The reckoning and the revelling
Torn.
Do all people go through this painful metamorphosis when trying to combine the who we were in the past to the who we are now to the who we are trying to be.?.
For a longer than anticipated time.. I felt like my soul was dying. Chalked it up to being trapped in a house. A home. A costume of motherhood draped over my shoulders that I never asked for, but was too scared to hang up. Abortions. Still have not had one. Proud of that fact. Even if the end results sometimes leave me feeling like I have given all of myself up for some man I barely knew. I would sleep to dream and gradually could dream awake. Escape to the most creative corners of my imagination to be anywhere, but, here. This land of ordinary. Always peering out the windows waiting. Waiting for something or someone to show me the way back. I was so full of hate and rage .. because someone loved me. I took all the little things for granted and couldn't see the poetry of the everyday.
A stranger. Whose seed formed a dream in my womb. A man who didn't turn tail and run. A man.I can't fall asleep without him near me. Oh, the things I have put him through. My selfish self-loathing. All the while... he watched the train wreck of my reckoning...and waiting... smiles and laughs when I reach my revelling. Enjoys stories of past relationships, adventures, and misadventures as they may be.
Never . have I felt judged by him. And it has only taken five years to realize.. there is no replacement for this. There is nothing better somewhere lurking from the past. These pieces of me are just that.... pieces... but he. Holds them all. together.
He wouldn't ask me to change. And hopes I never do.
So. I am in there. That hopeful girl from a small town that paints her fingernails black even though her soul is more purple and orange than any other colors. He accepts the torment I put myself through. The over exaggeration of emotions and the irrationalities of insecurity.
He is the .Calm. Quiet. to hush my storms.
Do all people go through this painful metamorphosis when trying to combine the who we were in the past to the who we are now to the who we are trying to be.?.
For a longer than anticipated time.. I felt like my soul was dying. Chalked it up to being trapped in a house. A home. A costume of motherhood draped over my shoulders that I never asked for, but was too scared to hang up. Abortions. Still have not had one. Proud of that fact. Even if the end results sometimes leave me feeling like I have given all of myself up for some man I barely knew. I would sleep to dream and gradually could dream awake. Escape to the most creative corners of my imagination to be anywhere, but, here. This land of ordinary. Always peering out the windows waiting. Waiting for something or someone to show me the way back. I was so full of hate and rage .. because someone loved me. I took all the little things for granted and couldn't see the poetry of the everyday.
A stranger. Whose seed formed a dream in my womb. A man who didn't turn tail and run. A man.I can't fall asleep without him near me. Oh, the things I have put him through. My selfish self-loathing. All the while... he watched the train wreck of my reckoning...and waiting... smiles and laughs when I reach my revelling. Enjoys stories of past relationships, adventures, and misadventures as they may be.
Never . have I felt judged by him. And it has only taken five years to realize.. there is no replacement for this. There is nothing better somewhere lurking from the past. These pieces of me are just that.... pieces... but he. Holds them all. together.
He wouldn't ask me to change. And hopes I never do.
So. I am in there. That hopeful girl from a small town that paints her fingernails black even though her soul is more purple and orange than any other colors. He accepts the torment I put myself through. The over exaggeration of emotions and the irrationalities of insecurity.
He is the .Calm. Quiet. to hush my storms.