Like endless rain into a paper cup....
This was a weekend of weekends. I feel renewed, rejuvenated, recharged. I also feel anxious for change, geared toward generating happy, good things... I seem to have turned away from my endless trend toward pessimism and rediscovered my love for cheery, glittery hopefulness. I have fell in love with love. I feel fulfilled, or getting close to it. I feel relief.
I feel a passionate desire for closeness again- I have de-turtled and I am ready to adore and be adored. I want fingers in my hair and squeezes and pretty smells and beaming smiles... I want giggles and sensuality and whispered secrets again.
I want to spend hours listening to misty-eyed music and dreaming of sunsets and sunrises, of beaches and grassy open spaces, of shivering in a dusky, purple breeze.
I am embracing my humanity, my need for honesty and easy comfort. I am building, recycling broken trust and faith and hopes into what I can only imagine will be my sanctuary, my peace, my reconciliation.
I've lost a lot over the past year, a lot of faith in myself, in my safety; I've gained a new understanding of where I stand up against who I've always wanted to be. I'm on my way to becoming the whole, satisfied, adjusted person I thought I was before I stumbled into this miry pit of disassociating myself from what I knew to be true to focus on what I thought should be.
I want to love myself, not just as I do now, but completely and utterly and unconditionally. I want to remember how to love other people like that. I want to remember that bruises of the ego heal. I want to project myself outward and be loved for what and who I am, not for my shell, but for every fiber of real, flawed, vulnerable person that makes up this whole. I want to be forgiven, sanctified, not merely justified.
I have a lot to give, and a lot to offer. I want to start giving out in bucketfuls. Here's to new leaves, but especially to old leaves uncovered and nurtured back to health.
I feel a passionate desire for closeness again- I have de-turtled and I am ready to adore and be adored. I want fingers in my hair and squeezes and pretty smells and beaming smiles... I want giggles and sensuality and whispered secrets again.
I want to spend hours listening to misty-eyed music and dreaming of sunsets and sunrises, of beaches and grassy open spaces, of shivering in a dusky, purple breeze.
I am embracing my humanity, my need for honesty and easy comfort. I am building, recycling broken trust and faith and hopes into what I can only imagine will be my sanctuary, my peace, my reconciliation.
I've lost a lot over the past year, a lot of faith in myself, in my safety; I've gained a new understanding of where I stand up against who I've always wanted to be. I'm on my way to becoming the whole, satisfied, adjusted person I thought I was before I stumbled into this miry pit of disassociating myself from what I knew to be true to focus on what I thought should be.
I want to love myself, not just as I do now, but completely and utterly and unconditionally. I want to remember how to love other people like that. I want to remember that bruises of the ego heal. I want to project myself outward and be loved for what and who I am, not for my shell, but for every fiber of real, flawed, vulnerable person that makes up this whole. I want to be forgiven, sanctified, not merely justified.
I have a lot to give, and a lot to offer. I want to start giving out in bucketfuls. Here's to new leaves, but especially to old leaves uncovered and nurtured back to health.