.he wrote me love notes.

He wrote me love notes and pushed them through the cracks
between our beds and into my heart.
He made me coffee in the mornings like a promise each day would be better than the last
not because bad days didn't exist but because we started each one together.
He held me close and kissed my face, like he couldn't believe I was real
when really it was him I couldn't fathom was reality.
His hands trembled with nerves as he played me love song after love song
each one only feeling like it could scratch the surface of what we had.
He pulled me closer as we slept like he could somehow pull us into one person,
our bodies creating what our hearts already had.
He loved me fearlessly and fully

...until he didn't.


He wrote me rarely and formally
with hours between each superficial text.
He made coffee in the mornings alongside many other tasks that came before me
because each day started without a thought of us.
He rarely touched me, except to hold my hand when we went walking
his heart and his mind so far away from mine in this new reality.
His hands grew strong as he played love songs alone,
and their words felt foreign and flat.
He slept far away, even when in the same bed
his body creating a wall between me and his heart.
His fear strangled and suffocated our love

...until it was weak.


I wrote him love notes deep in my heart
and pushed them as far as I could into his.
I skipped the coffee and filled the cup instead with all of my effort
trying to start each morning choosing him.
I reached out for his touch, gently stroking his hair or nuzzling his neck
even when I could feel no gentleness in return.
I sang love songs in his presence and invited him to join me
though I knew it would take time to win those words back.
I slept open and vulnerable, my heart cracked wide
as it never gave up trying to scale his wall.
I loved him fearlessly and fully
even when it hurt
even when it felt hopeless

...and I still do.

.this one goes out to the one i love.

Dear,

Yesterday, I was proud. I was proud of myself for holding space for my feelings without allowing them to take me over.  I was proud of myself for holding your needs in equal balance with my own, no one more or less valid and important and real.  I was proud of myself for finding ways within my own control to mediate my anxieties and self-soothe.  I was proud of myself for taking control of my responses and my insecurities and creating a safe space for myself to feel my way through them.  I was proud of myself for seeking out and accepting support.  I was proud of how all of this made me feel calm and safe, and allowed me to support and encourage you.  I was proud of how much I have grown.  I was proud of the steps I've taken from where I used to be.  I was proud of the results of that work.  I was so very excited for you to feel that pride, to be proud of it too, to see how I have listened, learned, embraced, embodied, grown.  How much better these situations could be because of that work.  How I have done these things not only for myself - though it would be untrue to claim I have not benefited - but for our team.  For our partnership.  For our little family.  For us.

Today, I feel angry.  I feel angry that you don't change.  I feel angry that you disrespect me when I am helpless to respond.  I feel angry that you push me beyond my boundaries even when I am tender from expanding them.  I feel angry that I feel like the only team mate in this team.  I feel angry that I eventually reacted, despite multiple attempts to remain grounded.  I feel angry that you chose not to take one of the opportunities I handed you to be my team mate too.  I feel angry that this will be turned into a fight about all the wrong things.  I feel angry that this will be my fault.  I feel angry that I keep trying.

Today, I feel sad.  I feel sad that patterns repeat themselves, even when I try a new approach.  I feel sad that you aren't able or willing to support us through hard times, and can only think of yourself.  I feel sad that you can't celebrate in my growth with me.  I feel sad that you don't hold me as I hold you, and navigate this by my side.  I feel sad that you chose selfishness over my feelings.  I feel sad that this isn't the first time.  I feel sad that I don't believe this would be the last time.  I feel sad that all of the things I was proud of yesterday have been overshadowed.  I feel sad that I feel helpless.  I feel sad that I have no other words than those I've used over and over again.  I feel sad that you can't hear me.  I feel sad that maybe you just won't hear me.  I feel sad that I feel sad.  I feel sad that I keep trying.

Today, I feel alone.

abyss.

lost in the abyss of loving you
but how much of me is left here too?
how much of me is taking over you?
am I asking too much
for you to be lost in here with me too?

only one.

one day I will realize what I am worth and what I deserve.
one day I will have the strength to demand it.
one day I will have the courage to wipe the rest away.
#oneandonly #worthy #fightforyourrighttohappy

.spring forward, don't fall back.

A lot of feels going on in the world right now. With the first official day of summer coming up on Monday, I feel reflective. This spring has felt like a tumultuous time.
Just over a year ago, my whole life came crashing down around me. My girlfriend of 4 years left me (twice), I was close to broke and in debt, I lived alone in an apartment I couldn't afford, and worked a part-time job that left me feeling bored, unsatisfied, and irritable. I had finished my degree, didn't have many friends, and all I wanted to do was sit in the dark alone and wait for it all to pass, or end, whichever came first. "At least it's spring?" people would often tentatively suggest, but the rebirth of the world only made me feel that much more alone in my dark and sad state. Worst of all, I was about to enter my 30's feeling like I was in the worst place I had been in years.
Slowly the tears stopped flowing so freely, and gradually I began to surface and go outside. I started roller-blading (so 90's, I know) along the river path, and would be out for 3 or 4 hours at a time. The sun, the sounds, the sweat all felt cleansing and purifying, like I was slowing rinsing out the pain, the doubt, and the insecurities left behind after heartbreak. I began to feel myself again. I smiled more freely, laughed a real belly laugh, sang along to dorky pop songs, danced in my kitchen. My weird came back. My light shone through. I started to feel curious, and whole. I felt as though the world was my oyster, and even if I still felt sad sometimes, it made me appreciate the joys of life that much more. I applied for, and got, a new job, which inspired and invigorated me. My favourite fairytale couple got married in a perfect fairytale ceremony, and I had the honour of taking the stress of coordination off their shoulders and watching them freely enjoy their perfect day. My own fairytale love story got a new kick-start, but in a much more adult and mature context. I felt like a super hero. I felt like this was the start of the rest of my life, and when my 30th birthday came, I couldn't have smiled bigger. Nothing could have brought me down that day... I was on top of the world.
I share this history because I am hoping it will help me to contextualize the current spring. The top of the world leaves a long way to fall, and I have spent the rest of this year doing just that. My fairytale turns out to be more of a soap opera, I'll have moved twice this spring by the end of this month, and my longest friendship has met it's end. I've lost my light, I've discovered painful truths, and my blinders have been removed. I've been hurt and hurt myself, I've felt the desire to not wake up, I've believed I could never be good again. I've cried until there were no more tears to fall, and felt like I was losing grip on my self-control. I've felt my whole world come crashing down on me for the second spring in a row, in an avalanche that makes the last one look like snowflakes. I have lost track of my own reality - one that was so firmly based in an unbreakable bond that I gave everything to maintain. That bond broke, and I felt myself dangling over an abyss of uncertainty... of who I am, what I want, what I believe, what I love, who I can turn to, who understands me. How many of my memories and truths are based in reality and how many are based in this newly exposed chasm?
It feels insurmountable at times. But just like last spring, that feeling is receding. And at an alarming rate. I feel free in a way... free to reinvent myself, rediscover myself, rebuild myself based in something already loving and real, instead of in a belief that it will one day be those things, if I just hold on a little longer, a little tighter. I smile often. I have re-engaged. I get excited, I volunteer. I socialize, I make plans, I rekindle friendships. I flirt. I feel pretty. I feel interesting, unique, inspiring and inspired. I feel positive and happy. As I pull the wool from my eyes and see my past reality for the first time with clear vision, I can feel my light coming back. Glimpses of it here and there. A joking exchange here. A flirty conversation there. An inspired debate, a philosophical discussion. I feel it shimmering through, just as I did on those days along the river, at the fairytale wedding, on my 30th birthday. The difference is this time, I am finding it within myself. This makes it resurface so much faster and so much stronger; it's harder and harder to dim out.
When the tragedy in Orlando happened, I was shaken. I felt it deep within my core and it rattled something that would normally have come loose. But this new reality I have found myself in, this new glowing discovery, has allowed me to feel that deep pain and loss in a different way. I feel pushed to action instead of scared deeper into my darkness. I feel vocal, and passionate, and empowered not to give into fear and hate. I want to LOVE the pain out of them, because that is the fastest way I have found to heal myself.
I see now that the only true unbreakable bond is between me and myself. No one can threaten that. No one can take that away. And that is where our reality, our truth, our light truly comes from. So yes! At least it's spring. My own personal 30th year spring, where the rebirth of the world is mirrored in the rebirth of me. I'm new and fresh and shiny and open.

I'm free.

the best policy.

Sometimes I'm struck by how hard it seems to be to say what we really mean.  The intentions are there, but when it comes time to actually form the words and formulate the sentence, our bravery fades. Fear steps in and dilutes the honesty, the feeling, the meaning behind our words; we sugar-coat and downplay our thoughts and our truths, to save face or protect feelings.  This steadfast protection of our vulnerability stunts our ability to connect, to truly test the waters of relationships, and find bonds between our authentic selves.  It halts the development of our morals, the discovery of our core values, and the creation of our individual identities.  Fear isolates us, forming a prison borne of what-I-should-have-said walls, white-lies-I-told floors, and how-I-really-felt ceilings.

How do we break free from this socially ingrained habit?  How do we both practice radical honesty and also be open to receiving it from others?  I don't mean in a "no offence, but" format; this is not an excuse to be critical or cruel without consequence.  I think our next great revolution needs to be the ability to give and accept honest feelings and words with kindness, vulnerability, and an open mind.  This would serve to remove the energy from hate, the power from secrets, and the questions from our minds.  If loving honesty becomes the norm, think of all the anxieties that can be quelled, when we no longer need to search for the intentions behind each others words; they're all right there, intentions laid bare, in everything we do and say.  When our minds are free of the business of deciphering each other, the things we can focus on and accomplish could be life-changing, for ourselves and the world.

the final frontier.

Sometimes the hardest part is not admitting what we need, but forcing ourselves to take it, even when it isn't what we want.

special treatment.

It seems that there is something about me that is really difficult to love.
People like me, sure.
But something makes them need convincing in order to make it any further.
I'm tired of having to talk people into loving me.
Having to talk them into even giving it a chance.
That doesn't make me feel special.
It doesn't make me want to make them feel special either.
I've already spent all my energy trying to convince you to give me a chance, making myself feel less and less desirable and special, and then I need to make you feel even more special on top of that?
How can you not already feel special when I've worked so hard to make you stay?
How can you not see that it drains my energy to fight, to stay positive, to pretend the hurtful things you do and say roll off my back like water from a duck?
What is it about me that makes it so hard to love me?
I want someone to be afraid of losing me... Not terrified of having me.
I want to feel special. Loved. Important. Irreplaceable. Unique. Respected. Appreciated. Understood. Forgiven. Sexy. Listened to. Interesting. Fun. Comfortable. Safe.
Special.

sweater weather.

Sometimes the sadness takes over and all you can do is hide the way we did as kids
Build a fort inside your mind filled with all the memories that haunt your heart
Surround yourself with all the things you can't live without
Like guilt and regret and second thoughts
What if's, could be's, and should have done's

Slip on the melancholy like an old thick sweater and hunker down for a long cold winter

Thinking of you makes my heart sing and sob, ebb and flow, cool and burn

A never-ending roller coaster sailing effortlessly and tirelessly through a life that doesn't know how to live

With or without you, or this darkness, this confusion, uncertainty

On and on until I die, an endless cycle of missed opportunity, broken hearts, empty souls, and meaningless existence

Tethered forever to you

And this sadness

Inside my haunted fort

Wearing my melancholy sweater

The one with my heart stitched tightly on its sleeve.

heartbreak.

You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.
-Rumi