Lavender Butterflies

Sometimes I stumble over the pebbles that brush underneath my feet. To me they’re not pebbles, but rather, they’re boulders in the maze created in my heart that I’m trying to maneuver around without waking up.

These un-moveable giants sit there like markings of a grave site, where no one should enter. As you walk past them, you feel the weight of something as deep as death, only, spread out over years and decades, so you are still light enough to keep walking, but too heavy to fly anymore.

I get use to the way it keeps me crawling, like a caterpillar who watches the foxes and the birds whiz past, I crawl and crawl and crawl, until one day hopefully I am the butterfly, who sits on the lavender and flutters in the air like grace itself.

You see, until I met you, the butterfly was just a dream. A construct of my imagination that I created to allow the narration to say, “there is light at the end of this tunnel”. But now, I have seen you up close, and I see you move as a caterpillar too. Slowly, inch by inch, you crawl towards a better version of you each day.

How can I want so badly for you to become the butterfly you’re meant to be, and not also want to fly with you? How can I feel so strongly that this is possible for you, but not feel it is possible for me also?

My spirit reach’s out with a hand, only to have my heart grab it and pull it back in with the other. “No. You don’t know her. Not yet. You don’t know you can trust her. And until then, sit down. And be still, I’m in charge here”

You, pull me close with your eyes, but push me away with your hands “Stay back! – “ I can feel your heart say. “stay back………….but don’t leave”

Each time you push me away, I sigh with relief, that I may not have to climb over those boulders after all. Maybe I can just lay down, have a nap and melt into the grass beneath me, then reappear as dust floating away in the sky.

There are times, when I feel that the version of me you know, must be much different than the actual me. And I say this, fully aware that this is because I have only shown you, what I want you to see of me.

Like a fraction of the whole, I practice math in a reality where there are no numbers, only feelings and spirits that speak way more clearly. And I think, that part of that perception of me that you have, is that you think I want romance, or affection, or just the fuzzy young feeling of love and infatuation wrapped up with sex and a honeymoon express pill.

No……………………….. I wanted to show you my scars I wanted to show you that I know you more than you think I do, and that I am not capable of the honeymoon express pill, until I learn how to climb over these boulders that conspire to crush me if I get too close.

I want to. But I don’t trust. And I have buried my scars so deep that even I have a hard time finding them… Even I struggle to know which way the map goes, or if I’m even holding it up the right way.

You have shown me so much of you, so much of your pain, so much of the problems you’re working at overcoming. Even when you think you’re not showing me, when you say nothing, when you don’t talk about it, I can see it. And the entire time, I wish I could tell you that I’m so proud of you, for being able to speak about it, and to say out loud, or silently with your eyes…. what you have been through

Despite all of this, the real me hides in the shadow of the perception of me I have shown you, as a chameleon dressed in the invisible cloak. Where would I start? How could I say this, but not that? What will she think? The questions race around my mind, all the while I remember the new reality I engineered to cover the volcano that destroyed my previous life, and buried it in ash like the ancient cities from our ancestors. Gone……..With only rumors and old wives tales to know they were once there.

So push me away. Keep doing it. Go on… Push harder! Don’t stop until you feel safe… I’m use to it now. I expect you to do it, but still hope, like the dog who waits in the rain on the porch where its owner once stood, only to realize that he’s never coming back…that maybe. Maybe someday, someone will come.

But before you push me that final distance… listen to a few things I’m going to tell you.

I know, what it feels like to hear the screams, that no one should hear. I know what it’s like to have the violence and the fights in the rooms that are supposed to be safe I know what it’s like to retreat to your bed only to find out that your bed is no longer safe. I know what it’s like to have the betrayal on such a deep level from family I know what’s it’s like to be the family, that people talk about as the nightmare in the gossip. I know what it’s like to have the police be in your home, in your school, in your sports, and even in your dreams I know what it’s like to lose the people you love, and have them torn from you like a band-aid being ripped off before the wound is healed or ready. I know what it’s like to run away from it all, and cry as I’m running because I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here. I know what it’s like to be terrified to need to learn what it means to love again, and to start with defining what love is, and what love isn’t. I know what it’s like to be fucked with mentally, by the people you love, so that you start to believe what they’re truly telling you. I know what it’s like to not feel appreciated, to not feel like anyone sees me for what I’m trying to do, but rather only what they have concluded I am doing because it fits the motive they want to keep on replay. I know what it’s like to feel like I’m always treading water, and not know whether I’m ten feet from the shore or two hundred miles, because the fog is so thick. I know what it’s like to be the one to stand in the middle of two loves in your family and only want peace, while the war rages on. I know what is like, to protect others even when I am not safe. I know what is like to have tears so deep come out, that when they do, I can hardly believe the weight of them, like droplets of lead that were manufactured with science experiments. I know what it’s like to hold onto that pain, because after a while that feeling seems like all you have. I know what its like to not trust… Others, and sometimes not even myself. I know what it’s like to feel surrounded by craziness, where that craziness starts to feel like me, and I it… and that becomes normal. I know what it’s like to feel scared, where the feeling of your world being turned upside down happens over five minutes of time, and yet it can also feel like eternity… I know that its like to have this feeling of eternity, multiple times. I know what it’s like to bury the pain in the weed like a special secret ingredient, in order to scramble the decoder in our minds so it cannot process the information… to protect us from the feelings that come with understanding what has happened, and from asking…. “how do we rebuild?”

I know what’ it’s like to run, and god dammit I know what it’s like to push people away. So go on. Push… I understand why. There are so many things I have wanted to say but couldn’t. I never knew how. And I still don’t. I’d rather you push me away…

Actually, fuck it. I’ve told you to much. I’d rather run and chase lavender butterflies.