Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Realization #1

I miss the idea of you but I don’t miss the things I held in.
Like the happiness that was kept down
low because you were having a bad day?
I never told you but I felt guilty if I wasn't battling my depression
while sitting there watching you with yours.
But I do miss the smiles and laughter
even if they were forced because you have such a great smile.
What I don't miss is how you never believed me
when I told you that or when I said that you were beautiful.
And that I loved you which I didn't say often because you
stopped saying it back to me.

I don't miss laying in bed next to you, wanting to touch you
but keeping to myself because I was afraid you'd reject me.
Why was it that you needed to have a drink in order to touch me?
Because that's something I don't miss either.
I don't miss all the apologies I had to say
even though they were needed.
But I was always apologizing for the wrong things.
I lied and kept things in my pocket with loose change
and kept shoving them down

That wasn't right. You deserved better.

I mostly lied about who I was because I knew you
wouldn’t like who I really am.
And because I loved the way I thought you loved me.
Or the me I pretended to be.
And that wasn’t right either.
We weren’t right.
I lied about that too.
The truth is that we should’ve been a moment.
Drunk, caught in the rain.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

My Haven

I stood at the edge of the beach where the water meets the sand and creates an in-between; neither in nor out, coming nor going, ocean nor beach. And that's where I was. Slowly sinking into the earth, becoming a fixture swaying with the breeze. Drawing the positive energy in, deep down, and exhaling the negative out. Soon the sounds of children began to fade away and I was left with the symphony of waves being vulnerable and breaking into the arms of the sand. The smell of salt danced away from the chaos and found refuge with me, in my nose and on my skin so you could taste it later.

I could feel your hands on me. Your fingers working with the breeze to tease me, goosebumps erupting on my skin. I could feel your lips on me where my neck and shoulder meet: the in-between. And I almost dropped to my knees into an incoming (or outgoing) wave. But you held me up, kept me standing yet causing me to melt. I felt your lips part next to my ear, your voice whispering, "my sweet...you are beautiful. You are strong. And you are unconditionally loved."

Slowly, I brought myself back. The noises of children grew louder and the chill of the waves hit my legs with conviction. I opened my eyes and stared out to sea, drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded my head. Yeah...life can be beautiful. And I am okay.