When I Get There, I'll Let You Know

I’ve always known that change was something I feared. Something that I would shy away from given the opportunity. But, I never knew why. See, when forced into it, I adapted easily, and was relatively well-adjusted. But, it has never been something I chose to do. Big changes, little changes, it mattered not; they plagued me with trepidation. Just this constant, nagging sense of foreboding that I couldn’t seem to shake. Almost as if each one of those little changes somehow created this gigantic domino effect that tumbled into much larger, big changes- all crashing, pushing, collapsing on one another finally culminating into this massive situation of change that I wasn’t sure I could deal with. Suffice to say, I raged against that at all costs.


A lot of things have changed in the last three years. Some, for the better, some for the sake of learning, and some for the sake of merely knowing it is something which can be survived. I’ve changed too. There are times when I find myself reflecting back on everything; on the significant amount of transformations that have happened to myself. To my body. To my heart. To my mind. And…I don’t know what to do with it all. In some aspects, I feel I have grown more than I ever could’ve comprehended three, or even just a year ago. Yet, in some ways- I feel stuck. As if I’m at the edge of this great precipice in my life, and I know it’s time to jump, to make that leap, but I don’t. Because I can’t find the courage. The not knowing leaves me paralyzed with fear.

I’ve often heard that people who have to move back in with their parents for whatever reasons, face a lot of struggles. It’s hard to go back. To stay there. College students say how excited they were to return home for break, but then realize they are home-sick, yet not for the home in which they grew up. And I really think that’s what terrifies me the most. That it’s not just leaving, it’s losing everything that I have. And this unrelenting fear that I won’t get it elsewhere. I don’t ever want to feel like this isn’t the one place I belong, because I sometimes get scared of not belonging anywhere else. And I know that sounds like some weird circle of contradictions.

I always said that I didn’t want to cease to jump just because I might fall. Or just because it might not work out. I’d like to think I’m stronger than that. I shouldn’t need someone to force me to grow up. I shouldn’t need to be pushed. I wonder if sometimes people can see the unsteadiness in my eyes. Does it reflect in my actions? I guess sometimes, I just feel…really out of control. And I have these moments, where I see myself making a choice I shouldn’t make, allowing my Ego and Super-Ego, the silly feigns, to turn a blind eye whilst my Id runs amuck throughout my life. I just feel exhausted all the time. Not necessarily physically, but emotionally and mentally. And somewhere this turned into a journal entry, but I’m just going to go with it. I just had to get it out there.

It’s not the act of change that’s scary. It’s the lingering possibilities that follow that are truly terrifying. The “what if’s” the “maybe’s”. The “if I had only’s” that keep you awake at night. Or at least…it keeps me awake. But, perhaps that’s the issue.

I Found Myself Today

I found myself today-
a little shred of who I
used to be,
tucked fast away amid the
shambles of the person
I'd momentarily become.
Bound and gagged,
yet flailing-
struggling past the
pain and fear that ripped me
of joy.
of hope.
of control.
I see it,
but it's all so foreign to me now.
So mysterious.
I look upon it like a small child
might look upon a lightning bug-
Surely something this beautiful can't
be real.
But, part of me remembers it to
be true...
remembers it to make sense.
I can be happy...
even as I pick up the pieces.

The Morning that You Wake Up Good as New

I read some of our emails today. You know I saved them all, right? I did. A funny thing began to happen as the words jumped off the page at me. I smiled. Hell, I even laughed. Then, it hit me: I’m healing. I’m realizing our relationship as something beautiful and lovely- a period in my life that was filled with wonderlust. Do certain things still sting a little? Sure. But, they don’t make my heart ache. You cared for me. You saw me in a way that no one ever had. We were good together.

I called you this afternoon. I haven’t talked to you in over a month. I had thought of picking up the phone and saying hello, but the moment would pass and I would move on to yet another thought, and another. I believe more than anything- I just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to have you in my life again, not in the way I wanted. I had to give myself time to let some of that lingering desire fade away into soft pastels of love instead of bright, neon signs screaming want me!!! You couldn’t talk when I called, but said you would return the gesture later. That’s fine. Really. I’m not hurt. I’m not shocked. I’m not waiting by the phone. It shocks even myself. There was a time when I just knew the shadows of hurt and longing would suck me in, no matter how much I yearned to have days filled with laughter and sunshine. But, I blew bubbles. I took some risks. I bought a bathing suit. I laughed with friends. I allowed myself to hurt, forgave myself for past mistakes, and I made myself get back up. I moved on.

I can talk about you now with a smile at the corners of my mouth. I can reminisce of the memories we made, and all of the things you were to me- and not shed a tear. We didn’t make it. The future moved on too…without us. You. Me. In the same place. But, it doesn’t mean I have to give back the experience. Pain robbed me of that momentarily, but I took it back. We were supposed to happen. We were not a mistake. We were good together. But, now we’re apart. And, finally…I know I’m going to be okay. So will you. You were such a beautiful experience. No one will take that away from me.