Love can be very confusing, especially if you've never been in love before. So how do you know if you're in love? We get a lot of messages about what love should look like through the media. We are shown what the idea of perfect love looks like in TV and movies. Most of us form our basic ideas about love and relationship from our early experiences from our caregivers. As we grow up, we continue to learn and come to our conclusions about what love is and what it looks like.
I miss you. I really do, but I don’t mean missing the intimacy, I miss you for you everything that made you so entrancing.
(Just a short preamble. The vast majority of this site is populated with young people with time to spare. That's good. I don't have as much time to spare, but I do have a few years in my savings account, and I want to spend some of it honoring people who have come through my life. Sherry is the first of a series I am going to do. Maybe reading this will give you an appreciation of the moments you are in and it will help you hold them a little closer knowing that one day they will be a memory.)
The cages were metal, rusting around the bottom edges. Crushed bananas, apple, cabbage, parsley, wedged into the cracks in arid brown earth, wilting away, wafting smells into the unbearable heat. It hadn’t rained here yet. We filled the water canisters from snake-like hoses across the 300 acres of land, returning back every time we were out.
Occasionally Dorothy would sit in her backyard around the area where her husband would have been buried. She would stare into the distance reminiscing about the memories her and her husband, John, shared. She couldn't believe it had been two years since he passed away, yet it felt like it was just yesterday. After his passing, she was in a great deal of pain. The pain was like an arrow slowly piercing her heart. Her life had just been turned upside down, nothing would ever be the same again. She would wake up every morning to set the table for two, but had to remember he was no longer there.
I just got confirmation that this was supposed to happen. Like why? Why can't I go. What do you want me to do now? I don't know who I am more upset with. Intu, my son's grandmother, or myself.
I'll be the first to admit that I didn't always love my blackness.
I have no idea how Oh had gotten a gun months before. Technically gun ownership is illegal for civilians in Thailand; they even blur them out on Thai television dramas. Oh had had an old rifle years before that he’d made himself out of piping, and a few of his friends had laughably ancient looking firearms he was always fascinated by. This gun he’d probably bought in June, when my husband was maxing out his credit cards buying gold and selling it back before they shut his borrowing down entirely. I couldn’t pay the card bill and was positive he wasn’t going to either.
"You left before I woke and now the room feels cold. Do I dare move from these crumpled sheets, this mattress that slumbers in the musk of you? In the twilight hours, you caught my breath between your teeth as I held your bleeding soul between my palms. Though I’d given you everything, I wanted to give you more. I longed to wrap your hollowed skeleton in my skin, and heave the fiery essence of you into my cold veins. Giving you my body was the least of it. The whole time, you held me like a glass vase, afraid to shatter my fragile walls. I begged for you to dive right in, and you danced around the surface, unsure of yourself, unsure of me. It’s okay though. I’m unsure of me, too. Unsure of the untamed scars etched into my being. Unsure of the starved, bone-thin frame this soul calls a home. Unsure of the wildfire burning, consuming, licking the backs of my pupils. I can feel it making its home there, in the back of my brain. An unquenchable curiosity, a never-ending ache. I leave the bodies of lovers piled in the wake of trying to destroy it. Perhaps you will be one too. Perhaps you will save me. Maybe I’ll save you. Who is to know? But as we wait to find out, let me dip my hands into the sloppy, wet mess of your soul as we morph into a single being on this wild planet we call home."
Take a moment to think back to your childhood. What's the first memory or thought that comes to mind? Is it happy or sad? Now take another moment to think about the relationship you had with your parents. In your recollection were they emotionally available? Did they have time for you to sit and chat about the most mundane things or were they always preoccupied with the demands of survival? Now when you get a moment speak to your parents about what their life was like when you were between the ages of zero to five years old. Were you in a loving environment? Did you maybe grow up in a single-parent home? All these things have a massive impact on the way that you now interact as an adult within your friendships and relationships.