Hurt

Just when things finally get good, it comes crashing down. Why? Why? Why?

It doesn’t matter why. The important thing is what we do with what was broken when everything fell apart. Why do we hurt each other? To protect ourselves. People who hurt the hardest are the ones that are hurting the most. But why do we have to endure their childhood pain? That’s not fair. 

But here I am; in love with an emotionally hurt human and I’m hurt and I don’t know what to do. How much should we forgive? How much is normal? There is a lot of good but when the pain comes out to rear its ugly head, it’s a monster. And I’ve always been terrified of monsters. I usually ran away from them as fast as I could when I was little. It’s not as easy as an adult. This adulting is hard. I’m way too old to be dealing with the issues I deal with. But hey! Here I am. Still figuring out what to do with my life, in my thirties and hanging out with the emotionally damaged. Who knows? Maybe I’m one too. But I really try not to be.

I’m hurt, in pain, in silence and know nothing except that I must move forward even though I don’t know where forward is. I guess you’re suppose to carry on even when you’re blindfolded, otherwise life goes on without you. It has before, believe me I know. The bleeding will eventually stop. It always does.

But for now, keep cool, wipe away the tears and carry on anyway you can.

Pain

My choices have made no sense. I look back and don’t understand a thing. It all made sense until I graduated high school. I was the perfect little girl. I didn’t question anything. I had no issues with any teachers or any authority figure. Some people around me did have some issues with me. Just my existence seemed to bother them. I had a cousin whose sole purpose was to make my life miserable. There was this other girl Regina, she wanted me to have no friends. So, even without me being aware of it…I was an outcast. It was all subconscious. I was different but nobody informed me. More than that, I was thrown into the most logical, structured, controlled environment you could think of. I was innocent, I was pure. I didn’t know much at the time. I graduated with good grades and then it all began. My subconscious mind started to act out. I got into a very prestigious University, as it was to be expected. I got in, the extended family was happy. Then, everything the professors were saying made no sense. They were telling us how to think. They were telling us nothing mattered more than money. I snapped.

I had always liked music but I had been shy. I didn’t want to be like everybody else. Odd since that had been what I had done for 18 years. How could I know anything else? Maybe it was my mom. My mom was typical but not quite. She also had this spark in her that told her there was more. She saw me before I saw me. She knew I was an artist. I didn’t even know the definition of such person. It’s OK to be odd? How could that be? All that had mattered was doing what I was told.

I said goodbye to the prestigious University that would have gotten me any job I’d like and decided to move to L.A and study music. There was one little problem I did not quite contemplate. I didn’t know how to commit to being a rebel. Yes, it was there…but so was the logical side that I had worked on for so long. I embarked on my journey as an artist and didn’t make it. That’s OK. Everyone needs a happy ending; I’ve learned that they are not what they seem. Life isn’t what it seems. And that’s fine.

So I’m always in between. The only little thing was that I never committed to the logical side or the artistic side. I’m both. I’m always in between. Because of this, I suffer. I don’t feel like I fit in here not there. This all started when I was 19. I realized I was half and half. It has caused much pain but hey…you can’t be something you’re not.

I love prestige and success. I love raw and real. I love being free but I think money is great. I like things to be easy but the struggle also inspires me to write. I have a logical boyfriend and he pushes me more towards the logical side and I think deep down inside I’m more an artist. Why? They’re cooler, they’re rarer. They are admired, they leave a mark.

And so, the last three years and a half was the longest I was able to commit to being outside the system and some sort of artist. I wrote a book, I had gigs around town for a year and I started two blogs. I guess that’s something. And then, suddenly, I ran out of money. It had happened before but and this is a big but; now I’m in love. As most know, love changes everything. Love doesn’t allow you to get away with a lot of crap you can get away with when you’re single. You can eat soup everyday and it doesn’t matter if you’re single. But, as I’ve mentioned before, he’s the logical type and he’s somebody. I don’t know what that means. That’s a lie; I do know what that means but I’m a bit surprised I ended up with someone so different than what I’ve become. I haven’t just ended up with him, I’m madly and deeply in love with him. Who am I then? I’m willing to move to a high paced city and get a more corporate job so that I can “make it”. Am I being a hypocrite or is that who I am? It doesn’t matter. I guess sometimes some things shouldn’t be associated with our identity.

Our plan is to work and save and travel. Yes, that’s right. I said our plan. Never had my plan included someone else and now it does. I’m grateful for this love. I’m simply going through this transition. I feel blindfolded. I feel neutral. I feel this is what has to happen. It has made me cry a couple of times. It has caused pain. But that’s fine. Who would I be without pain? My life never seems to be calm, it never seems to be figured out and I should embrace that. It has been anything but boring.

So yes; this is a bit painful. And you know what? That’s fine. Pain isn’t about avoidance. Pain demands to be felt so there you go pain. I feel you, I embrace you, I don’t resist you. We can be friends and write beautiful things together. You’re here and you are not ignored.

That’s the thing about pain; it demands to be felt. Yes, I feel pain. But I’m smart and pretty and I can keep calm and carry on.

Say goodbye

It’s unfortunately easy to stay even if it’s wrong to do so. The pain has been her friend for so long, she doesn’t even know who she’d be without it.

Pam broke up with her boyfriend a week ago and doesn’t know what to do with herself.

Sara begged him to stay and he still said no. She suffered, he hurt her and she still wanted him back. Why? We’re used to pain if it means we’ll fit in. We’re afraid of loneliness.

I’ve learned the hard way how to say goodbye. It was hard but at least I learned that lesson. Some people never do.

Say goodbye to those that have nothing to give you. Say goodbye to those that have hurt you.

Go into yourself and love it. Be your own before being another’s. I’ve been my own and now have forgotten how to be another’s but hopefully it’ll happen again and I’ll remember.

I’m saying goodbye to feeling sorry for myself and comparing myself to others.

I’m saying goodbye to you heartbreaker. I’m saying goodbye to the drama. After so much, I hope to help someone else get over it. We’re too valuable to care for those that don’t matter.

Pain needs time and you can’t rush it. But once you get the strength to get up again, do it. Don’t question it and just do it. It might seem as though you’ll never have the strength again but you will. The heart never gives up on you. Don’t give up on it and say goodbye to anything that tries to take it from you. Protect your heart with you life and wave goodbye to the heartache. I have a lot of baggage but I’m saying goodbye and getting up. I’m hoping for the best and starting over for the 12th time. Seriously. If I can do it, you can do it too.

I’m not in love

We live to breathe. We live to strive. We live to seek. We live to find. Sometimes we even live to love. Today is the day of independence; the day where solitude is celebrated and questioned. No, I’m not in love. We try to survive. We know not what will come and yet we’re here. I’m not in love.

I don’t know much but I know that I am not in love. It makes me feel somewhat lost. It makes me feel somewhat inspired. At times it feels it’s by chance. At times it feels it’s by choice.

Should I be ashamed by such a statement? Should I be looking for someone to love? I don’t know.

As many other endeavors, I don’t know. But I do know that of all the things I currently do not know much about, this is the one I know the least of. This is that one thing that I have to stop myself from writing constantly about. I think it is a combination of nature and nurture.

I am well aware of its nature and how we are born with some sort of innate right to be loved. But I do feel influenced at times. I feel influenced by all this mass media that is trying to run me over. I feel as though I should either want it or die. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to live with or without you. I want to be happy with or without you.

On nights like tonight I want not to want you. I want not to wonder. I only crave that which is and could be but not that which isn’t.

We should question everything. We should want not only what we think we want but also what we should want. Control isn’t ideal but it is useful. I want to stay true to myself and yet know the difference between what is real and unreal. You are real but wanting to control your timing seems unreal and selfish.

I am here and I am not in love. Sometimes I can cope and sometimes I feel as though I am the lead character in the opera of my life and that my heart cannot seem to beat without you. Fascinating opposites seduce me as usual.

But tonight I am not in love and it pains me yet it frees me. What this all means still intrigues me and I will continue to search and witness its attraction for as long as I shall live. It will and can come but until it does, I will wonder and I will be intrigued by its mystery and absence; by its passion and constraint.

It is puzzled and it shall make sense somehow; even if it kills me, even if it rains.

Out of the woods

Not only am I out of the woods but the wounds have finally healed. The fire that almost consumed me left deep scars, but they even make me smile now. Being lost in the woods makes you forget what safe and peaceful feel like. When you’re trying to survive, everything is different. The trees are a threat, the people walking around seem mean, the sky is covered by monsters that won’t allow you to see the light. I wasn’t quite sure if I was out yet but today I am. Today I can listen to the music again. I can dance. Today I can believe that someone else can come along. Today you no longer represent pain, but healed pain. I’m not gonna say I’ve forgotten, but I can say I’ve learned to live with it.

The love was as deep as the wood’s endlessness. For a minute there, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out. And then, against all odds, here I rise again. Life is this. Life is making your way through the woods, the water, the wind, the obstacles, taking a ride from kind strangers that smile, the people you meet throughout your journey, the creatures you cannot seem to describe and the love that never allows you to completely give up, even when you want to.

Today I want to thank you for having the courage to understand. I want to thank you for reading and never giving up. Today I’m out of the woods and you might be in the middle of them, but that’s why we’re not doing this alone, we can’t. We’re here together to help each other know that there’s someone out there that has been there and can understand. The woods are scary, dark and even beautiful when the tears will allow you to open your eyes and see. The woods inevitably force you to appreciate surviving. Even when you run into those souls that don’t even know what the woods look like, it makes you wonder if they’re better off. But they can’t be. They don’t get to hear the music or dance the way we do.

Today I’m dancing and I’m even singing. I’m celebrating being out of the woods and seeing the beautiful never-ending sky again. The sky that contains the sun with its rays showering us with faith. The sky that holds the beauty of clouds and their soft touch.

Being out of the woods is a wonderful reminder of how hopeful life can be and how important it is not to waste time when you’re in the middle of the maddening woods with self pity and playing cards with The Victim. The Victim will offer you food and try to make you think that you have a right to feel sorry for yourself, don’t fall into the trap. Say no to The Victim and continue fighting for your life. The sky and the other fighting souls will be grateful that you didn’t give up on us. We all need each other and giving up should never be an option. Today I’m out and the glow feels wonderful.

If love…

If love is more important than money, why do we invest so much time in becoming financially successful and not in love? Why do we go to our jobs without questioning the hours or the minutes?

If love is what we were created to need, why is it so neglected by our actions?

If love is what hurt you deeply, why do you do the same to me?

I try to ignore the pain by numbing myself with indifference and I bleed whenever I turn away but I must. I cannot keep feeling in a world that has become so cold, heartless.

If love is so damn important, why can’t we just easily find it? Why is it easier for some more than others? I’m OK; we always find a way to be. But if love is as precious as it feels, why was it made to be this painful?

If true love takes time, why does it take no time to fall into it and an eternity to fall out of it? Its lack of sense drives me insane.

If I deserve love, why did I fall in love with someone who’s reckless with hearts? Dragging them around, completely oblivious to the fact that they are made out of glass and must be treated with care.

If love takes up so much of my thoughts, why can’t I make a living off of it? Might as well make some money at least.

If love is felt more strongly by the cursed and the blessed, why must we all co-exist in the same playground, trying to play nice? Kids are mean, especially boys. They will never know what it feels like for a girl.

If love crawls into my brain every chance it gets, how can I possibly be Zen and let go?

If love seems so hopeless, why can’t I ever lose hope? Holding on to it as if my life depended on it. If you don’t love me, how could I possibly love you so blindly?

If love is  beautiful, why do I have to remind myself constantly how these moments are somehow worth living without you?

If love is red, why is everything so blue? Wherever I turn…

If love is this, then I understand why the artists never get tired of writing about it, trying to make some sense of it all by going over it once and again.

If love is all we need, why do I crave for so much more?

If love is what it is, why, oh why do I constantly need to understand it so desperately? If this is my heart’s desire, why can’t I hold the gold dust in my hands as I write this?

If only I knew, if only.

Bleeding

I broke my heart by accident a week and a half ago and it won’t stop bleeding. You broke your heart a week and a half ago and it seems to have healed nicely. Joni knew about this when she said only women bleed, this is true. Men bleed but it doesn’t linger. I will never know what it feels like for a man, but I know what it feels like for a girl. I am bleeding and I have forgotten how to help my wounds heal. I forget and think that a scar is forming itself and then I open it up and it bleeds. He seems to have scared completely and utter frustration takes over my wound, making it deeper.

I wish being a woman wasn’t so hard sometimes. We feel more passionately, we’re sensitive to everything. I wish men understood this. I wish they knew how it feels to really bleed. I wish they could bleed a little bit longer, not heal so easily. I will never understand why there’s such a huge gap in between us. I will never know the coping mechanisms we come up with to heal our wounds and stop the incessant bleeding. I wish I could make it stop, I don’t like blood. I wish I could make it stop the way you have. I wish it didn’t hurt as bad to be alone here, bleeding.

Now you’re not only gone but your broken heart has made a full recovery. Now I’m not only here, but I’m bleeding and I do not know how to make it stop. But as painful as it is, I know it will stop, it has to stop. I simply have moments of complete desperation where I want to burst outside of my skin. I feel as though I’ve bled quite enough in this lifetime and I don’t know how much more red I can take. The dark of red cannot last forever, the heart will love again because its design calls for it. It’s easy to forget how this too shall pass. It’s easy to get desperate when you want to make the blood go away without a single trace. But even as painful as it is to see your power of making the wounds disappear, I wouldn’t want that. If I don’t bleed, it means I’m cold; it means I’ve truly lost the passion, the hope.

I’m bleeding and you show no signs of pain, but at least I can still feel; at least I know I’m alive.