dirty laundry

i met with my mentor yesterday for a few hours over iced tea, which was ironically, or maybe not ironically, called "happiness".
we talked about things i've talked a lot about before; friendships, relationships, figuring out who you are, etc., but never have i understood these things we talked about in this way. she gets what it's like to be me, because now as a married 30-something who used to be a single 20-something like me, she gets its. she gets the heartache of being single. the confusion in self worth. she gets it, she was there once too.
she explained things in a way where i realized i had always felt them too, but i never knew how to explain it, or really never knew where the feelings were coming from:

the feeling i would get after talking to a boy that was just a friend. a really close friend. it has always been so natural for me to go deep in discussion, to want to fix things, to help people with their problems, and in turn also tell them mine. i would tell them everything. secrets and desires spilled out, continuously uprooting myself for them.
and the next day i would wake up exhausted and empty and gross.
i would become so invested in this person, whoever it was at the time, and them in me and the next day i would just feel gross...like an emotional hangover. i never knew that feeling of exhaustion would later turn into regret. regret that i gave too much the night before. too much of my mind, too much of my heart, too much of me.

after tea with her yesterday, i went home and took a shower and still i felt dirty. i let the water fall over me and around me, as i tried and tried to scrub this feeling off my body. i felt not my own. i feel not my own. like there are parts of me scattered all over town, hiding in the hearts of men who didn't want me, but acted like they needed me... oh the danger in feeling needed... pieces of me i couldn't get back even if i tried.
i feel like everybody elses' but mine. and the worst part was that no one took it from me, i gave it away. i gave in to the lie that i was special, that i was his "favorite girl". whoever he was at the time, i always believed it. i found immense comfort and complacent worth in being someones "favorite girl." i always believed them, so i willingly gave myself away.
i feel dirty and used and exhausted. like dirty laundry; worn and dirtied and thrown, no longer useful and in desperate need of washing.

i'm exhausted from being the stand-in.

the girl always used for my mind, my time, my energy, my words, my strength.
wrung out and left to dry over and again by the men in my life who have left after having found the girl to replace the stand-in with. a girl who gave everything i had to give, but the difference was that they wanted to kiss this girl as well.

so right now i feel dirty and empty and exhausted and used. and i think that's a really okay place to be in; totally empty with nothing left to give, and in turn fully reliant on the holy spirit of god to fill me back up with His grace and redeeming love. 

"trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge. -psalm 62:8

....pour my heart out to Him, for God is my refuge"


-S

pieces not peace

 *written circa 2011*

--to you--

all the things i’ve thought but will never say

all the things i thought then and now, about you, about me

the truth--my truth

by now, the seasons have changed a few times over

faces you never thought would, faded

like yours

but even so, my eyes haven’t once wept

and then there’s you

you, who knows every.inch.of.me

well now I guess ‘knew’would make more sense

if there is any way to make sense of it at all

you know, i wanted to go there, then

i think

i know i wanted to want to go there, with you

i thought and thought and thought until my mind ached for solutions i wouldn’t ever find

for feelings i wasn’t ever sure about

but i was sure i wanted to be sure--about you--about me--about all of it

and i wasn’t

if that makes sense

if there is any way to make sense of any of this at all

i’m no longer shaky like i used to be

tied up in uncomplacent knots, thinking of what i’ll say the next time i see you

remembering and replaying what i wish i had said the last time i saw you

wondering if there is anything worth saying now at all

it’s harder for me to breathe now though

--so there’s the tradeoff i suppose--

it’s like i’m only allowed short breaths, the tight-chest-but-slow-heartbeat/hot-tears-in-your-eyes kind of breaths

the kind that never quite satisfies you, like you can’t seem to find enough air

and there’s never enough air because i can’t breathe deeply anymore with this hole in my heart.

the hole that used to be where you always were

and even though i’m full aware the heart is pumping blood and not storing emotions like we’ve been fooled to believe--that area where my heart lies in my chest--it aches at the thought of your absence

a space i never knew was there until it was empty

until you were gone

i feel suffocated knowing that i don't have all of myself anymore

that you still have that piece of me with you

even now, when it has been so long

i’m mad at you for that

i’m mad at me for that

is it ever hard for you to breathe?

was it ever hard for you at all?

did i have a piece of you too?

these questions i've wondered, and fear i always will

and still every time i walk away from you, it's as if i stayed

as if i had never left

there’s a piece of me where it shouldn't be

just pieces -- and no peace


sincerely,

S