Tuesday, October 27, 2015

October 27, 2015

Like a tidepool. 
Silent and teeming with life.
 Glittering in the coastal sun
Rushing madness when the water rises
Desolation and renewal when it retreats 
Bound by the pull of the sun and moon
Until one day after a thousand years, rocks and sand and sticks of us
Dam the gates
And the water seeps in and out 
more slowly
Still glittering in the sun 
Still teeming with life 
Still bound by the pull of the sun and the moon
Steady ebb and flow 
No destruction
No devastation
Just life. Thriving unquestioningly
Just be. 

Sunday, October 25, 2015

October 25, 2015

It's time again to do the thing I'm most afraid of.  It's time to let you go out into the wild black stars and watch you fade from me. It's time to remember myself and look fear, and loss, and pain in the eye and make them my friends. It's time to embrace the things I try to run from.  I've gone back somehow to believing that if I suffer enough I will be worthy of the love I have. And that's not true.  Sharing your pain, immersing myself in it, bathing in it, only feeds the suffering.  It's time to open myself up to the impermanence and let it be part of my story. 
This is something I can do. I can breathe. I can paint.  I can write. I can revisit pieces of us when I see you in my everyday life. In your absence I will still love you. I will still feel wrenching love and compassion. I will still sleep in your t shirt. I will think of you when I put on the coat I bought to wear over the dress I picked you up in at the airport last winter. I will still hear you in the songs we played. I can have those things. And I can have forever the empty hole that losing you leaves.  That belongs to me.  
But what I cannot have is the bandaid of your presence when it isn't right. When you're not ready. When you're not fully immersed in love and in life and truly attuned to the dance our souls can do. I have to let you go find that in whatever way you must. I have to have the courage to let my heart break so that it doesn't keep you captive.  
I have to be brave enough to face it. It's the best thing I can do for you, and for me. I'd love to pack a bag for you to take along.  Filled with snacks and love and notes that say 'remember to love yourself as much as I love you'. But you have to go it alone, and so do I. Maybe one day we'll make it back to each other. 

As for my long journey, it's about to happen.  I am about to unleash myself on the world in some new way and dig down to the bottom of despair until I've broken to the other side of it. I'm going looking for me and all my bravery and all the things I can do alone.  I will find them. And I will never settle for a love that doesn't explode. I will never settle for company when I'm looking for the fusion of my soul to another.  And that may mean being alone. 

The threads that tied my heart to your sill never weather. They'll never break. But they have to be long enough now to venture out alone and find out all the things we tried to tell each other for ourselves.  I hope I never let go of the desire to see you again.  But now, I let go of you.  

Sunday, October 11, 2015

October 11, 2015

It's never been about who is right and who is wrong. Who is good enough, who needs more work, who is better or worse.  We are every one of us blinding disasters, trying to put one foot and one word in front of the other and sidestep the land mines in our psyches. 

What it's about is an active love that doesn't give up. A love that doesn't give up when the shine is off the penny.   And I'll find that.  Because I believe in it and somewhere there is someone who will see all the beauty in me that you did, and they'll believe the same thing. That stumbles aren't defeat, that disagreements aren't fundamental endings, and that digging down deep and hard to mend the roots is what makes the flowers bloom. 

You are worth that kind of fight. I hope you fight that hard for yourself.  
I am worth it, too. And I thank you for not allowing me to accept any less. 

Saturday, October 10, 2015

October 9, 3am

Tonight I made a White Russian with Samoa cookie creamer.  And I couldn't drink it. I couldn't even get it to my lips, and I cried. I cried for you and for my child and for everything that happens in a lifetime that leaves us unable to do the right thing at the right time. I cried so goddamn hard I couldn't drive my car and I felt everything. Everything for me and for you and all the hurts and near misses and almost but not quites. For all the days I can't get out of bed and all the days I can't stay in bed and all the days of running down to the water on the beach we will miss. And it felt like hell coming out of my eyes, burning and aching and losing. I can't explain what it felt like to feel all of that pain and stop storing it in my heart and my body. But as it came out I thanked you. I thanked you for ending something I never could. I would have stayed forever, trying to make a world where your words would never snap. Trying to fit into the holes in you. 

For tonight, I'll take the good things with me. And open my hands to the universe and stop holding on to the rest. Some nights I'll burn out in tears. And others I'll just let it go in a puff of smoke. 

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

October 7, 2015

I wanted to love you perfectly, exactly as you were. Your darkness, your fatigued spirit, your failures and the dimness of your spark that would fly into flagrant, bursting light when ideas spilled out of your churning mind.  I wanted to sit still in the midst of your storm. I wanted to show you how I could. I fell  in the end. Wanting instead to show you how perfect I could be, how I might save you, stumbling  on my ego, I failed and failed again. Instead of loving you in the moment you exist in, I tried to be right.  I tried to light the spark, to show you my way, to possess you rather than to stand fast amidst your suffering.  I tried to save you. I tried to hand you power you already possess. I tried to set fire to something not ready to burn.  The only way left to love you is to let go. Of my pride. Of my fears of losing all you were to me. Of the desperate hope that somehow I could be enough.  Let you burn on your own and tend my own fire. I hope tears don't smother my pyre.  And I hope you find, somewhere in the vastness of the pitch black, something worth burning for. 

October 7, 2015

I wanted to love you perfectly, exactly as you were. Your darkness, your fatigued spirit, your failures and the dimness of your spark that would fly into flagrant, bursting light when ideas spilled out of your churning mind.  I wanted to sit still in the midst of your storm. I wanted to show you how I could. I fell  in the end. Wanting instead to show you how perfect I could be, how I might save you, stumbling  on my ego, I failed and failed again. Instead of loving you in the moment you exist in, I tried to be right.  I tried to light the spark, to show you my way, to possess you rather than to stand fast amidst your suffering.  I tried to save you. I tried to hand you power you already possess. I tried to set fire to something not ready to burn.  The only way left to love you is to let go. Of my pride. Of my fears of losing all you were to me. Of the desperate hope that somehow I could be enough.  Let you burn on your own and tend my own fire. I hope tears don't smother my pyre.  And I hope you find, somewhere in the vastness of the pitch black, something worth burning for.