"i made a promise such a long time ago that i would take in experiences-- all of them, 

so i could tell the people about them and maybe save them, but it gets so tiring.

i try to take in all the experiences for everybody, letting anyone say anything to me. 

and i realized i'm not different. i want what everyone wants. i want all the things.

i just want to be happy."

-girls, hbo

where i find you

i don’t recognize myself

tinted green of jealousy and physical ailment from my selfishness and inability to simply be happy for others
self-loathing so strong my body aches in rejection

i’m often struggling to feel happy at all

where i lack happiness, i lack in compassion and a listening ear

my saving grace has been reliance on the one who has grace enough to save a wreck like me

and a wreck like me really needs saving quite often these days

and out of His grace I find myself no longer wondering, “why is this happening?” instead i ask Him, “what are you trying to teach me with this? what can i learn here?”

i find myself on my knees all of the time. praying for a sign, for an answer, for something

calling out to God for something i can understand

for something that makes sense

for something i can reason with

but reason to me is not reason to Him

this holiday season was of particular difficulty.

overrun by things of least importance, the hustle and bustle and neglect of what really matters, i find myself wishing i could turn back time and do it all over again.

recreate the memories now engrained in time

make new the things i know i can’t change as much i wish i could

but again, i ask “what are you trying to teach me, God?”

i will wait in silence. with any shred of obedience and patience i can find within myself, and where i fail, i will lean on His unending grace with steadfast hope.

for a foolish sinner that is me, i have a God who perfects unconditional love.

-S 

words and their keepers

he carried the words "i'm sorry" gravely upon his shoulders
a burden so heavy. like the chains of a guilty prisoner.

as the words released from his tongue he was at once renewed.
the dimmed light in his eyes had lifted.
changed colors, changed direction.
shifting focus from her to another.

freed from the words and weight they carried, he went on and they found a home upon the shoulders of a girl.
the girl whom validated the weight of those words, whose ears ached for the apology.
a girl who had never learned to let go of any of the words he had ever spoken to her.
and now as he carries on, she carries them on her shoulders.
a burden not meant to be carried, not by her or by anyone.

he would leave his words on her,
because he was man who never kept his word.
so she became a girl who tried to keep them for him.
she became a girl who no longer believed in words and the weight of them.

so the "i'm sorry" and the "i love you" and the "i miss you" became just words that became her.
it was her cross to bear. it was all she had left of him.
because he was a man who never kept his word.


-S

“and that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say, they think everyone else does too.” Khaled Hosseini 

for the moments i feel faint

some nights i hug a pillow so i can fall asleep.
sometimes, just for a moment, i feel the pillow holding me back.

i forget often how i am rarely ever touched by someone with affection, affirmation, protection.
and i'm reminded of that; usually when i'm needing it most, in the times i find myself quietly and anxiously searching for a pillow to squeeze.

every night i listen to the same song while i'm lying in bed,
only loud enough for me to hear.
the repetition comforts me

like the swelling of the oceans waves, lulling back and forth with no end. 

there is a blessed assurance in knowing it will always come back.

i listen to it every night. it's like my secret song.
it holds memories and thoughts, honesty and tears of the nights prior and of the nights to come

sometimes i think getting through the winter is the toughest feat, as beautiful she is.
realizing the lonely; clothing your bones in the warmth you've created for yourself and braving the cold.
this battle is heavy laden and not for the faint of heart


-S


link to the song i mentioned: the light -- the album leaf

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

part one

and all at once the ground below my feet was gone.

i am tired
i am sad
i am empty

and i won't try to be happy

-S

this dream is over

i could feel it when i drove up
when i got home
something changed
something felt different
i felt different

it was gonna be today

i didn't ask for it
i knew it was there

she handed it to me anyway
i looked at it and there it was
not the way i wanted it to look
not the way it was supposed to look
small, thin & disappointing
i already knew

it got passed along, person to person
until there was only silence left
the silence that comes from pity
from not knowing quite what to say
what do you say to someone who's had their dream end before it even started?

dream another dream. this dream is over.

i was going to leave
i was going to get out
i was going to leave

i guess this is what disappointment feels like
what sadness feels like
what broken feels like
what starting over feels like

dream another dream. this dream is over.

-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

one of those nights

tonight was one of those nights

the kind of night where sleep sounds impossible

the kind of night where your mind is so pre-occupied, you don't even hear someone calling for you

the kind of night where you can feel your heart and stomach knot, leaving a mess you'll have to untangle sooner or later

the kind of night where your hand echoes hours later--still, small pulses--like it didn't want to forget the feeling of holding his--and if you just close your eyes, it's almost as if he never let go

the kind of night where you know better than to think anything of the things he says and does but you just.can't.help.it.

the kind of night where you know better than to let yourself go there but you just.can't.help.it.

the kind of night where you wish you would have let yourself feel those feelings before, so they wouldn't have come back when you least expected them to

the kind of night where he won't leave you alone--and you don't want him to--but when he does, you feel yourself become another memory

the kind of night where you just drive, anywhere. just so you can feel in control of something. and you don't even realize there was no music on the whole time.

the kind of night where your chest gets tight and the only thing that can repair your bruised heart is a hug...the hug-me-so-tight-that-i-can't-breathe-anymore kind of hug

the kind of night where the balance between naivety and realism is exhausting

the kind of night where you wish you were enough

enough for him, enough for yourself

you know those kind of nights?
tonight was one of those nights


-S