Love, Love, Love

Seeing where he is, watching the death in his eyes, and the forgotten grasp of reality breaks the very heart beating here deeply set in this cage of ribs. Watching this abuse is like watching someone place a gun in their mouth, pointing upward hoping not to miss the brain. A single bullet in the chamber and as the trigger is pressed back, a dichotomy occurs: one wishes for life and yet at the same time for death. Suicide. Reaching out trying to pull it out of their hands; you wrestle them. But they take you out at the knees, inflamed in rage and passionate defeat. And in the corner you blend with the wall and you whisper, defeated by the brokenness that abounds about your whole person, “please, please don’t do this.” But nothing works. Nothings are the worst of all. The whip crashes on their back, as the slave driver pushes them forward, pushes them farther, pushes them deeper. They fall, fall, fall. They crash head first into the ground, deep under the weight of its control. A slave of the poison. And nothings fall around them, deep inside of them; nothings. It drives them. It keeps them alive [dead]. The driving force is not that they desire to live, that they desire a future, or that they desire to find purpose; but that the voices of doubt are put to rest, the depression squelched, the pain pushed aside. As the flood of euphoria hits moments are nothing. Moments that cause time to pass, stand still. Floating and entranced by this new found “Eden” today and tomorrow, everything seems to be this poison. The slave driver offers hope. Offers freedom from the pain of worthlessness and the nothings that create a urgency where death is more appealing. But this “hope”, this “freedom” is followed by pain, by destruction, by fear and worthlessness leading further toward demise. Wreaking havoc in your mind, your soul, and your spirit. The slave driver: instant pleasure, followed by utter desolation and a low, lower than ever before. The crystallized version of life, the powdered form of living. The deeply inhaled hope for amnesia.

I have been privileged with a really hard past. I know, privileged, right? I watched things and experienced things that have torn me apart. That have shattered my soul. When the destruction and those things were occurring, I didn’t look at them as a privilege. Life has taught me that death, no matter how appealing it may seem, is not worth it. I have walked and wandered in the wilderness. I have touched the other side and lived deep within it. I risked everything; my life and my future. I watched death occur and couldn’t stop it. I know that reason is how we interpret events. I believe that it is not events that happen with a reason, but is us who form and take reason from those events. It’s been almost a year since death happened. Since death occurred. And I can’t explain it. I think about her still, every day I think about her. She has touched my life and she has shown me the frailty of humanity. I watch people destroy who they are; they desire alcohol and drugs to fill this internal void. And I see her face and I can’t, for her sake, I can’t do that. I can’t allow myself to get lost amongst all of that death; the death people wish for. I heard today a statement that “we have lost our divine center” and I believe that’s true. Emptiness, worthlessness, and nothingness become so consuming when we do not indulge and seek a way to fulfill our spirituality. We forget that humanity is broken and the only thing that will fix us is the belief in a God who is so majestic and so much bigger than the one religion and self-righteous fools try to place inside of their boxes; inside of boundaries and rules and regulations. God is the creator of the UNIVERSE. God does not seek to destroy that which God created, but to save it. We have destroyed ourselves. We are not pawns in a game, we have free will and we are the ones who decide what we choose to live for; whether it’s everlasting life or everlasting death.

It’s hard to watch him, because in his eyes I see the flash of her death in front of me and I want to tether him to me. I want to tie him to my waist and to save him from this life he is living. But I know that I cannot save him; I cannot give him salvation. I fear that the people I love will become her. That they will cross in hopes of death. That they will drive off the cliff. That, as they stand on this ravaged cliff, observing this darkened ravine that they perceive as life, they will all die a tragic and painful death. I have learned to love her. I love her for her pain and her hurt. I love her beyond any understanding. I could hate her; I could despise her for doing this. But I don’t. I don’t because she was someone who needed love and compassion to draw her from her hurt. I wonder, if I had seen her begging on the sidewalk, would I have even acknowledged her? Would I have looked down my nose at her? Or would I have reached out and been the one to show her Love? I don’t know; it wasn’t until her death that I was completely broken. I was so, so, so broken. She was broken, she was hurting, and she was high beyond comprehension. I heard that “it is through death and destruction that God breaks through and makes life grow.” Through this beautiful brokenness, I am blessed beyond comprehension. I am hurting for him. I want him to feel this Love. God is Love and Love is God.

Freud theorized that nothing happens by mistake and that in everything we might find reason and understanding.

.what love is not.

If I pretend that it never happened, that I was never exposed to any of it, will it all just fall away? The thought that I could do that, that I could let go of what i have seen and experienced, would cause me to lose many of the lessons I have gained from my journey. I think that, when I was so far from home, I was overwhelmed with worthlessness and for so long I wanted to die; I had a death wish. I used to say, “that cement median looks so inviting.” I was a different person then. This road has brought me so far and without the journey I would be missing rather large understandings, epiphanies, and pieces that have created me into whom I am.

One time, as I watched him inhale the white powder off the CD case his nostril rimmed in poison [before the needles, before the fall], I pretended I was strong. I pretended I was unaffected. I pretended that my heart wasn’t racing and that the tears weren’t really falling. Even then, as I wiped them from my cheeks, he didn’t notice. He never recognized what he was doing; never saw it affected those who loved him. We drove that night, into the darkness and past the sparkling street lamps that lit the path we both were crawling down. And the powder became bits of pieces that preceded my thoughts, affecting me in ways I never expected; its not as if I even sniffed it myself. I began to act and think like an addict. I justified his actions and even worse I justified my own. Loving him, meant accepting him, and accepting him meant that I loved him even when he was so far out of my reach. By loving him, i was his human life raft; my job was to keep him from dying, from drowning beneath the weight of it. I was taking in water, I was gasping for air, and when he fell, he grabbed my hair and I tried to hold strong [holding on for far to long]. I wanted to tether him to myself, so that if he fell, if he completely slipped away, I could hold on for the both of us. I was spewing forth excuses. He has such a good heart. Lies that we allowed to float on the surface, covering up the reality that was like sediment at the bottom of the sea; an ocean full of lies and justifications.

Fairy tales and make believe never really lasts. Underneath everything is this vague poisonous green. You can see it in the whites of the eyes of those who live in these lies. Of those who move moment to moment, a weight of longing and worthlessness upon their back. It’s death; a death wish. If you never really let go, if you never really forgive, they haunt you. Their presence is always their.

I thought that love meant sacrificing. I thought love meant acceptance. I thought love was the embodiment of “I will always be here, always care, always support you in whatever you do…” I realize now, that is not love but in so many ways its cowardice. We fail to confront people because of our fear that they will flee our presance, that they will walk away and never return our gaze. If we tell them that we are worried or that maybe their habits have crossed the line to something more, we are scared that they will flippantly ignore us or turn on us. The truth is, that if you really love someone, if they truly inhabit a bit of your heart, you cannot afford to stay silent. It is impossible to love them without ever being completely honest. You cannot sit back and watch them fall, but love them anyways. That is not love. Its moronic to think that you can be an inactive participant in the love you hold for them: Love without action is dead.

Cinderella

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels
Begin on tilted violins to span

The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall
Reflecting in a million flagons’ shine,

And glided couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince

As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk
She hears the caustic ticking of the clock.

- Sylvia Plath

.right or wrong choice.

I have tried to formulate solid views in regards to our government, the way our country is ran, and a solid base of standards and values. I don’t know if the right person was chosen for President; or if either candidate would have been the right person. I have always been taught that you respect and pray for your leaders, whether you approve of them or not. Do you follow blindly? No. Do you agree with them without ever questioning? No. But you do hope for the best. You put your faith in something higher, something not of this world, something that will protect you and when everything falls apart you still stand on solid ground. Whether or not the right person takes office it’s our responsibility to make sure that we stand for who we are and what we believe. God is in control. Yes, it may be harder. Yes, you may not understand the values of the other party. Yes, abortion is a huge problem. Yes, people face adversity and frustrating battles everyday. But its up to us to change things. Its up to us to walk along side people and to love them and to care about them. Our president does not dictate our behaviors, beliefs, standards, and morals.

A really big part of me still doubts the validity of the voting system that is in place. I mean, how easy would it be for people to rig an election? We live in a world where corruption tends to be the norm. Many justify actions by ignoring the truths and facts, basing what they believe to be “truths” on pure emotions. When so much hope and faith is placed in the hands of one person, it seems inevitable that that person will fail. Eventually, when all is said and done this man, “Yes we can”, will probably no longer be looked at as the “Messiah”, but in many ways be ostracized and blamed as our country falls further. The promises made and the words that people cling to are glimmers of hope for a society that feels the only way out is through change, but not all change is good change. Many of the promises are just empty shells that will never be filled in with actual validity; the promises were made to sway voters and to secure supporters. How is it possible for a government that is lopsided to make rational decisions that are good for the whole country? I tend to be caught in the middle many times. So often both sides of the fence are appealing/appalling. Currently, out of desperation, people are failing to really think rationally. I think that a lot of power is going to be placed in the hands of a single person. That’s frightening: humans (due to human nature) cannot be trusted with immense power and control. No matter how good a person is perceived to be or even could be in reality, power is like a skin eating virus and eventually it will take over the person its infected, every ounce covered in sores and festering wounds, consumed. Eventually this overwhelming power will be everything; eating, breathing, and drinking power.

Remember that to follow blindly, without questioning and seeking truths and a solid foundation, you are asking to be manipulated and taken advantage of.

.blame.

He is all of them. Does that even make sense at all?

I mean, he is them in so many ways because I look at them through the scope of how I viewed him. Time and again he was lying to me. He was beating me with words and actions and that’s how I see them. They are lying to me. Even those little lies or the ones they never actually voice, but are lies in the act of avoidance. I see him in them, and that vision of him causes me, in the deep down parts of who I am, to hate them. I don’t blame him, he was just really good at these spider webbed out stories. Like when he was married and then he left her, he told me “babe, you and me forever”.

I admit it. I admit. I felt guilty for it. But now that I have admitted it, it’s in the past.

Bastard. He just creeps around. I mean how do his footprints always retrace my laid out foot printed pathways? He is here now; he is in the places of my mind and heart where he shouldn’t be, maybe cause he was the first time lover of yours truly and maybe that’s why he inhabits me in such a way. He is the earth shattering, heart pitter pattering, first love that destroyed [created] me. I am who I am, in many ways, because he loved me. Or I loved him. Or, I don’t know.

Love, what does that mean anyways?

I don’t trust you. I don’t believe that you will ever be able to love me, because of him. And that’s the past I have. I was his lover, he was mine. And now I don’t even trust myself as far as I am reaching. I am nothing beyond where I allow myself to forgive [be forgiven].

I am nothing.

I am my beloveds and my beloved is mine.

Who is that, who will call me worthy?

.valuable.

So I am standing here in the midst of crazy; but crazy seems to not be touching me.

I was remembering back in my life, the different phases and different times. Places where I was sinking beneath the floor boards; I was drowning beneath the weight of all that I was experiencing. I understand that I made the choices to be in the positions I was in. I was allowing myself to be killed, to have every ounce of skin ripped from my body, tearing every muscle, ligament and vein. I allowed it. Every effed up relationship. Every time I whispered a reciprocated verb. But it wasn’t real. None of it was what I want, nor expect from those types of relationships. I had somehow forgotten the value of me. I was so focused on them and fixing them; I was lost in the pity I felt for them.

I have come to realize that a huge part of self development is understanding that what is important is not the approval of others, but the approval of self and, inevitably, the rest will follow. I really feared what emotions could do or be because I had never had anyone value me or love me the way I should be. The tumultuousness of this worldly “love” was based in nothingness and it was totally breaking the reality of true “love” for me. I sort of, even now, fear feelings and emotions, not because the emotions are scary, but it is what happens if you lose them. If I really put my heart in it and invest into someone and it comes crashing down so will the fragile crimson walls of the heart that beats inside of me. I on some level hide behind these “trust issues”. And how many times can I offer that excuse in place of the truth? I am afraid of revealing my true emotions and that after offering my heart it will be replaced back into my hands in a million effing pieces. Maybe its not new people I don’t trust, its past people. Those past people [whom I will never trust again] cause me to fear new people. My friends know what I am talking about. I mean locked up and barbed wired type stuff. I feel like people, by their character and their actions, can gain my trust. Sometimes I feel instant connections and like I have been friends with someone forever. Sometimes I trust people without needing a reason. Sometimes I just know something is to come of our meeting. Other times it takes longer for that trust to develop.

I mean why should I just offer it all up? I have pulled the weeds. I have, every person that I entrusted with my hope, dreams, and love, that has betrayed me are no longer close to me. I am cordial. I am honest. And I love them out of the Love Jesus gives me to offer. But we are not intimate and that’s ok. Many of them change me [or I change myself]. Its like I revert back to earlier years and that is completely unhealthy. I get that attitude; the protective pity. I don’t know, but it’s ridiculous. I am called to something greater, something better, a love that God has ordained. I am called to the man that I will spend forever with. Whomever he is, I believe that God has fashioned him for me and the whole “fear” thing wont come into play.

I value myself. I value my future. And I value the man that will eventually be my husband.