re burned into the muscle memories of my heart. Spelt out and circulated through my body by the very blood that’s pumping through my veins with every breath I take. My heart thinks of every second I spent loving you. It makes me remember any good I ever believed was created by you in my life. These are the things I made my mind forget. The things I chose three hundred and fifty eight days ago to instead cover up with the scars you carved into me.

I loved you. With absolutely anything I had in me I deeply loved, and cared for you. It consumed me-you consumed me. The way that I cared for you was as simple as breathing. Needing you like I needed the air that surrounded me to keep going through this life day by day. I loved you so much that I let go of myself. I dropped the girl you fell in love with to be the girl who was in love with you. I never saw it until it was too late and too much had changed. All I knew was that I was your girlfriend, and that was all the happiness I thought I needed as a junior in high school, a senior, a freshman in college, and a sophomore in college. My identity became loving you. But by loving you I learned to hate parts of myself. Neglecting the honor I needed to be a woman of God, a daughter, a sister, a best friend, a wife, a student, an aunt, a teenage girl, myself. Letting the rest of who I was fall away, I then only knew to be your everything.

I’m not really sure when I was possessed to change this. When I finally understood the things people in my life narrowed in on from day one of us. One day, I got a grasp on every terrible horrible thing we put each other through. From that day on, I knew my life would never be the same. I knew I would never again look into your beautiful blue eyes and see the innocent hearted young man I grew up knowing and eventually falling so deeply in love with. I knew from that moment forward, you could no longer see me as the beautiful and carefree spirit you had cherished. Even when you don’t tell me, I know you hated me. And you hated you. I know because I hated each of us the exact same. The things we’ve been through together, I hope neither one of us ever has to go through again. I pray to God that we learned. That this consequence, this terrible and long and yet so growingly beautiful three hundred and fifty eight days shows us for the rest of forever what not to do. I pray that it shows us what we had, and what we gave up.

I want you to know that I remember. No, I don’t remember what it’s like to fall in love, or how that even works. But I remember what it was like to be in love with you. I remember the details of us, all of the things I knew as such norms in my life. All of the things I now know I simply took for granted during our time together. I remember almost every moment we’ve spent together over the past near decade of our lives. Every picture I have, you have, or that someone else shared of us. I can remember the conversations we had within that split second snapshot of time. I remember the way my world lit up when you smiled at me. I remember the same bone chilling, mind numbing effect my body was overtaken by every time I felt your skin touch mine. Whenever you’d wrap your arm around me and pull me in close. Whenever you’d slip your thumb over top of mine as you held my hand. A tradition I’ll carry into any new relationship, that I didn’t know I cared about until I held your hand. I didn’t know I cared that much about being protected until you were the one who I was entrusting my heart to. I remember the way you laughed at me until you had tears rolling down your face. That machine gun laugh that I could probably near perfectly reenact to this day if I tried. That laugh that sent my stomach into fits of giggles, just at the opportunity to make fun of you. I remember wrestling, playing around constantly, knowing full well that you’d never truly hurt me. Not in that way at least. I remember one specific feeling that shatters my heart to reflect on. It’s that moment, tell me you know it. That moment when you’re walking into the room, and you look for me? I’m watching you walk in, and noticing that the first thing you want to do is find me. Make eye contact with me. Come to where I am and pull me close. That’s the one. That beautiful moment when I realize I’m the initial thought on your mind. I crave that moment. I see it happen to couples around me, people that don’t understand to truly breath that moment in like it’s their last. I remember what it feels like to have that moment happen in my very own life. I remember what it feels like when you play with my hair, without fail putting me to sleep. I still think about the way you smell. I forever found such comfort in that. Pulling you close and embracing the familiarity of your scent, as if it was an aura I could never tire of. I think about the way you so effortlessly put your arms around me for so long. I think about how simple it was to love you. For so long. I think about and remember all of it. I remember you. I remember whoever it is you used to be, the boy I used to be intoxicatingly in love with.

But then, I too remember the heartache. When I think about the good too long, it makes me question myself if all the bad was simply made up in my mind. If I came up with my own excuses to walk away, and never really had justification. But then I see my scars, and I know better. I think about the beautiful things until I remember when it turned ugly. How the two became so intertwined, they were indistinguishable. When it became so messed up that you started using my own gentle heart against me. Turning me into a bitter ice princess, that sought out nothing but anger and resentment towards you. I remember the endless arguments and the tears shed. Filling the lives in the world around me with my core cut sorrows. I remember the insecurities. I still look back and can’t believe that was ever me. I remember having to tell myself I needed to save me. Having to pep talk myself into loving who I was as a person and as a woman. Telling myself I was enough. I remember all of the times I should have let you go. How much pain, trouble, and love wasted that would have saved each of our hearts. Like the cloudy day you sat in Rosie in your driveway. I remember the scruffle on your face and the white tshirt you were wearing. I begged you and begged you to choose between me and her, and you chose her. And I stubbornly refused to accept that as a truth in my life. I should’ve just let you choose her. I remember when I pulled you over to stand in the spot that you first kissed me. I kissed you with tears streaming down my face, pathetically begging you to remember the love we shared-but you never kissed back. I remember just how bad that hurt. I should’ve let you go then too. I should’ve saved us sooner, I just didn’t know how. And I’m sorry for that.

I guess eventually, I just got tired of it all. I got sick of having the same circle round conversations and disagreements that never ended up leading anywhere. I got tired of being tormented by the scarring memories of the painful past we had. I was wasted away by being constantly reminded of the bad decisions I made for myself. It was exhausting to hold your mistakes back against you. As if any of it could have been resolved or handled. I was an exhausted and sad girl that didn’t want to be sad anymore. I just wanted to be understood by someone, by anyone. I got tired of talking about it all. The pain. I needed it to stop, and to never look back on it again.

And yet here I am. Three hundred and fifty eight days later. Still mourning the loss of the first love of my life. Putting out there in the open all of the things I never wanted to speak into my life. For the first time in an excessively long time, being vulnerable about you. Letting myself hurt and still mourn over the loss of you within who I was. I’ve spent the last three hundred and fifty eight days being strong. Holding my guard higher than it has ever been before. Blocking out any sign of hurt from anyone, but most definitely from you. Making sure that there was no way you could break the hedge of protection I held up against you and the effects you always had over me. But it leaves me with one question that I endlessly ponder.

Who’s going to be strong for me, while I’m too weak to any longer be strong for us both?

From the first, to the last:Fix You-Coldplay.

Lights will guide you home.

Finally Freedom

Two years ago, my life was consumed by the word stuck. I had absolutely no idea about anything that I wanted, or anything that was currently going on within my life. I chose to allow myself to be consumed by confusion. It seemed a lot easier to live life this way, then to stir up chaos and change anything. Even though I was aware of the position I was putting myself in, I didn’t know any better than to just sit there and despise it all. I would endlessly complain to my best friend about things that I found ridiculous in my life. I didn’t like the way my then boyfriend treated me. I didn’t like my body. I didn’t like the pressure I constantly felt from some of my family to be someone I wasn’t. I didn’t like the situations I was putting myself in. I didn’t like a lot of things. My best friend, being the beautifully kind hearted soul that she is, would never (or SO rarely ever) tell me that if I didn’t like something, to change it. However, she would tell me things that mattered even more. She would tell me that through it all, the heartache, the terrible ways people have treated me, and the terrible ways I have treated myself, that God loves me. She would remind me that through it all, God has and will continue to have my best interest at heart. That no matter what, things will always end up just as He has planned them to within and around my life. Not a day goes by in which I have ever forgotten what an absolutely amazing best friend I have been blessed with. I’m so fortunate that she was and is there to push me along, and to support me through it all.

Over a year ago, I finally worked up the courage, through Christ alone, to make drastic changes in my life. Every change I’ve made within this time I believe stems from Christ’s love for me. After I started to realize more and more about the source of the only true love I’m capable of feeling, my life flourished. After dealing with a lot of mistreatment from others, I simply stopped putting up with it. When dealing with anyone in my life, I would ask myself ‘Would God treat me like this, or want this for me?’ The rest is simple. If He wouldn’t, then why in the world would I let anyone else have that much of a negative impact on me or my life? Effortlessly, I tell you that I shouldn’t, so I didn’t. 

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Now, here I sit, over a year later. There are definitely a few select people that are not the happiest with me due to decisions I’ve made in my life. I’ve gotten to the point of saying that sometimes you just need a little selfish lovins. But even as I type that, I feel extremely convicted. After explaining my oh so intelligent theory to a fellow Christian, they snapped me out of my logic on life really quickly. Yes, I need and deserve to take care of myself and the person I am becoming. But does that make me selfish? Absolutely not! What I need to remind myself of on the daily is what an absolute precious gem I am to God! I need to finally make it stick in my mind that I am the daughter of the One True King. That I am eternally fulfilled in Him, and endlessly loved. I need to take comfort of the beautiful grace proclaiming that I deserve the world, and I deserve every ounce of any greatness the Lord brings into my life and allows me to bring into others’ as well.

People have been continuously posing the question to me lately, ‘What are you learning?’

Whenever I’m asked this, a million different things relating to this theory instantly pop into my mind. Typically, instead of boring the inquisitive soul with my life story, I give them a sigh and an “I don’t know.” Which I guess isn’t entirely true.

So what am I learning?

Interestingly enough, a lot.

I’m learning about relationships. That I truly shouldn’t, and don’t need a relationship in my life. So for me to accept just any Joe Shmoe would be absolutely ridiculous. I’ll admit it open heartedly, I am a sucker for love. If you can feed me delicious food, make me laugh until I cry, and romance me to no end, I would cherish you beyond your comprehension. I would go absolutely out of my way to let you know about God, about me, and about love. These are all certainties about myself that I’ve come to know through much trial and error in the field of men. So the things I’m learning, are about accepting only the love I feel I am truly worth. It is so easy in our society to crave relational perfection, yet so grossly inadequate. I am learning to stand up for the things I know to be right in the way I deserve to be cared for; and to walk away when I’m sure that that care simply isn’t being made apparent. There are over seven billion people on this earth. I’m sure a lot of them can put on a good front, making it seem they are capable of truly taking care of my heart. When it comes down to it, what’s underneath the exterior mask is what I’m really all about. I don’t want a half a month of adorable, I want a lifetime of Godly endearment, and I have complete faith it will happen.

I’m learning about selflessness. Wise words by Aaron continuously remind myself that “Doing what is best for myself, leaves only what is second best for everyone else.” I take a look around me, and see that nearly everyone in this world wants what is best for ourselves. How crazy a thought. What would the world look like if we truly wanted what was best for the people surrounding us instead? Mind blowing brain learning. Loving the way God loves is not an easy task. Sometimes, people make it the most impossible of things to accomplish; but you try, try again anyways. I’m learning that sometimes when you’re holding on too tightly to something or someone, it can be the most selfish act you do. When you know it’s just not right, or the other person isn’t going to be ‘the one’ for you, you should give them the courtesy of honesty. If you really seek what’s best for them, you would choose to free them from your false commitment. Giving them the opportunity to heal and move forward with their own life.

Overall, there will never be a day I don’t learn something new about myself or my faith. I look forward to my reminders from God on a daily basis how genuinely loved and protected I am. I love to tell the people around them how much I love them, and how they have impacted me. I love to get the absolute most I can out of my daily hours in this wild life. I love to embrace change, romance, and memories. I love to love. I am more than grateful to the Lord for pushing me to so many great opportunities and giving me endless chances for growth. I pray I never stop shaping into the beautiful Woman of Christ that He created me to be, in His image alone.

 

Burning Scars

Life is filled with pain, filled with damaged people, filled with hurts. What does it mean if we let all of that define us? What does it mean if we don’t?

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The greatest sorrow in my life happened March 9th of my seventh grade year in school. I’ll always remember the small details that shouldn’t really matter I guess, in the grand scheme of things. Having a girl’s weekend with my family and the girl I thought was my best friend. I remember the mini photo shoot us gals had that morning, just being goofy as always. I remember the pile of dishes that cluttered the kitchen that we hadn’t gotten around to yet. I remember Dad in the garage working on the car. Mom got the call in the mid morning. The scream in her voice piercing my ears, filled with pain and fear. My brother had committed suicide.

Who knew you could feel such a darkness in your life, and for so long? Who knew how cold your heart could be? I found out. Just how much it would always hurt. How empty you could feel inside. It completely shattered my life-leaving me damaged, broken, and forever changed. The pain will be never ending and all consuming. Going through the teenage years is hard enough, let alone losing your brother within the earliest beginning of it all. It has impacted my every thought for a long time. It changed the way I viewed things, especially my own life and it’s worth.

You think the way you handle something like that is normal. You think hurting yourself is normal. You think it’s a pain you can control, nobody else can inflict it on you or take it away from you. It’s brutal, it’s the only pain that can give you escape. You’ll never forget how it felt having a razor to your skin. The burn may fade from your arm, but never from the depths of your heart. Those scars, they will never go away-forever marking the surface of my skin. Forever branding me as a once broken teenager. Joke’s on the world though. It’s been eight years and as an adult I’m still just as damaged and broken over this. It pierces the heart just as badly as the moment it entered into reality.

Things will never be the same. I will never look at Dad without remembering the third time I’ve ever seen him cry in my life. I will never forget all of the stupid things we did as kids. I’ll never let you live down the seventeen stitches scar across my right hip that was all thanks to your own brilliance. I will never miss you any less than I did the second things went wrong. I will never be able to tell you all of the things I need to say. I will never be able to talk it all out with you. You’ll never grow old with us, never make fun of Mom and Dad getting old-ER with the rest of us kids. You won’t get to see us all get married, or marry yourself. I’ll never get to tell you how important you are or how much we love you. Nobody else can play your part.

Nothing will make you appreciate your life and the happiness you have the opportunity to live out than losing the people close to you. I miss you. I wish you could’ve seen me grow into a woman, and drop the young girl act that gets so old. I know you watch over me everyday, and I’m going to be grateful forever for that. It’d just be so amazing to have you here. I’d give anything to be picked on by my brother just one more time.

I’m never going to understand; I mean I get it. That pain. The kind of pain where you feel like you’re heart is already ripped out of your chest and pulsing in your grip. So what’s the point of tricking yourself into thinking it’s still a part of you? Right? I get it, because years later I went through that pain. It suffocated me, it did more than consume me, it burrowed itself deep in my soul. It’s here, always, in the back of my mind. It’s easy to joke around about, everyone has their ’emo days’ right? It’s more than that though. It’s a never-ending, never understandable ache in your soul. Maybe that’s just what happens when you go through life. Maybe everyone has their pain tucked away so deep that the smiling reflection blinds the tears. Maybe we just get good at covering it up. I get it, but I’ll never understand. I know that God has a plan for everyone, I know God had a better plan for you than I could imagine. I get it, I promise I do. I just don’t understand why it had to be you.

Tell me the pain’s over. Tell me it’s alright. Tell me it’s better.