I’ve been loved before, it was the type of love teenagers have. You love one another, until something goes wrong. I don’t want that anymore. I’m too grown for that. I want the type of love that little children offer, the type that is quick to forgive and pure.
Stop apologizing for being emotionally unavailable. Stop saying you’re sorry because you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself right now. Stop making yourself feel like the bad guy for following your gut instincts. Stop allowing others to blame you for putting your own heart first. Stop letting them make you feel bad for not being interested in things that do not help you grow. Stop looking for someone else to complete you when you are already whole on your own.
And then you can start.
Start embracing it all. Start living boldly and unapologetically. Start listening to your heart and only your heart. Start saying no more often. Start pleasing yourself instead of being hung up on what others think. Start treating yourself with the same dignity and respect you give everyone else. Start loving yourself. Start refusing to settle for anything less than the best. Start thriving in your singleness. Start shaping your life into exactly what you always hoped it would be. Start creating your own happiness.
You don’t have to apologize for it. // excerpt from an unfinished book #148
the sparkle in their eyes, the smile they try to hide when they get a message from the one, the passion you sense when they talk about their loved one. it’s almost as if you can feel the butterflies of love in your own stomach.
Water. The floating body in a state of semi-levitation. Lungs expand in deep breaths of salty air. This is where I find you.
Water. Parched lips licked by wetted tongue. Coolness lingers in the back of throat. From esophagus to stomach, a wholesome sensation. Invigorating water. This is where I find you.
Floral scented shampoo; soap, essence of passion fruit, seeping down feminine pulchritude, taking with it worries of the day. Wet hair. Closed eyes and a smile; face raised up towards gushing streams of water. Rejuvenating water. This is where I find you.
Garden sprinkler created rainbows exist only for a moment, but the memories of jumping around them with my first dog will last a lifetime. Bare feet in the soggy grass. Muddy toes. Daddy chases me with a hose; before returning inside there is water. Rinsing water. This is where I find you.
Rarely in my life have I seen the whitest of beaches, even rarer have I witnessed the sight of an ocean so blue. My eyes gaze into infinity, and I ponder. Water. Infinite water. This is where I find you.
Sometimes I feel like the majority of me consists of you.”
I think, with a heart as expansive as mine, I could have just as easily fallen for anyone else. I don’t believe in the idea of destiny or soulmates–sometimes I even doubt magnets because there’s never just one person who draws me in. I say this candidly because I could be telling this to someone who isn’t you, and maybe you think that makes you less important in my eyes. But if I had a choice, if I knew where my love would take me each time, I should think it would be a shame if it didn’t take me back to you.
Is this really a love poem? Or is it just my truth?
i look at my eyes and they are filled with you. i look at my hands and they miss the softness of your skin. when did my heart went so weak? the more i try to catch the time the more it goes away. the rain still falls for your attention. my tears still fall for the way you left things between us. what kind of love is this? the silence breaks the promises. we break the hearts. we love into pieces. i look at your eyes and they are empty with the memory of us. i look at your hands and they don’t fit in mines anymore. nothing will be the same anymore.
And I wish you could. For my sake and for yours, I wish you could. But you can’t. You can’t kiss his previous lover off of him or love her out of him. And I’m sorry because I really wish you could. I wish you could erase every last damn trace, but you can’t. And maybe that’s okay though because maybe that means his next lover won’t ever be able to erase you either. You’re permanent.
I don’t want to think about you like I do,
But I do.
I don’t want to want you like I do,
But I do.
I don’t want to miss you,
And I don’t want to need you,
But I do and I don’t know what to do.
I can’t get rid of you.
These flames are starting to burn,
Fueled by all your lies,
And I can’t turn away.
You’re there even when I close my eyes.