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I am sick.  I have been sick off and on for a very long time. Not really the kind of sick that you can definitively define with a diagnosis and move on… but with the kind of unusual achiness and the uncomfortable pain and swelling and feeling like a very old woman kind of sick.

Upon facing my mortality recently… I started thinking of my story.  My life. The things that have happened to me and the things I have overcome.

I wonder how much of these stories I should write down, and how many of these stories I should take to the grave locked securely in my old woman heart, for nobody else to ever know.

I wonder if in the telling of these stories to the only people that would care to know or read them, my children, if in reading these things they would change their opinion of me?

I was not a good person for many of my young adult years. I now know it was a response and a coping in part to my past child abuse, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to see written out the brutal and ugly things I did.

I was not a very nice girl.

Mainly I wonder how much of this tell-all would really matter to my children? Do they really need to know about all the men I slept with? Or all the drinking and stealing I did to escape the pain?

Do they even need to hear about my past? Do they need to know the terrible things my mom did to me? My mom, their grandmother, that they loved very much and can’t remember ever seeing this behavior. Do I really need to change their opinion on one of the best grandmothers ever?

There was a quote in the movie Titanic, something about a woman’s heart being a garden of secrets… my heart is a parched land filled with rocks and cacti, do they really need to see this ugliness that I have kept hidden from them so very very well for so very very long?

I think its best to use this history as a plot for a book, or for blog posts that will go unseen by 99% of the world… I think my children should remain protected from who I really have been, from who I really am at times. I don’t want them to see me as anything but a good, kind, loving mom. Because that is who I am now… and that’s all that matters.

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How do I blame you

For something you will never understand?

Accusations slip cautiously from my lips

only to land on misunderstanding ears.

Thoughts tumble thick and messy like birds battering inside my head

while your scant words lie stagnate and solitary in yours.

The words of love and affection which I hunger to hear

are stopped by the fortress walls built around your unyielding heart.

I silently scream for your attention, waving and imploring… making a disastrous scene

as you turn away your cotton filled ears and dive into your ocean of ambiguous retorts.

~c&f

 

 

 

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The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

— Fernando Pessoa

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Love is not something that always stays, no matter how hard you try to tether it, hold on to it, keep it safe, It can still slip through your fingers like sand.  Slipping slowly through these fractures of time and distance. The more you try to keep it from tumbling away… the faster it seems to flee, catching in the breeze, and disappearing into places unreachable.

This love that is leaving, is not the love that He has for me, it is, in fact  the love I have and feel for him that is slipping so surely and steadily away.

The longer he continues to place these restrictions on my heart, on my words, on me as a person, the more surly my love will slip away.  He does not mean to hurt me, he is never vicious in his dismissal. Ignorance and selfishness are his only true crimes.  His way of loving simply differs from mine. My words reach his ears in a foreign tongue that, no matter how hard he tries, he will never… quite… get.

Cracks and gaps are created by words he has said in thoughtless moments of haste.  Gorges of dark pain carve their way through my heart with every uncaring word.  Dry craters form with every dismissal, every change of subject, every day I spend in forced silence.

Pain should never be dismissed, no matter how trivial it may seem. The person that is in pain is trusting you enough to bear their secret, admit their weakness, voice their pain.  Once that admittance is out there it is the receiver’s responsibility to tenderly acknowledge that pain.

If the pain is not acknowledged, if that pain is mocked, dismissed, ignored or silenced… then the receiver has broken that sacred trust. Any further thoughts one might have in trusting this person, after this invalidation occurs, will simply be met with a resounding “BANG” in their head.  Doors are shut, mouth is sewn closed, and heart cracks become just a little more prominent.

Can these cracks be mended? I am sure they could, with the right apology, a certain amount of caring and, of course, no further damaging actions.  Is he willing to rectify these cracks? Is he willing to build up my trust in him? I don’t really see this as something he has even entertained, as of yet.  He has apologized.  He even felt bad for almost 20 minutes.  What more do I need?

It’s one thing to be dismissed by a friend, or a family member that keeps a distance. It is a whole other level of pain when that dismissal comes from the one person that supposedly knows you better than any other person on the earth.

When they do betray your heart, ignore your pain.. it is just as lethal as any poison.  Festering and killing you slowly from the inside out. Sure, you can build up a tolerance over time, but, who wants to build up a tolerance to something like that?

So, does this damaged heart start the daunting task of finding a whole new person, a person that may better understand them? I can’t do that, fear is a whole other problem in itself!

Maybe I can learn to repeatedly overlook this flaw of his. Simply, try to love my offender regardless, seeing as I have already invested so much time and know I love him. I will work diligently to not show this tender heart of mine. The heart that’s always silently cracking, beating irregular, pained, beats over and over and over again.

Can I stop owning up to the pain of this secret, inner struggle? Could I really stop giving a voice to my turmoil and eventually learn to keep mute at these times?
Could I really mirror his actions and simply learn to dismiss my pain, keep my words trite, and just live out my remaining years, comfortable and safe and in a veritable Love Coma, repeating to him… to myself… reiteratively with every beat of my aching heart, “I’m fine” “I’m fine”, “I’m fine.”

Broken-Heart-Backgrounds-Wallpaper

 

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“I Don’t Wanna Love Somebody Else”
(A Great Big World)

Oh, I built a world around you
Oh, you had me in a dream,
I lived in every word you said
The stars had aligned
I thought that I found you
And I don’t wanna love somebody else

Oh, we left it all unspoken
Oh, we buried it alive
and now it’s screaming in my head
Oh, I shouldn’t go on hoping
Oh, that you will change your mind
and one day we could start again
Well I don’t care if loneliness kills me
I don’t wanna love somebody else

Oh, I thought that I could change you
Oh, I thought that we would be the greatest story that I tell
I know that it’s time to tell you it’s over
But I don’t wanna love somebody else

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A person does not simply become friends with a teenage boy.
I am finding this fact out the hard way.
It is harder, still, to rebuild a relationship that was previously crushed and broken when that same boy was just a small, powerless child.
I have struggled for 3 years now, to try to rebuild a sort of friendship, at least, with the CG’s son.
I have tried to be a friend to him, be involved, lavish him with gifts, take him places, remind his father to do things for and with him, reach out to his mother when he needed her, ask for his help, love him… mainly love him. But, non of it has worked thus far.
I realize that I seem as useful, to him, as… a throw pillow. I take up space on his couch, I am just as noticeable and important, which is nada… and if I were to just disappear one day, I would never be missed. He might look around for a second, noticing there is something different about the room… but never really know what it was…
Yup, I am a throw pillow.
I wonder if someday he will ever understand that I never stopped loving him, the entire time CG and I were apart, I never stopped thinking of him as my son. I never stopped thinking of him, crying over the loss of him… I even got in touch with the CG, initially, that first time… because I really missed his son?!?! Little did I know….
No, he probably wont ever realize these things, because he will never care to hear them… and if he does decide to be friends with me, I am sure his mother will be waiting in the shadows, ready to strike down any good thoughts he ever has towards me.
I still blame her.
I still blame her for those damaging lies she told him, no matter how small, they were still malignant in their damage.
And, I still blame the CG.
I blame him for not standing up for me, for not setting his son straight on how I feel about him, on not defending me to his ex-wife, for not teaching his son manners and respect towards me.
I blame him for not knowing me well enough to know without a doubt I could never say those things about a boy I have loved as much as my own children!
And, I blame myself.
I blame myself for being so completely scared of a child, a teenager… that I have to secretly write all these feelings on a blog he will never see.
I blame myself for missing those crucial 5 years with him, no matter it was not my actions that kept us apart.
I blame my mental instability for forcing me into silence, rather than sitting him down and baring my true self to him.
I am as useful as a throw pillow, to him.
That sums me up perfectly.

imagesCA179EZP

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“A mighty pain to love it is,
And ’tis a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.”
~Abraham Cowely

Loving the right person at the wrong time, having the wrong person when the time is right, and finding out you love someone right after that person walks out of your life…
Sometimes, you think you’re already over a person, But when you see them smile at you, you’ll suddenly realize that you’re just pretending to be over them just to ease the pain of knowing that they will never be yours again…

For some, they think that letting go is one way of expressing how much you love the person…
Some are afraid to see the one they love being held by someone else… Most relationships tend to fail not because the absence of love – love is always present. It’s just that one was being loved too much and the other was being loved too little…

As we all know the heart is the center of the body but it beats on the left. Maybe that’s the reason why the heart is not always right…
Most often, we fall in love with the person we think we love but to only discover that for them, we are just for past times, while the one who truly loves us remains either a friend or a stranger…

So here’s a piece of advice: Let go when you’re hurting too much. Give up when love isn’t enough, and move on when things are not like before… For sure, there is someone out there who will love you even more…”

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