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.

The Spaces In Between

Between my brain and heart
so much remains unknown.
I can be a stranger,
even to myelf.
Therein lies a place
where questions go unanswered,
and tears yield no purpose.
A place where dreams
linger on reality-
where not much sense is
made of anything,
and no one seems to care.
In the smallest corner of this room-
where logic falls to waste-
It is here that
I love(d) you most.

Total Eclipse

I can’t figure out if it’s the not talking that hurts the most, or the fact that when we do talk there is the constant, lingering reminder that you are no longer mine. I know it’s real this time- it all feels different. The tone. The permanence. The shallow, empty feeling that follows after having once been so full, then ravenous, now numb. You pop up in my life in the most abrupt, unsettling ways. Images that used to be pleasant rabbit trails of thought are now intruders, obscenely infiltrating a lunch break. A good joke. A quiet night. You’re the shadow behind my lips, the strings at the corners of my smile, keeping it from reaching my eyes. Meanwhile, I’m drowning in memories of a time when you were the light that helped me to shine. Perhaps brighter than I ever did, but maybe not as bright as I ever will. Maybe?



I went to the beach, and I stuck my toes in the sand. I smelt the salt air. I felt the sun against my skin, fragments of waves tossing me, gently, in the cool water. But, suddenly- there you were, creeping in and taking me back. We stood together on that beach splashing and smiling, the gray skies ominous above us. The day you just ripped me from was much prettier, but this one had everything the other didn’t. This one had you. So, I lingered a while in the thought, thinking if I just closed my eyes and wanted it bad enough, I could transport back there. The sounds around me, recently engulfing, slipped away; and I was neither here nor there. Stuck between past and present. And I want to cry, saddened by the thought of myself as a voluntary prisoner of a mind and heart that raged against me.


It would be much easier of you were a jerk. Or if you had treated me wrong. But, there was no wrongdoing, no betrayal. Just a guy who was brave enough to say that what he had to give just wasn’t enough. I stood, heart quivering, knowing I would take whatever you offered, and I would make it enough. I would’ve settled for that. But, not you. No, you wanted more, yet I had nothing more to provide. I was spent and exhausted in every sense of the word. So, I watched you walk away, forbidding my feet to follow, still knowing full well that a part of me was going with you.


Finally, it seems the ride is gradually coming to a stop, but I still haven’t gotten permission to free my arms and legs from the confines of the vehicle. Danger still lurks, teeming in the shadows; waiting. Coiled like a serpent- ready to strike, but I’m aware. I’m aware that I can stay in that cart, slowly taking me to no place in particular, afraid of the sting that might come. Or I can stand up and move on, knowing the sting will hurt, but it will not kill me. Now, if I can just find my feet…

Breaking Free

Nothing fits, and I’m railing against my skin. I want out, but you just can’t seem to notice. And, I told you fifteen hundred times that I didn’t want that picture there, but you hung it anyway while my back was turned. You set your footprints over my room, and like a nymph high on Mr. Clean you transformed it from chaotic to pristine. But, I never wanted that. No! Don’t you listen to me anymore? Do you hear the words that come out of my mouth? The ones I’m feeling rest unsaid, seething in the back of my throat. They linger there because I know they’ll serve no purpose here. I’m drowning, my hand raised above the surface that’s slowly drifting away, but you just watch- looking up from your section of the sand momentarily to make sure I’m just drowning, not dying. But, why didn’t you ever think to teach me to swim? And, should I start to drown, you are at my side. My knights in shining armor. Yet, don’t you see? All that metal turns to rust from being in the water. You don’t belong there. It’s my ocean. That’s your land. I’m trying to make it in this scary place, and instead of watching me suffer, and tarnishing your shine, why can’t you just support me enough to release my anchor?

Getting Over

No one ever prepares you for heartache. No one ever tells you how it has this power, this inexplicable ability, to completely and totally infiltrate your life- peppering it with tiny shards of pain. There are moments when I feel like the whole world is falling apart in front of my eyes: the blueness of the sky cracking, fragments falling and disappearing, leaving only blackness. The forests and suburbs collide as they pass into nothingness. The ground, finally crumbling, collapses beneath my feet and just goes down…down…down…until I can see it no longer. I can’t even remember a time when it was there. And I just exist.



I can still hear her name floating from your lips- the lips that used to kiss mine. I can feel that same violent surging in the pit of my stomach. I feel ill at every thought of you kissing her, holding her, wanting her. The way you used to want me. And, I can’t fault you. I can’t be mad at you for moving on. But, I swear all I want to do is scream and plead with you- beg you to choose me. Want me. Be with me. Crawling. Kneeling. Praying. Come back. Please, please, please, p..l..e..a..s..e.. just come back. It’s weak. It’s pitiful. It’s pathetic. And, I have to stop my heart from doing it every day.


I know the logistics of it all: distance, timing, life paths, wah-wah-wah. But, it’s as if there’s this whole ocean that exists between the rational thoughts of my brain and the irrational feelings of my heart. One wants to remember, while the other begs to forget. One wants to return your request for friendship, while the other cautions to cut ties and heal. One wants to push away the world, while the other says to be wary of pushing away those who care- they just might push back. But, as usual- the former wins.


I remember everything, often. How you brushed the hair out of my eyes, leaned in close; kissing me for the first time. Riding shotgun while you begged me to rub your back, turning to kiss me when I least suspected it. Splashing in the ocean and watching the storm roll in, not caring if it rained. Waiting for the night to come. And those moments. Sometimes, not being able to wait. Just being perfectly content to lie in your arms and…be. Our many conversations about everything and nothing, your voice so close in my ear, but physically so far away. I remember it all. And it hurts like no pain I’ve ever felt. Everything seems to hold this memory of you, and it’s a constant battle not to give in and tuck the world away. Just fold it up and press it between the pages of a random book. Someone else will stumble upon it there- let them worry about it for a little while.


Meanwhile, I just want to stop hurting. I just want these shards removed from me. Then, I’ll deal with the wounds. I want to sleep through the night without waking to the thought of your name and a flood of memories. I want to get up in the morning and not struggle to breathe in and out. I want to get through a day without thinking that if I was just a little better, just a little prettier, perhaps a little smarter, or a little more appealing; maybe then I would still have you. Maybe, then I would be worth fighting for. Those words, when reiterated for you, made you ill.


Stop it. Stop saying that. It’s just not true. I never said that.


You told me more than once.


Sometimes, there are circumstances that are beyond our control.


Circumstances.


I hear the words, yet I find it difficult, so difficult, to believe them. Still, what choice do I have, really?


So, I go to bed and try to sleep. I wake up and try to smile. I live and try to dream. I wear masks to fool even those who know me best. Sometimes, I manage to fool myself. I know one day I will be okay. I will be happy again. But, for now- I have to get through.


No one ever prepares you for heartache. Not the true kind. The kind that grips you at your core and leaves you stumbling around in a world of “If only…”, “What If?”, and “I wish…”. I guess no one really can. I guess it’s one of those things you have to find out on your own.