To love

Love is a topic that is both completely simple and immensely complicated in my life.

I will try to break it down…

Growing up, love was a double edged sword. A weapon, most of the time. At least, in my immediate home.

A few people…namely, my grandma and grandpa, seemed to love me with no strings attached. It was wonderful, and their home became my most favorite place to be.

Embrace

………………………………………………………………….

Hug me closely. 

Hold me. 

Smell my hair and cherish me.

I am yours. 

………………………………………………………………….

The world is not a perfect place. There is not one person in it that can claim complete and utter perfection.

Oh, there are plenty who will try…and there are those who do…but we are all imperfect beings, fallible and flawed.

Where does the hole come from?

For months now, I have been writing about the gaping hole that I have in my chest. The ache emanates from the very center of my being…

Hurting. Wanting.

I have been very frustrated, as I have tried and tried to find different ways to fill this hole.

Yet, nothing has really worked. 

Dear Little Girl

Dear little girl,

I have been thinking of you a lot lately. Of your sadness. Your loneliness.

I realized, I need to tell you something.

Thank you. 

Letting go is hard. Why?

A couple of weeks ago I realized that this journey through all of my past trauma has started to define me. I have become kind of focused on what happened to me.

I haven’t been able to let it go.

This feels like a bit of a conundrum for me–I desperately want to let it go. Sometimes, NOT having any of this pain, grief, anxiety and, instead, finding happiness, relief, and comfort is all I can think about.

Other times, I can only think about the fact that it all happened to begin with.

About the last month

I’ve written over the last month that I am having a really hard time. I’ve been down…dark, and depressed. I’ve been fighting bouts of anxiety and nervousness, and stomach issues that are a result of all of it, but also make all the stress and nervousness worse.

I have been feeling trapped. And stuck. And hopeless.

This is how it feels.

I lay in bed at night, hoping that you will feel the aching pain drifting off of my body and wrap me in your arms. No words…just you and me, breathing as one. Me, crying in your arms, rather than alone on my pillow.

You don’t come.