Explosions

I wanted to wrap myself in a ball and roll down a mountain

She, in beauty, desired to fly

You explode into a swirling mix of smoke and sparks when you are entranced by the potential or actuality of love

a beautiful firework,

bright and confident,

bringing pleasure to both yourself and the world around you.

But when love ends?

You explode as well, only internally,

burning up your happiness, your dreams,

leaving behind a smoldering, uninhabitable mind full of doubt and loneliness.

I truly believe that I begin everyday optimistic and honest

Do all of my positive attributes really go so unnoticed?

One day I was lost, enclosed in a seemingly impenetrable bubble of despair and regret,

uncertain as to why I allowed myself to fall so far for a man

who did not intend to plummet with me.

The next day, however, something awoke within me;

it was a new feeling of hope and promise,

something I had not felt in a very long time.

The awakening did not erase the past.

No, life did not work that way,

and I do not really want it to.

But to be free is an overwhelming sensation;

one I had forgotten existed in my plan

to live my present-day life within the comforting arms of history.

when you persuade yourself that the past was a happier time—

a better, more complete, less dysfunctional stage of your life—

you lose everything that is beautiful about the present.

You are enough

I have come to hate the idea of being enough for “someone else”

There is no such thing

You are enough

You just don’t complete that particular person in the way they need

But don’t let that hurt you (as it has hurt me)

You are enough

The metaphoric cuts I mentioned—

the ones that were the deepest I had ever felt—

they healed quickly.

I feel like I am forever trying to catch up to a part of myself that is living just a little bit farther into the future.

The misconception is that love all feels the same the time

I have found that I disagree.

Some days feel lonelier than others;

Then again, there are moments where you are so blissfully happy,

Nothing could surmount the summit you have experienced.

It feels different with each person

With every passing hour

Minute

Second

Love is never the same, even when it is

Something goes with you when you give your soul to someone

be it an ability to trust again,

the manner in which you laugh,

or, simply,

a metaphoric chunk of the heart that has come to be a symbol of the emotion at hand.

“And then:” the swift, surprising transition from nothing to everything.

You will learn that sometimes the answers are simple

But coming to terms with the questions you need to ask yourself to get to those answers

Is what makes the journey of experiencing life so difficult.

our souls began our romance with the intention for an ending; however, it need not be a permanent conclusion

I continue to fall into the cyclic rhythm of realizing his nicety,

acknowledging my love for it,

falling for him more because of it,

and realizing it again;

I am to the point where my thoughts have become circles,

wisps of color and texture swirling in a haze of adoration

Our lust for future comfort is the biggest thief of life.

How do you let go of someone you have a million ties to?

Let me tell you, it is no easy feat.

I fear the only way to accomplish such a task is to

slowly,

gradually,

painstakingly

cut…

one or two ties at a time,

breaking your heart and soul with every moment that draws

the two of yours farther and farther apart.

It just didn’t feel right, and that, truthfully, is the fundamental flaw in all the things we choose to leave behind.

As I try to find my way out of the hole I have landed in,

I simply cling to flat walls and cry out

as dirt falls in my face and disrupts any progress I have made.

I am lost and afraid; what if he never finds me?

He went two, three, four times a night; but he never made me sing.

We were kissing, you having just tickled me

(you know how much I hate to love that),

And you pulled me close and kissed me again, but different this time

and every cell in my body wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss you

Sure, my lips were physically kissing you

But I could feel your kiss everywhere, in every part of me,

Lingering on the surface and buried deep within the confines of my soul

So, completely, everywhere, all at once

This man right here is special to you in ways you don’t understand yet.

It’s not about the pain, it’s about who it comes from.

You apologize, but it’s all in vain, because he treats me like I deserve;

Like the sun, the moon, the stars, and the galaxies that lay beyond

He’s figured out that I am out of this world

And while I am starting to see what he sees,

I figured out right away, so is he.

I am now starting to wonder if all of the feelings I felt for you were simply preparing me for meeting the love of my life

It’s quite difficult to move forward when one is stuck on a circular track of emotion.

I remember the first day after we ended whatever it was we started.

It was then that I finally felt my feelings were validated.

You sent several texts to me, thinking I was still

Available

Receptive

Easy.

Of all the things that were said

I remember you telling me that you missed me.

I had moved on,

in so many ways,

but your words brought me back to you,

for a split second….

you missed me.

And I felt validated.

And now, years on, that’s all that I remember.

Often I find that my heart and mind speak different languages.

It’s kind of ironic how we ended things because you wounded, nearly destroyed me, but for three years now I’ve been healing in my love’s arms while you’ve been out finding ways to deal with your own pain.

I have always found friendship to be a balance. You have to give and take, that’s what keeps the whole thing working. But you took what I offered and then robbed what I had stowed away for a rainy day; and ultimately stole the last of my caring heart from me until I had nothing left to offer but tears…and you, you even took those. And yet, you spat them back in my face with poisonous, hurtful, biased feelings because these were the only things that made you feel powerful. I hope you have learned that being a good person doesn’t come from stealing another person’s goodness; the truth is, you have to earn that honor all on your own.

We were in the shower and I looked at you and you looked at me and we laughed and laughed and laughed and I’m not sure I’ve loved you more.

I never imagined I could cry so much over someone, even though I probably have in the past. I never thought I could be so hurt, so heartbroken. But I also never thought I could feel so content, so quickly, with essentially a complete stranger. I can’t help but feel that this is just the beginning of my life (and heart) as I know it. Or as I don’t, because love is truly unpredictable.

I still see you everywhere.

It still hurts me when I see your name.

I cannot bear living without you.

You have so much power over me;

Without you, I search in agony for a sense of wholeness,

While with you I am profoundly, beautifully, magically myself.

You still have so much control over my life—

Nothing you asked for, I know—

And I just do not know how to move on from that.

How to escape from the grip that you either intentionally or

coincidentally have over me, myself, and I?

I am so in love with you.

I have tried so hard to fall in love with someone else,

rather, a few someone elses,

but I have found that to be impossible with you as my comparison.

And then that dam broke and the past came flooding in.

I am currently at the all-consuming phase

And I fret that the torment and beauty of it will never find a perfect harmony.

My situation is unique to many,

but I fear that anyone could argue the same for their own.

No circumstance can ever be the same,

no love in particular responds the same way,

and therefore the differences among

the millions that exist in the world

are quite legitimate despite my

selfish desire for mine to stand out.

I have wasted weeks thinking of the few moments we have actually been able to relish in each other’s company. My heart leaps as I think of the first time he kissed me, sitting in his car in his hometown in the middle of winter, after telling me he liked my earrings. I cannot forget the feeling of his hand in mine, his charming grin, or the wonderful sparkle in his eyes. He has been hurt so deeply, it is rather remarkable that it is still there. Nevertheless, I see it; I do, even when he cannot.

Life is too short to be half loved.

Our feelings—I suppose it is truly fair to call them love—blossomed as the world was ending. Thousands of people caught up in bonds of hatred and the impossible thirst for power, they were the backdrop of our romance, the memory I now associate with the months that were our relationship. To me, it happens to symbolize that our souls began our romance with the intention for an ending; however, it need not be a permanent conclusion. Hope is the ever-present condition of human nature that we as people forget about, failing to recognize its grasp on our days’ events second by second, but never forgetting that there is indeed one factor that causes us to stop and think, if even for a moment, of what we truly desire.

But that is the funny thing about life and the action of carrying the past with you. The past needs to be there for one to move forward, to make it possible to continue living. What makes up a person’s history occurred for a reason: to shape a person into whom they are meant to be.

I am inadequate in so many ways but you have never been one of them.