...but being that this blog is serving as my personal diary, and the last week and a half has been a bit melancholy, to say the least, I have decided I'm okay with that. Life is a journey for a reason - some roads are bumpy and uphill and some just coast.
I had the most amazing weekend. TB and I spent the weekend with my parents and the kids, and this is the first time in a long time TB has been able to see my children.
We spent the weekend laughing. We played board games, we ate good food, we tickled and giggled and spent time at the library watching an independent short film (my son wants to be a film editor and producer, so this was meaningful for him) and we parted ways today with bittersweet goodbyes until next time.
This was a big step for a few reasons. My ex doesn't know about TB, not because I'm secretive but because this has been complicated and hurtful and he has been physically threatening to both of us should he find out we're together, and as a result I've not felt comfortable telling him. But my children deserve the kind heart and goodness TB gives them, and he deserves the joy and love they bring, and I decided it was time.
I knew it wouldn't be pretty tonight, though, when the past and the present collided and the cat fell headfirst out of the metaphorical bag. Sure enough, (giving the short version here) he called, he screamed, he threatened our lives, and police were called.
Mind you, he has a girlfriend. I thought perhaps he had moved on and we could finally do the same in peace. I hope somehow we still can, because this life I've been living is so wonderful, and my kids are such a part of it, and it breaks my heart that maybe we can't just simply move on and coparent lovingly and I have said I'm Utopian in my views before but I'll probably repeat it again so many times, but I always feel like Occam's Razor is the best way - the simplest idea is usually correct. The path of just signing our finale and moving on to the next chapter haunts me daily, if only it could be so easy.
I finally finished the petition for decree of dissolution of marriage tonight, and I'll file it tomorrow. I should have already done this, I know, but I am so intimidated by the process... so terrified that I'm going to misstep and complicate this further that I keep putting it off and putting it off and now is the time, here is the place, and it's saved to my desktop and ready to file so hopefully tomorrow I feel as courageous as I do tonight and the deed can be done. I know it's only the first step of many but every journey begins with one small step so cheers to that sentiment.
This has been a day of many emotions, and judging from my writing this evening, many run-on sentences. TB is sleeping on the couch because I'm sitting up, feeling anxious, and he didn't want to make me sit alone. I'm watching him, grateful he is still here. He sent me a text earlier... I know we were in the same house but he respects how much written (or typed) words mean to me, I think, and knew sending it to my phone when I could see it with time rather than hear it in the second it would have taken to speak would be so much more impactful. I had apologized for being so complex, for his placement into a complicated situation and his position of recipient of the harshness and anger derived from hurt given to my ex. I explained that at any moment, I understand if he needs to walk away from this, from threatening phone calls, from concern about physical threats and angrily spoken words. He sent me three words, and they spoke volumes.
"You're worth it."
Referencing my earlier blog post, I know my value as a person... but it is a completely rational reason to move on, when your life is being threatened and you're concerned for your well-being and you're being screamed at through the phone, but he stays regardless. I'm glad he does, and I do believe that I'm worth it, and so is he should it have been a reverse situation, but nevertheless I'm glad he believes it, too.
I'm not even sure how to finish my thoughts here, I feel spent but alert, exhausted but unable to rest. I hoped writing some of my emotion out would help, and perhaps it has, yet here I sit, clicking away, with nothing left to say. I'll resolve it by simply saying goodbye... I'll visit again soon.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
A somewhat depressing crash course in Life 101
Grief, sadness, anger, loss, resentment... these emotions are filled with such intensity, that to feel any of them leaves the bearer with such a complete sense of exhaustion, there's not even energy left over to explain.
T and I got home from Pop's funeral last night around 7... We spent Friday night through Tuesday evening talking, and baking, and preparing, and mourning, and reading, and loving, and sharing. And all of those -ings are enough to completely break any emotional threshold a person has, whether they be strong (like T) or wrought with emotion (like me.) I felt so blessed to be included as family, but I wish I could have eased some of the pain.
Today has been gray all around. The gray sky has no seam, it's a circle of monotony that knows no limit by compass; whichever direction you look, the earth meets the sky and all is gray. It's the perfect physical manifestation for what's left over inside after spending days mourning a great loss.
There are lessons in all things, bits of imparted wisdom dangling off the tree of life, just waiting to be plucked down by anyone paying enough mind to the universe to catch it before it falls... I think T is learning the value of time and the sheer weight of knowing that it can't be replaced. He's in the process of all of the "I wish's," the part where you see things and say "We were always going to go there, but we never made it... I wanted to take him to see that, but we never figured out a time..." and that's the most tragic realization of all. I'm not sure he knows this is what's happening, and I'm not sure I'm correct in my observation... but it's what I'm hearing and you better believe I'm listening.
I remember when my mother died, and I learned the value of time. It was the same moment, the same instant in fact, that I also learned the value of words. When dealing with intangible ideas, you can't take anything away. You can't unlearn or unsee or unhear or unthink something once its presence has been made clear. The same instant I realized how valuable the time with my mother was, I realized how valuable the words were we shared. These are two intricate stories I'll share another time, maybe, but for now I'll suffice it to say that losing someone close is a crash course in Life 101, whether we want it or not, and we'd all do well to realize that lesson is coming and grab it while we have the chance. Words spoken and unspoken are of equal importance... somehow we find it easy to let hate fall out and love hide within.... how often do you look at someone you love and just simply say the kindness you're thinking? Probably not often enough. How often do you look at the same person and tell them their hair is out of place, or they need to cut their nails, or they should have taken out the trash or could have made dinner or on and on and on until you're blue in the face with criticism? Probably more times than you care to admit.
Life 101 - bring a notebook. Write it down. Don't forget it, this isn't a class you can take again.
Friday, January 13, 2017
Dear T,
Losing someone is never easy, especially when it's one of the closest people in your life.
Watching someone you love lose someone is an entirely different kind of hard. It's not as hard, not nearly, but it's frustrating and infuriating to sit by and watch the deepest and most sorrowful hurt attack the person you love most, and be completely helpless in making it stop. You can't take it away, you can't say anything, you can't do anything...
The Boyfriend's grandfather passed away last night. This was an incredible man, a man that built a family and a legacy that will live on for so long, the man responsible for bringing up some of the best people I've ever had the honor of knowing. TB was raised by this man, and my heart is broken into a million pieces for him.
Having lost someone that close before, I know there is absolutely nothing anyone can say or do to make this better, and it shouldn't be better. The amount of pain is equal to the amount of love, and it's a blessing, albeit in disguise, that this man was worthy of such heartbreak. And yet, though I've been on the other side and I've cried and screamed and begged and pleaded and have never been the same since, I still sit here helplessly watching as this pain invades people I care about so deeply.
We do our best to be whatever we need to be in times like this, but people receive grief so differently, no way is the right way. I realize how southern I am, my pull... my core being, my instinct and insatiable desire... is to feed them all. To make casseroles and desserts and things that freeze well and easy to grab snacks and foods that don't require many dishes, you name it, I want them to eat it. I am fighting this, but I'm positive TB will have a buffet of food to choose from tonight, and a lot packaged up to take with him for his family, too.
What to tell him, though... I guess since I'm not sure whether to tell him or not, I'll say it here... Maybe he can read it someday, maybe not. But either way, these are things he should know.
Dear T,
I love you so much. You are so loved, all around in a huge circle, not just me but your mom and Nanny and Pop and all the rest. You have come so far and you have made all of us so proud, especially Pop. I know you're scared. I know you're worried that he didn't know who you have become, that your past sometimes eats away at you. I didn't get to spend the time with you both together the way I wish I had, but I can say this. You were his person, his favorite. You brought him comfort and joy and laughter and care and love, pure and unfiltered love, over and over again in waves and made his life better. You were the bright spot and baby, that's why this hurts so bad. You walk around and you know this is a whole different world, a world existing without a key piece, and you wonder how these strangers in stores, at work, all around can just go on as if nothing has happened, as if it's just another day. You realize that they don't know, they have no idea the loss to the world that has just transpired. There are things that will never be the same again... things that I know and things that only you know. You're going to look at ketchup with a filter now, a muted and subdued filter. You're going to think about Pop every time you put ketchup on absurd things. You're going to look at guacamole all different now, with a muted and subdued filter. Fishing, the shows you watched together, the food you ate, the drinks you drank, the memories you shared have now moved from the category of silly childhood memories to fond but painful reminders, and you'll do them more and you'll do them less because of it. But baby, know this... you made these memories for him, too. Every ounce of joy you feel through your pain when you look back and see his face and hear his voice and are reminded of why he matters so much... that is matched in how he felt for you. You matter too, to him, to all of us. He knows you were there for him, all the way to the end, and he knows that you wanted to make him proud, and he is. He is proud. Sometimes you're going to completely lose your shit, and cry, and your chest will hurt, and that's just because he did such a damn fine job loving you, and those moments should be treasured because every tear you shed is a piece of love you send to him, every time it hurts it's proof that his existence was worth it. And then those times will be fewer and fewer and less and less, and someday the filter you see your memories through will be slightly less clouded, always a little sad, but they'll be fond again, they'll be the things you tell people that will never understand. I don't know what I can do for you, for your mom, for Nanny... But I will watch carefully and do my best to be whatever you need me to be right now, and I'm sorry if I'm getting it wrong. Just know that I'm here, and I'm not the only one... your network has grown and expanded and is stronger than ever and this web we all have woven is here to catch you if you need to fall. I know you won't, you're the strongest man I've ever known... but it's here all the same.
Love you more...
Me
Watching someone you love lose someone is an entirely different kind of hard. It's not as hard, not nearly, but it's frustrating and infuriating to sit by and watch the deepest and most sorrowful hurt attack the person you love most, and be completely helpless in making it stop. You can't take it away, you can't say anything, you can't do anything...
The Boyfriend's grandfather passed away last night. This was an incredible man, a man that built a family and a legacy that will live on for so long, the man responsible for bringing up some of the best people I've ever had the honor of knowing. TB was raised by this man, and my heart is broken into a million pieces for him.
Having lost someone that close before, I know there is absolutely nothing anyone can say or do to make this better, and it shouldn't be better. The amount of pain is equal to the amount of love, and it's a blessing, albeit in disguise, that this man was worthy of such heartbreak. And yet, though I've been on the other side and I've cried and screamed and begged and pleaded and have never been the same since, I still sit here helplessly watching as this pain invades people I care about so deeply.
We do our best to be whatever we need to be in times like this, but people receive grief so differently, no way is the right way. I realize how southern I am, my pull... my core being, my instinct and insatiable desire... is to feed them all. To make casseroles and desserts and things that freeze well and easy to grab snacks and foods that don't require many dishes, you name it, I want them to eat it. I am fighting this, but I'm positive TB will have a buffet of food to choose from tonight, and a lot packaged up to take with him for his family, too.
What to tell him, though... I guess since I'm not sure whether to tell him or not, I'll say it here... Maybe he can read it someday, maybe not. But either way, these are things he should know.
Dear T,
I love you so much. You are so loved, all around in a huge circle, not just me but your mom and Nanny and Pop and all the rest. You have come so far and you have made all of us so proud, especially Pop. I know you're scared. I know you're worried that he didn't know who you have become, that your past sometimes eats away at you. I didn't get to spend the time with you both together the way I wish I had, but I can say this. You were his person, his favorite. You brought him comfort and joy and laughter and care and love, pure and unfiltered love, over and over again in waves and made his life better. You were the bright spot and baby, that's why this hurts so bad. You walk around and you know this is a whole different world, a world existing without a key piece, and you wonder how these strangers in stores, at work, all around can just go on as if nothing has happened, as if it's just another day. You realize that they don't know, they have no idea the loss to the world that has just transpired. There are things that will never be the same again... things that I know and things that only you know. You're going to look at ketchup with a filter now, a muted and subdued filter. You're going to think about Pop every time you put ketchup on absurd things. You're going to look at guacamole all different now, with a muted and subdued filter. Fishing, the shows you watched together, the food you ate, the drinks you drank, the memories you shared have now moved from the category of silly childhood memories to fond but painful reminders, and you'll do them more and you'll do them less because of it. But baby, know this... you made these memories for him, too. Every ounce of joy you feel through your pain when you look back and see his face and hear his voice and are reminded of why he matters so much... that is matched in how he felt for you. You matter too, to him, to all of us. He knows you were there for him, all the way to the end, and he knows that you wanted to make him proud, and he is. He is proud. Sometimes you're going to completely lose your shit, and cry, and your chest will hurt, and that's just because he did such a damn fine job loving you, and those moments should be treasured because every tear you shed is a piece of love you send to him, every time it hurts it's proof that his existence was worth it. And then those times will be fewer and fewer and less and less, and someday the filter you see your memories through will be slightly less clouded, always a little sad, but they'll be fond again, they'll be the things you tell people that will never understand. I don't know what I can do for you, for your mom, for Nanny... But I will watch carefully and do my best to be whatever you need me to be right now, and I'm sorry if I'm getting it wrong. Just know that I'm here, and I'm not the only one... your network has grown and expanded and is stronger than ever and this web we all have woven is here to catch you if you need to fall. I know you won't, you're the strongest man I've ever known... but it's here all the same.
Love you more...
Me
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Playing catch-up with my soul
Divorces are hard.
I feel so conflicted about that, they shouldn't be hard on one hand... When two adults decide that their directions are not the same, it seems they should be able to come to an agreement... you get this, I'll take that, I'm sorry I hurt you, I forgive you for hurting me, and let's arrange the kids in a way that best suits them not us. The end.
I also understand that it should be hard because the whole sanctity of marriage should remain intact, whether it be a man and a woman or a man and a man or two people that don't identify either way, stating that you promise to love and accept til death do us part, that should be honored to the best of our ability.
Conflicted.
Today is a conflicted day. I'm trying to get a divorce finalized and the emotions that stir and hurt that comes back to the surface make it hard to speak to each other. Not in an argumentative and finger pointing way, but more wistful, I wish this hadn't worked out this way... I tried, I did all I knew how to do, I'm so sorry. It's emotionally exhausting and I can only speak for myself but I wish it could just be finished.
If I've learned anything, I've learned that true love is so anecdotal. So many people have stories of childhood romance, young love that is still burning bright thirty, forty, fifty years later. Of course, even the strongest love faces hurdles, probably almost daily. Marriage takes work. It takes communication and sacrifice on both parts, and the fairy tale is real but so is the effort put in to create the story.
But young love that survives has come to feel so rare, so treasured to me... it's so hard to grow together into adulthood and stay on the same path, going the same direction as your partner, even after all of your growing and developing is done. I do believe in soulmates, and I do believe in true love, in so many forms, but I don't know that I believe anymore that true love can always survive every circumstance, that love really conquers all.
I think, I hope, that I'm wrong. I think I just feel this way at this moment right now, I think the truth is that sometimes what we are recognizing as our one true love is such because we haven't fully prepared ourselves for who we need to be in order to be the best of ourselves when it's time to commit to our life's purpose, whether that be "the one" or "the career" or our children or whatever the thing is that gives you purpose on earth... I think the truth is that we have to open our hearts and minds to the realization that when something is finished, our souls know it is so and are ready to move on, and the rest of us just has to catch up.
I think that's what happened to me. One day, after years of trying and trying and trying again, years of hoping for growth and peace, I had to realize that I wasn't giving up or giving in. I was just catching up with my tired soul.
I can say this... I am emotionally drained today. I'm ready for my past to be at rest so it can catch up with my soul. My soul, however, finally feels at peace for the first time in a very long time, and for that I am grateful.
I feel so conflicted about that, they shouldn't be hard on one hand... When two adults decide that their directions are not the same, it seems they should be able to come to an agreement... you get this, I'll take that, I'm sorry I hurt you, I forgive you for hurting me, and let's arrange the kids in a way that best suits them not us. The end.
I also understand that it should be hard because the whole sanctity of marriage should remain intact, whether it be a man and a woman or a man and a man or two people that don't identify either way, stating that you promise to love and accept til death do us part, that should be honored to the best of our ability.
Conflicted.
Today is a conflicted day. I'm trying to get a divorce finalized and the emotions that stir and hurt that comes back to the surface make it hard to speak to each other. Not in an argumentative and finger pointing way, but more wistful, I wish this hadn't worked out this way... I tried, I did all I knew how to do, I'm so sorry. It's emotionally exhausting and I can only speak for myself but I wish it could just be finished.
If I've learned anything, I've learned that true love is so anecdotal. So many people have stories of childhood romance, young love that is still burning bright thirty, forty, fifty years later. Of course, even the strongest love faces hurdles, probably almost daily. Marriage takes work. It takes communication and sacrifice on both parts, and the fairy tale is real but so is the effort put in to create the story.
But young love that survives has come to feel so rare, so treasured to me... it's so hard to grow together into adulthood and stay on the same path, going the same direction as your partner, even after all of your growing and developing is done. I do believe in soulmates, and I do believe in true love, in so many forms, but I don't know that I believe anymore that true love can always survive every circumstance, that love really conquers all.
I think, I hope, that I'm wrong. I think I just feel this way at this moment right now, I think the truth is that sometimes what we are recognizing as our one true love is such because we haven't fully prepared ourselves for who we need to be in order to be the best of ourselves when it's time to commit to our life's purpose, whether that be "the one" or "the career" or our children or whatever the thing is that gives you purpose on earth... I think the truth is that we have to open our hearts and minds to the realization that when something is finished, our souls know it is so and are ready to move on, and the rest of us just has to catch up.
I think that's what happened to me. One day, after years of trying and trying and trying again, years of hoping for growth and peace, I had to realize that I wasn't giving up or giving in. I was just catching up with my tired soul.
I can say this... I am emotionally drained today. I'm ready for my past to be at rest so it can catch up with my soul. My soul, however, finally feels at peace for the first time in a very long time, and for that I am grateful.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Have I mentioned my inconsistency?
I can't believe we have only had one week of 2017 and I've already missed two blog posts. Maybe even three.
I'm working on it. Baby steps.
Honestly, there isn't much to say about the last couple of days... It's been cold and snowy and pleasant and simple and sort of disastrous in parts and... well, I'll tell a funny story.
The Boyfriend and I woke up on Friday morning, as did the rest of Oklahoma (mostly), to blankets of snow covering all the things. It was lovely to look at but, as is usually the case, it was a pain in the ass to navigate our life through, particularly for The Boyfriend. He woke up first, before the sun, and took Major and Molly (The Dogs) outside. After, he came back in and woke me with news of snow. The morning so began pleasantly enough, I made breakfast and we casually got dressed for the day. The Boyfriend went out to start my car so it could thaw out and barely inches from the front door, lost his footing on the slick polished concrete and faceplanted directly into the snow. Then, bless his heart, after I brushed him off, he busted his head getting into the car hard enough to rattle his teeth. He came back in to a clogged toilet (we won't point fingers at who was to blame for that) and couldn't use the restroom. At all. We finally leave, he pumps gas in 10 degree air, and two miles later... a flat tire. He handled all of these things like a champ and barely complained, but you could tell this was not a day he was feeling positive about. A couple hours later, a healthy dose of perspective made its way into his afternoon, as it usually does.
A homeless man asked him how his day was. The Boyfriend started telling him about his rough morning, then the realization sank in that he was complaining about his toilet, his house, his front porch, his car to a person that literally has none of the above.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again... perspective.
What a blessing Friday ended up being... So much laughter (albeit at his expense) and such a fulfilling and contented life we lead, and I'm just glad he's open minded enough to clean his inner window when it starts getting a little fuzzy... He's pretty good at seeing things clearly.
As I sit here typing, I can see him in my peripheral vision, just standing in the doorway, watching Indiana Jones, a pleasant smile touching the corners of his lips for no reason other than the fact that it's his go-to face... Right now, my window is feeling pretty clean too.
I'm working on it. Baby steps.
Honestly, there isn't much to say about the last couple of days... It's been cold and snowy and pleasant and simple and sort of disastrous in parts and... well, I'll tell a funny story.
The Boyfriend and I woke up on Friday morning, as did the rest of Oklahoma (mostly), to blankets of snow covering all the things. It was lovely to look at but, as is usually the case, it was a pain in the ass to navigate our life through, particularly for The Boyfriend. He woke up first, before the sun, and took Major and Molly (The Dogs) outside. After, he came back in and woke me with news of snow. The morning so began pleasantly enough, I made breakfast and we casually got dressed for the day. The Boyfriend went out to start my car so it could thaw out and barely inches from the front door, lost his footing on the slick polished concrete and faceplanted directly into the snow. Then, bless his heart, after I brushed him off, he busted his head getting into the car hard enough to rattle his teeth. He came back in to a clogged toilet (we won't point fingers at who was to blame for that) and couldn't use the restroom. At all. We finally leave, he pumps gas in 10 degree air, and two miles later... a flat tire. He handled all of these things like a champ and barely complained, but you could tell this was not a day he was feeling positive about. A couple hours later, a healthy dose of perspective made its way into his afternoon, as it usually does.
A homeless man asked him how his day was. The Boyfriend started telling him about his rough morning, then the realization sank in that he was complaining about his toilet, his house, his front porch, his car to a person that literally has none of the above.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again... perspective.
What a blessing Friday ended up being... So much laughter (albeit at his expense) and such a fulfilling and contented life we lead, and I'm just glad he's open minded enough to clean his inner window when it starts getting a little fuzzy... He's pretty good at seeing things clearly.
As I sit here typing, I can see him in my peripheral vision, just standing in the doorway, watching Indiana Jones, a pleasant smile touching the corners of his lips for no reason other than the fact that it's his go-to face... Right now, my window is feeling pretty clean too.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Dear Cari, I'm sorry...
I did ask permission before posting the above chat with my friend... She was reading my blog (so kind of you, by the way, Cari) and she referenced my post from yesterday. I responded quickly, without thought, and after a few drinks very late in the evening. I dislike my response greatly. I apologize, Cari... I answered like a twit, like Katherine Heigl would have answered in the voiceover at the end of a romcom, and no one should have to read Katherine Heigl's voiceover to themselves from a chat sent to them at 12:46 am. No one.
First of all, the quote in question:
"But the simple joy of waking up every day and living my life is so overwhelming, it has it's own face now."
Let me tell you a story.
June 16, 2016... This is a day that I'll never forget. This is a story I can only tell here, in this safe spot, where no one knows I write things except the people I choose to tell.
This is the day I broke. I am not always good with my finances, anyone that knows me well knows this about me. It's never an intentional issue, I just get ADHD'd out and forget things sometimes until I go to flip the switch and the light doesn't come on but the light in my head does and I realize oh shit, if I don't pay the lights they don't work, isn't that what adulting is all about?? Paying the lights???
I can completely understand a partner being upset when something big like lights or, say, rent (as was the case on June 16, 2016) is forgotten. I can understand being frustrated. I can understand not patting someone on the head and saying "There, there, little Lindsay... We didn't need a place to live anyway." It was not that severe, it just required a phone call and a payment to the owner of the house and a sincere apology to remedy, but still. I can definitely understand someone's frustration.
What I can't understand is how anyone that loves someone can scream so loudly that the phone can be placed on the dash while the receiver of the screaming is driving and still be heard clearly. What I can't understand is how words can so easily fall out of a mouth... words like cunt, and bitch, and waste, and burden, and phrases intermingled with those words like you ruin everything, you're failing your family, you're the worst thing, you, you, you youyouyou... What I can't understand, and what broke me that day, was the realization that these words, this tone, this exact situation-whether brought on by money or by unwashed clothes or dishes or unswept floors or being late coming home or any discrepancy at all had the same reaction. What broke me was the realization that I didn't have to believe it to be true. What broke me further was the realization that I had always believed it to be true.
I'm all about taking responsibility, and not being perfect, and working together as a team to remedy those imperfections so that we can grow and change for the better as people.
That day I decided I was done being a one man team. I was finished with the knot in my stomach as I drove home every single day, to a house with three people living inside, two that ran up to greet me with kisses and hugs every day and one that didn't move from his spot in front of the TV, then began a completely redundant list daily of things I did wrong or didn't do at all.
I was done believing that no one could ever want me because I'm overweight, because I'm too tall for a woman to be attractive, because I sometimes forget to pay a bill, because I have imperfections. Because I'll never be good enough.
June 16, 2016 was the day that I figured out once and for all that I'm fucking good enough.
So a better response, Cari, is this (and I know it's the very best of all of the responses because I'm typing it with tears streaming, and I've tapped into that part of myself that I am still working on, and that I occasionally find bits of floating around that need putting back together, and thank you for your late night message because now one of those pieces is rightfully back in it's little place.)
While having someone in my life now that also genuinely believes that I'm good enough, better, even, than I could ever give myself credit for, is very nice and peaceful and wonderful, he wouldn't be here without this realization...
I am fucking enough.
I am smart, and beautiful, and overweight, and tall, and beautiful, and smart, and capable, and brilliant, and one in seven billion and counting, and there is no one else that is me and that is fucking enough.
That belief, that knowledge, allows my eyes to close peacefully at night and open like a Disney princess in the morning and Beyonce should be jealous some days because my entire life changed with the one simple yet complicated realization that words are not always true and people we trust with our hearts are not always kind and trustworthy and we don't need them to give us worth in the first place so why, oh why, Cari, do we keep insisting on placing our self worth and value in the hands of someone else?? No one in the world is good enough to hold our self worth in the palm of their hands.
That, sweet Cari, is why I am overwhelmed with the simplicity of existing now. I hope I never lose sight of the sheer gift of waking up every day to peace, and joy, and quiet happiness with exactly who I am and exactly what I have and everything else just seems to fall into place.
Finding a love that appreciates that has value and worth on it's own, away from that, but that kind of love can never exist without self love first.
You'll get there... you're fucking enough, too.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
My obligatory post for the day...
Today I have nothing to say. I've had one of the best weeks I've ever had, and nothing special has happened. It's only Wednesday and "I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend."
The mere act of existing and eating and drinking and living and loving has overwhelmed me with the simplest of joy with no explanation required.
I have no deep thoughts, no wisdom, and no ponderings of the existentialism of our existence.
Today I am simply happy. I have had a meal prepared with love by someone I love, and drink poured by the same, and music and laughter and all negativity be damned.
Today, I am.
This is my obligatory post for the day.
The mere act of existing and eating and drinking and living and loving has overwhelmed me with the simplest of joy with no explanation required.
I have no deep thoughts, no wisdom, and no ponderings of the existentialism of our existence.
Today I am simply happy. I have had a meal prepared with love by someone I love, and drink poured by the same, and music and laughter and all negativity be damned.
Today, I am.
This is my obligatory post for the day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)