Pained

I write better and more frequently when in pain. Why is it that words flow so freely during these moments? Why are artists, painters, writers, etc more inspired by pain than beauty? I have no answer and do not pretend to. I simply know that without a creative outlet I would suffocate-I would choke on my unexpressed thoughts and feelings.  I am grateful for the gift of words and more specifically for the ability to express them. Is this a diary? I don't know-few know how to access it. It contains a vast amount of personal expression. What I do know is that writing is therapeutic for me. Dear God, what would I do without it? My writings date back to 2008 and though I've been tempted to edit (if not entirely erase) some of its contents over the years I do not. They are snapshots of my life and life cannot be edited. Perhaps my great grandchildren and descendants will one day know me better because of it. I find comfort in this belief no matter the contents. I am and have always been an open book.

You Learn

"You live you learn, you love you learn,
You cry you learn, you lose you learn,
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn"

-Alanis Morrisette

When I find myself sad or grieving I must remind myself that life is a lesson not a destination. I am trying to focus on the shattered illusion which by the very definition means false. I am reminded of my ex husband-my last divorce and betrayal. After all how can one grieve for something and/or someone that was never real? It's not theoretically possible. You cannot yearn for a person that never existed to begin with. You can't miss something that was fabricated. I feel manipulated and used because to be honest that's exactly what it was. I want badly for it to be untrue but it isn't. Maybe I am simply grieving over the loss of a dream. The thing is, I was authentic. I find a sliver of comfort in knowing he will never find what he had with me both in and out of the bedroom (yeah good luck with that).  I am a strong woman and need a strong man. He simply wasn't. The end. Bravo.

Indesicion

Indescision can be a decision unto itself. The fact is he was never all in because he wouldn't (or couldn't) be. A man who wants a woman to be his isn't conflicted or indecisive. He sits and throws his arms around the woman he loves. The woman he'd do anything to be with. I'll never regret loving him. I'm okay with knowing perhaps he didn't love me. If he had truly been in love he'd be here now. There will be another man some day who will be all in-one who will erase your name from my skin. One who will not be indecisive or break my heart. I cannot imagine this man yet for I still feel your presence. But he will come and both of us will be all in.

The Great Pretender

He was good...sly that one. Manipulative, selfish, and self-serving. Sick. Oh so sick. A golden illusionist. Hit hard. Standing up on shaky legs. Hurt, stripped, sobbing. Realizing all of it was a mere mirage. The glass shatters. The illusion dissipates. I am set free.

Stabbed

I am bewildered. He betrayed me and tried to slay me. I feel sorry for him. "When they go low, we go high". I can only assume he turned tail to save his own ass-to blame his own bitter words on me. I believe in karma-I really do. I don't have to do anything other than let go. The universe has got this. It always does.  #vindication

Attention Whore

I admit it-I am an attention junkie. This does not infer I demand constant admiration or anything of the sort. People have full and happy lives (I consider myself to be one of them). I think my main issue with most men is their lack of follow through. The initial effort is sometimes there (where did all of the successful achievers disappear to?) Primarily I think it's laziness-a new generation of individuals who put in minimum effort expecting something for little or nothing. Come on men-get your shit together or do not try to engage me. Confidence and success are sexy. I love the thrill of the chase then (once you've caught my attention) bring it on home.

Sitting still

I am relearning the art of being still. To sit quietly and comfortably in my own skin. To know that I am okay. I am enough. At present I am laying down with my cat and listening to the thunder clouds roll in. It is heaven.  I may still be sad but I am also at peace. New opportunities are unfolding. I am excited yet content in this moment.  I don't know what the future holds but I trust in a power greater than myself to lead me there. I am seeing things with new eyes. Situations and relationships are not what they seemed to be. It's okay-I have learned great lessons and perhaps that was the point all along. To learn and grow-to continue on my spiritual journey.  I am healing gaping wounds I thought would never heal. I am so lucky and blessed today. My family is so strong and wonderful. We lift each other up. When one rises we are all lifted up. Thank you God for helping me to remember.