Joyous Holidays

Joy fills the air and laughter fills your ears. Smiles on people’s faces and you can’t help but feel the heart soften.
Ah yes, it softens. Yes the holidays once again are near. With that brings the reminders why I just really do not like the holidays…
I just left my young sons room where he lay in his bed just staring at the wall as he rested his head on his flannel covered pillow. I asked what was wrong, he said nothing. I told him goodnight, I loved him and that is when he turned to me. In a voice that you could tell mustered all the courage he had, he asked, “Mom, do you know where dad is yet?’
I stopped. Looked into his eyes and saw the tears he was fighting back and I walked over to him. I sat on the bed, wrapping my arm across him tightly. I breathed in deeply, here, my son needed an answer and I wish I could have given him the one he sought. Instead, with heavy disappointment, yet with all the tenderness a mother’s heart can carry I answered ‘No baby, but as soon as I do, I will let you know.”
The room grew still. The air grew thick with sorrow and longing. The pain weighing so heavily it’s as if gravity tripled in that very moment. I stroked my son’s hair gently and did not move from that spot.

Watching the tears of abandonment, of loneliness, form in my baby’s eyes as he longed for someone who would not come. As he ached for someone who would never again hold him. I tried to soothe his hurt. I tried to mend the tare in his heart. I tried to patch the hole that gapped with loss, but I could not. There are some things even all the love in a mother’s heart cannot heal. There are some things all a mother’s magical kisses cannot soothe. This is one of those.

Yes, it’s the holidays.
I remember why I hate the holidays.

You judge me for looking normal. Really? Is that what you see?

You wear the marks of cutting to bring the pain to the surface. I wear the smile of always trying to hide the myriad of abuse, the belittling, the shame.

You bare you tattoos as a mark to let the world know what you think. I bare lack of memory for trying so hard to forget what all the world knew.

You display your piercings to proudly announce your break from society’s norms. I display simplicity to proudly announce I survived them.

You boldly claim your sexuality. I unleash mine in safety still remembering the repreaves when I didn’t.

You wear whatever you want and encourage people to look. I try to blend in to encourage anyone not to notice.

You say I am normal. Fine, a title I’ll graciously accept and gladly wear as honor. But when you look in the mirror and are content in who you see. Remember Normal can still barely glance at its own reflection, still scared to remember what it saw.

Silent

Wrap me up, tightly, in something confined.

Don't look at me, keep your gaze far from mine.

Love me I scream

Love me I beg

I plea

I cry

You never see it...nor do I.

The tears that have all but dried

But today

Today.

One single tear strolled down my cheek

One single, wet lone tear that gave redicence my heart is mending.

My heart is slowly stitching together.

My heart can feel deeply.

But....

But with that terror I know then it can break deeply.

Pain and sadness are endured. I do not know if that I was ready for.
I now feel vulnerable.
Open
Breakable
Easy to read and easy to rip into two

Think I am beautiful
I want you to think I am lovelier then any others you lay eyes on.
But how can you? How can you when I am not perfect.
I am flawed.
My body holds scars
Imperfections
It’s not perfect. It never will be. How can you?

My cold exterior breaking.
Melting.
The walls falling
Crumbling

Damn

Feeling the insecurities so readily opened that I have not had to feel.
Feel as though I cannot compare.
Feel as though I will never be beautiful enough
Feel as though Love can never truly hold me.

I want to feel it, I want to feel what you say flow through me and cover me whole and I do.
For moments I truly do.
But alone, I cannot hold it.
Alone I cannot wrap my head around…
You love me.
Me?
You love….
Me?
You love me.

I am scared. I am terrified.
I cannot be broken.
I cannot fall.
Trying not to close off and push you away, but to open and let you in.
And I am
I am open
Vulnerable
You are there...
You have pushed past the gates and are now at the walls, though there are fallible gaps. There are holes so that all you have to do is reach a little further and you can crumble them all.
Crumble them
Reach for me
Draw me in
Crumble them…
And then
Then…
Then where will I be?
Then where will we be?
exposed

Love me I scream
Love me I beg
I plea.
Love…
Love me…
Lov…
How can you? I am not perfect. I am broken. I am scared and I am flawed.

Don't look past these eyes

Sitting, shivering, awakened, you ask what was the dream...


Please don't look past these eyes


Please don't make me feel


I'm scared to let go


Scared to show


Scared to know that pain is still real





You know, as the minutes have moved on. As the hours have turned into days. As the days have turned into months. As the months have become years, I still feel it. Not so often now. Hardly ever really, but it is there. It seems to always be there. Right below the surface. Never showing until I am still enough, quite enough to feel it stir. Then it rises.


Love me. Just Love me.





My God, after all these years the pain of rape still rises to the surface in quite moments. The dreams still haunt me. The blank moments of my youth I still cannot recall. The torment of being told how ugly you are and your body is the only worth. I still cannot look in the mirror without torture and disgust.





There are days I feel so alive. So valued. So in control of my life. Then my eyes close and my memories remind me I am broken. I awake. Sit. Stare. Try and remember I have come so far. I have lived through it. I am still here. Still strong. My heart still beats with passion. I convince myself again I am not scared. It has had no effect on me. I am not damaged. No one knows, so I can still hide. It was so long ago.



I am reminded though. Every time I cannot look at my own reflection. Every time I am told I am pretty and I shutter. I am reminded.





The dreams remember being pushed face first into the pillow, raping in an area where he would leave the hymen intact. Even now, I still cannot say it.





The dreams remember watching my brothers feet under the bed as he stood so far away not knowing what was happening. He stood in the partially opened doorway playing 'Judy'. He was told to watch for enemies, which were parents, while behind the cover of the high bed, the older boy slipped his tongue between my thighs. That is all my dreams show, just the distance of his feet and the tears trickling down my face... quietly, so my brother wouldn't be harmed.





The dreams recall the classmate who drove friends and I home from school;who one day took me home alone, yet behind an empty white church laid blood trailing down legs. Every cry of 'no', every desperate shove away from his hips were answered with another brutal thrust. After being dropped home as if nothing happened, the evidence was quickly cleaned, clothes buried beneath the kitchen garbage and the memory captured as a photo shoot happened that evening. Dad's and family cannot be disappointed.





The dreams vividly tell of limbs being frozen. The terror of a mind knowing what is getting ready to happen as the pants are pulled away. The drugs that were slipped in your drink give him access to it all without any retaliation. The horror in flashes as you slip in and out of consciousness and back into a black abyss.





The dreams reminisce of marriage, being scolded and verbally broken every time I let go and enjoyed making love. Climaxes brought what seemed like hours of his mouth moving with noise flying at me.





I have come far. I have lived through it and to look at me you would never know. Everything is open yet those are the secrets I hide. I have learned to sleep nude without the fear of what would happen when I drifted to sleep. I have learned to speak up for myself and to defend if necessary.


If you knew would you still love me? If you knew would you still accept me? I have never been willing to take that chance. You would probably think I am broken. I am used. Would you still want me? Why, when you could have something new? Something untainted.



So I will hide it. I will keep it where only my dreams recall the truth. That is my past. I am not her any longer. I am strong. I am beautiful. I am confident. I love and can be loved. The past does not define who I am, it only has helped to make me. I want you to know who I am today.



So, please don't look past these eyes
Please don't make me feel
I'm scared to let go
Scared to show
Scared to know that pain is still real.

I Love you

As I busy throughout the house, body busy with household tasks, my thoughts keep coming back to you. You. They seem to always come back to you.

I would say I lusted for you as I have in the past I am sure. I would say it was because there are so many things you have introduced me to that are new, but then I have done new things with people lots of times before. No, I have to say I am in love with you. Madly, taken back and swept into you. Yes, that funny word love.

Love. Now there is a word. I actually wouldn’t say love is funny more like a hysterical nightmare. How so? Think of all the silly things you do in the name of love. Think of all the risks involved in loving. Yes…Love.

And so I am here, in a hysterical nightmare. I tell you the truth; there is no place I would rather be. Well, maybe on a yacht sipping a sangria in the middle of the pacific, but then my dreams would still be of you, so rather be here. In love. In your intoxicating thought.

There are days when I think of the very smell of your cologne. There are moments when I think of the touch of your skin. I think most of the time though of how you are. Some of those random silly thoughts are of listening to your quiet click at the computer as I fold the laundry. Playing together as dinner is being prepared, taking road trips with you, even to the local park. My thoughts are of just being with you in all capacities.

What an odd hysteric it is to want to be with you in such trivial, meaningless moments. This is quite a new venture for me. Okay, not a new thought by any means as I have dreamed of what I would like to do with someone were I to ever spend such time with them. It is new in the sense that I have not thought these things of another person in years. I have wondered on several brief occasions of others, but quickly dismissed the idea. As the thought of the sound of their breathing in another room or even lying next to me for any period of time annoyed me. Any slight bit of their irritation would infuriate me and I would have sent them out the door quickly with bags sweetly following in mid air.

When I thought of you though, what it would be like to spend a great deal of time together, I quickly shuddered. I froze. I hastily changed my thought. Why? Why such an unusual reaction?
It was because I relaxed. It was because I enjoyed the thoughts. It was because as I thought of you being irritated with something, my mind started to think of ways to help and solutions to fix it. It was because as I thought of you sitting in another room doing something else I was delighted with the thought of you just being there. It was because when I tried to think of things that would possibly annoy me with you I wanted to compromise. I wanted to work through difficulties. It was because when I thought of you I thought in terms of longevity. It was because when I thought of you, I wanted to be yours. Those thoughts frightened me to my very core.
To know that I wanted more from you and not knowing what you felt in return. Not knowing if somewhere in your thoughts, ‘longevity’ had crossed your mind.

Wondering if you had ever thought of wanting to roll over every morning you would have and kiss my lips. Pondering if you had ever wanted to spend all your nights with the sound of my heartbeat next to yours. Contemplating if you had ever thought of going through life’s joys and hardships with me by your side. I am Entranced in the thought if you had ever, ever, ever considered if you would have wanted me as…a wife. I know a wife.

Now you see the nightmare. How could I have even thought this? My intellect tells me this has been too quick. That people just do not know those kinds of answers so readily. That time must be had to make such a bold statement as that. That I am much to grounded to think this sort of nonsense. Then my heart answers I have had years to think of what I would want. I have had ages to know what I am looking for. My mind checks its list and then stands perplexed as you fit. You. You this man who came from out of the blue. You. You, who came to me at the height of contentment with being on my own and you fit my criteria I put forth. You fit what I have made lists of. You fit what I have thought so many nights upon. You fit what I have rationalized in my mind year after year.

I am reminded of Shakespeare’s ‘As you like it’:
“No sooner met but they looked; No sooner looked but they loved; No sooner loved but they sighed; No sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; No sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.”

I know the reason as do I know the remedy. The reason is I love you. The remedy is to tell you I do.

Through your eyes

There are friends in your life to fill all capacities. Some fill most, others just a few. They bring you joy and pain. Some you know for just a season, others for a lifetime.

I have been very blessed to have people in my life that have helped me along the way. Some of these people have only been there with a kind word and smile. Others, with love and compassion. They all have meant a great deal to me. Whether they were there for a month or there for years, they all have a special place in my heart.

Though I think of each one at some time or another and there are many who should have a spot on this page with an ode just to them, I can only write what I am thinking at the moment.
There are two that at this stage of my life have influenced me in more ways than they know. So it is to these two friends that I pay tribute. Thank you for your strength, your courage, and your creativity. I have leaned on your shoulders, sometimes known, sometimes unknown and I am incredibly grateful for having you two in my life.
This is for you.

Through your eyes

You say I’m beautiful
You say that I’m kind
You think I am wonderful, you love my determination and mind

You say I am creative
You say that I’m strong
You think I can do anything; there is no where I don’t belong

There are days though when I am none of those things
There are days when all of that seems like a lie
Those are the days that you give me wings
Those are the days I live through your eyes.

Enchantment

A new development in the saga of a divorcee'. These days everything burns a little brighter. The birds sing a little louder. The wind blows a little warmer.

This happened a little differently. This took me by surprise. This snuck up behind me, grabbed me from the back (nibbled my neck first) and held me in its embrace. I believe I am enchanted. Okay I would say LOVE, but goodness that is a strong word. I have not uttered the word 'Love' in a very long time. I would say years. Well, not to a man. I will not say it now. I don't love, I am to feisty and fierce for that nonsense. So I will not. I will say enchanted. Yes, he enchants me.

He makes my heart melt. Feeling things I have for so long not felt. I have felt intense lust and infatuation. I have felt pain. I have felt happiness, joy, and disdain.

But this man elicits something so much more than superficial feelings. He elicits thoughtful emotions. He elicits my mind to wonder. He elicits me to curiosity.

I want to know how he thinks. How he likes his eggs cooked. I wonder what he will be like 10 years from now. I wonder how he brushes his teeth. I wonder what his days are like.

Here is where it gets even more aloof...I think of when he is sick, bringing him soup and wiping his fevered brow. I think of rubbing his feet when they are tired and aching. I think of helping him decide a tough decision. I think of holding his hand through the pouring rain. I think of helping him pick up a fallen glass. I think of if he should ever fall terminally ill, standing by his side and caring for him as best I am able. I think of folding his laundry and putting it away neatly in a drawer. I think of dinners at the table. I think of silly things I can do to turn his head. I think of kinky things to do to entice his desires. I think of the vixen to play just for him. I think of simply walking by his side. Of course I would not tell him these things. I can't believe I think them myself.

When I think of him all the different parts of who I am, all want to have equal say. The vixen, the coy, the shy, the funny, the goofy, the silly, the nerd, the clever, the passionate, the procrastinate, the doer, the actor, the mother, the lover, they all are there for him to see. All the different sides, I hide, I only show parts of to different people, but to him...the whole.

When I think of him I smile. My eyes glow, my heart warms. My toes even warm. My chest swells a mile and he matters. I care what he thinks. Me...I care what he thinks. Me, who is perfectly content in her own world, with her own things, with her own finances, with her own hobbies, with her own ways. Me, I want him to be a part of my world and I a part of his.

I do not know how it happened. I do not know when it occurred, but me, me, I want to enchant this man. I want to enchant this incredible man.

Me, the runner, the never love you. Me, the to hell if I will ever cook you dinner, you can do it yourself. Me, the leave me alone if your sick and call your mother. Me, the I don't care what your thinking and I definitely don't want to hear your feelings. Me, the I can do it all on my own and I need no one. That me. That tough, push them all back me...wants him more than I care to admit. That me wants to hold him, to care for him, to enchant him for as long as he has breath. That me, has given in to the sweet , fragile, docile, yet strong and powerful woman who hides behind all the masks; That terrified of enchantment me , wants to cast a spell on him so completely that no other can break it.

That me...

That well...That I...

I am completely taken aback by this man. This wonderful, amazing man, and I have discovered that I believe he enchants me...

don't make me say it...

resist, resist...

I refuse...

I give in...that me...

that I...

I love Him.

I love you.

Alright blog now it is up to you to keep my secret, because I will never tell! I have to many things to do than to do that!

Didn't see that one coming did you bloggers. Oh my so now what to write about...Hmmm...I could write about the escapades between he and I. That could give you all a run for your money. I think there was even Saran Wrap involved!