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Posts Tagged ‘love’

 

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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According to Wikipedia:  A buoy is a floating device that can have many purposes. It can be anchored (stationary) or allowed to drift with the sea wave.
A Lifebuoy is used as a life saving buoy designed to be thrown to a person in the water to provide buoyancy, usually has a connecting line allowing the casualty to be pulled to the rescuer.

Navigational Buoys aid pilotage by marking a maritime channel, hazard and administrative area to allow boats and ships to navigate safely. Some navigational buoys are fitted with a bell or gong, which sounds when waves move the buoy.

According to me, a buoy is a tender, loving Cable Guy who is there for me to cling to when the waters become rough, violent and non-navigational.thumb_COLOURBOX2224724

He saved me.  He stayed anchored and steadfast the night my mother died, holding me up… physically holding me up for almost 8 hours as she gasped and rattled out her dying breaths.  He carried me to bed, carried me to the funeral, carried me to the burial.  He kept my head above the waves as they crashed and threatened to overwhelm and drown me.  He loved me at my ugliest.  He kissed me at my dirtiest.

He never let me slip under.  He refused to allow me to succumb to the water.  He might float away for just a moment, but is always just…there,   holding the line taut.  Watching me for signs of distress.  Ready to rescue at the very moment I cry out.

It’s always a fear, for the rescuer, that the person they are holding up, the person they are rescuing, might pull them under with their dead weight, thrashing about or panic.  No matter how hard I pull and cling, no matter how panicked and desperate I become, he is always there, steadfast and buoyant.  Holding me up, keeping me breathing, rescuing me his one job for now.

My grief, my depression, my special needs children, my anger, my pain,  my past… all bricks around my neck.  They all work to pull me back under the salt and sea.  They are a constant pull, all dragging and pummeling  me and yet my face is never completely submerged because I have my life buoy, my floatation device, my buoyant and loving Cable Guy.   My rescuer.

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The days that have passed since my last blog have not been any easier, really.  However, I am not the sobbing, quaking, mess that I was last week.  What has changed? What has caused me to feel I could cope, rather than want to run, hide or die?

Well, for one, the Cable Guy finally told me he “loves me”.  Not in any huge flowery display of romance. Just a plain, simple statement that felt more real than anything I have ever felt before.  I laugh now, because it ONLY took him 35 months to say it, but he really has shown it in every way possible. Namely by not dumping my pathetic ass during these past few months of hell!

Another thing that happened, is I finally was fully vindicated.  My stepson now knows it was all his mother, that I never said those awful things about him, and I know he never said those things about me.  We are fine now. Still regard each other with caution and shyness, but better.  He knows I don’t wish to control him, I know he doesn’t want another “mother” but will always need a friend.

So… Am I better? Maybe.  Am I feeling better… somewhat.

I may be getting better at hiding, but I also may be healing.

I’m not allowing myself to talk to my mom. I’m not allowing myself to think of her, miss her, hate her… I am indifferent.  Seems to be the only way I can function normally.  Is it healthy? probably not, is it ok… for now I feel it is.

I can’t sit and dwell on my anger and expect to take care of an Autistic child and a mentally unstable teen! I have to keep some sort of wall up or I will be back to the mess I was in last week.

So, until I find a counselor, until I find a safe place to lay it all down, I am just going to keep shoveling the manure of “I’m Fine” and “Nevermind” over it…

Kinda stinks, but so does life.

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Burning….

I didn’t mean to touch.

 

Really I didn’t…..

 

I had arranged my invisibility comfortably around me and was melting into my corner. The only way you could sense me was from my radiating disquiet.

 

I didn’t mean to touch.

 

But I had been longing to…

 

So I brushed against him.

 

And the spark that leapt to my skin was a solar flare.

 

I stared in disbelief as it smouldered on my skin, spreading like a slow burn. I looked up and saw him looking back. He could see. He was watching me materialise, my outline flickering into being. The blue of his eyes reflecting back the flame that consumed me.

 

I was dry. Bone dry. It wouldn’t take much to consume me. spreading like a wildfire.

But this was no cleansing fire. No, this was a slow, torturous glow. Its insidious tongues licked their way up my arms, up my shoulders, up my neck and spine; I had no choice but to surrender.

 

It had grown quiet. Or maybe it was just the crackling in my ears that drowned out all other sound. I was an inferno. A slow, contained inferno. All I could see of him was his eyes, glittering in the dark.

 

Transfixed.

 

What was I to do? I could not hold off the inevitable. I didn’t want to anymore. So I closed my eyes and gave in completely.  Savoring the comfort of the embers burning between us.

 

Later, it was said the column of fire left an indelible mark on the ceiling. It was said the flames went everywhere at once. But all of that is mere legend.

 

In truth, he reached out a hand, gathered the puddle of me into his palm and tucked me safely away.

 

But still, I must say this:

 

I didn’t mean to touch.

 

Again….

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I have kept my heart closed. From the moment you said “goodbye” until the moment you
said “hello” again.  I kept my heart closed off and safe.  Oh, I tried to love
other people. I tried to heal and move on, only to wake from dreams of you;
tears pouring down my face and my heart on fire with the longing to see you
again.

One of the biggest arguments I had with my last boyfriend was
his accusations of me not ever being able to “open my heart, and allow myself to
love him”.

“Love me! Love Me!” He would cry… Begging me to say “I
love you” and cursing me when I wouldn’t.  But I could not feel love.
I felt nothing in my chest for that little man. He didn’t get me!  He didn’t smile at me
like I was the most beautiful woman in the room.  He didn’t laugh at all my
silly banter and play back with me. He did not love my children.   I was not happy with him.   No matter how hard I tried I was never happy with anyone else……  but you.

When will I get the nerve to tell you “I Love You?”

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