this thing, called love
I keep playing around with the idea of starting a new blog, a non livejournal account. You know, sometimes we just outgrow things. It would be like running out of pages, and starting a new diary. The wonderfulness of new pages always feels like a fresh start, a chance to be someone new. A world where no one can read back into your past and point out your contradictions. A world where you can't read your past and relive the pain.
But here I am, squeezing my heart onto the same old worn and torn pages. I guess I'm just sentimental like that.
Crazy little thing called love. You'd know, if you've read, that love has ruled my world for the past three years. I've bowed down to her and done awful things for her, like mistreat myself. I battled love continuously without armor and spent every night crying over my battle wounds. I surrendered my entire being and found myself rejected over and over..to the point where there wasn't much of me left. And still I picked myself up, and tried again. And tried and tried and tried like a little warrior to win.
What makes us who we are? The ultimate question of nature vs. nuture. For instance, where do I attribute my endurance for love? I grew up in the middle of the love world, a monthly back and forth trade between polar opposites; my stubborn, verbally abusing stepfather + my submissive mother and my softhearted, reckless dad + my strong willed stepmom. Isn't it no doubt my sets of parents influenced my heart? Does this mean I can blame my mom for my willingness to be hurt repeatedly? No... blame is never an option in the decisions we make in life because no matter what influences we have.. there is always choice.
Choice is at the root of every life. Choice is a tough bitch. Make any moves with her, and you change the entire trajectory of your life. We choose who we are, make no mistake. Once you've learned to wipe your own ass you've got no one to blame for your shortcomings. Awful parents have produced miraculous children more than once, I'd like to consider myself one of the examples but he was never my father. He was just a man I lived with for 13 years. 13 years of being scared of making the wrong choices to satisfy him, and I do not blame him for the problems I've encountered with love and men. I knew he wasn't right all along. I knew his love was toxic, I had the training to recognize a man who would hurt you, so its my own fault for my heartbreaks. I made my own choices and I lay in my own bed.
At my lowest, last summer, I laid on a filthy kitchen tile floor in a one bedroom apartment for 3 days with red rimmed eyes, choking out City and Colour lyrics, only getting up to vomit the acid eating away at my stomach. Infidelity is the most painful thing you can do to someone in a relationship, this I know for sure. But after those three days and conversations with friends and being told over and over that I deserved better, I could stand again. And I was angry. I was so angry, but surprisingly it wasn't with my lover for betraying me. It was with myself. I vowed to make good choices.
One year later, I am back with the one who wounded me continuously. This is my choice. He is my choice. Lucky for me, he has chosen me too. And he isn't the boy I fell in love with, he's the man I always saw early in the mornings when he would kiss my forehead. He was there all along, but I wasn't his choice then, not yet. But I don't blame him for my heartbreak. He was my choice. Continuously I was hurt, and that was my choice too, because I didn't make the decision to walk away. And now? I admit it is hard to say I have no regrets. When I think about the pain that I endured its hard to say I wouldn't change a thing. It would've been great to date a bunch of guys, not let them in like I always did, use them for my own pleasure and not have a scratch on my heart. But it wouldn't have helped me grow. It wouldn't have taught me about love. And it wouldn't have fufilled my heart, because Id be holding on to my love for this man for the rest of my life. Because this love is not something I can outgrow. The love for this man will last a lifetime. This man is my soul mate, my souls recognition of its counterpart in another *wedding crashers.
The choices we make, therefore, are who we are. Nuture molds us. But undoubtedly, nature is there all along. Since I was a little girl, I've talked to myself in my head. I don't think that girl has changed, no matter how many choices I've made for her. My natural state, that my parents witnessed from me even as a baby, is softhearted. Affectionate. Trusting.
And I fell in love with his natural state. Guess what it is? Softhearted. Affectionate. Loving.
No matter what choices he made, that person was always there. And there are reasons why he made the choices he did, and there are reasons why he makes different ones now. It is just to deny someone for their bad choices, but it is possible to be a good person who makes bad choices. We've all definitely been there.
My soul saw something it wanted and I made choices with my heart, not my head. I guess I'm just sentimental like that.
But here I am, squeezing my heart onto the same old worn and torn pages. I guess I'm just sentimental like that.
Crazy little thing called love. You'd know, if you've read, that love has ruled my world for the past three years. I've bowed down to her and done awful things for her, like mistreat myself. I battled love continuously without armor and spent every night crying over my battle wounds. I surrendered my entire being and found myself rejected over and over..to the point where there wasn't much of me left. And still I picked myself up, and tried again. And tried and tried and tried like a little warrior to win.
What makes us who we are? The ultimate question of nature vs. nuture. For instance, where do I attribute my endurance for love? I grew up in the middle of the love world, a monthly back and forth trade between polar opposites; my stubborn, verbally abusing stepfather + my submissive mother and my softhearted, reckless dad + my strong willed stepmom. Isn't it no doubt my sets of parents influenced my heart? Does this mean I can blame my mom for my willingness to be hurt repeatedly? No... blame is never an option in the decisions we make in life because no matter what influences we have.. there is always choice.
Choice is at the root of every life. Choice is a tough bitch. Make any moves with her, and you change the entire trajectory of your life. We choose who we are, make no mistake. Once you've learned to wipe your own ass you've got no one to blame for your shortcomings. Awful parents have produced miraculous children more than once, I'd like to consider myself one of the examples but he was never my father. He was just a man I lived with for 13 years. 13 years of being scared of making the wrong choices to satisfy him, and I do not blame him for the problems I've encountered with love and men. I knew he wasn't right all along. I knew his love was toxic, I had the training to recognize a man who would hurt you, so its my own fault for my heartbreaks. I made my own choices and I lay in my own bed.
At my lowest, last summer, I laid on a filthy kitchen tile floor in a one bedroom apartment for 3 days with red rimmed eyes, choking out City and Colour lyrics, only getting up to vomit the acid eating away at my stomach. Infidelity is the most painful thing you can do to someone in a relationship, this I know for sure. But after those three days and conversations with friends and being told over and over that I deserved better, I could stand again. And I was angry. I was so angry, but surprisingly it wasn't with my lover for betraying me. It was with myself. I vowed to make good choices.
One year later, I am back with the one who wounded me continuously. This is my choice. He is my choice. Lucky for me, he has chosen me too. And he isn't the boy I fell in love with, he's the man I always saw early in the mornings when he would kiss my forehead. He was there all along, but I wasn't his choice then, not yet. But I don't blame him for my heartbreak. He was my choice. Continuously I was hurt, and that was my choice too, because I didn't make the decision to walk away. And now? I admit it is hard to say I have no regrets. When I think about the pain that I endured its hard to say I wouldn't change a thing. It would've been great to date a bunch of guys, not let them in like I always did, use them for my own pleasure and not have a scratch on my heart. But it wouldn't have helped me grow. It wouldn't have taught me about love. And it wouldn't have fufilled my heart, because Id be holding on to my love for this man for the rest of my life. Because this love is not something I can outgrow. The love for this man will last a lifetime. This man is my soul mate, my souls recognition of its counterpart in another *wedding crashers.
The choices we make, therefore, are who we are. Nuture molds us. But undoubtedly, nature is there all along. Since I was a little girl, I've talked to myself in my head. I don't think that girl has changed, no matter how many choices I've made for her. My natural state, that my parents witnessed from me even as a baby, is softhearted. Affectionate. Trusting.
And I fell in love with his natural state. Guess what it is? Softhearted. Affectionate. Loving.
No matter what choices he made, that person was always there. And there are reasons why he made the choices he did, and there are reasons why he makes different ones now. It is just to deny someone for their bad choices, but it is possible to be a good person who makes bad choices. We've all definitely been there.
My soul saw something it wanted and I made choices with my heart, not my head. I guess I'm just sentimental like that.