YOU are
photons in the dark,
beauty in a sea of ugly,
a rose growing from concrete,
rain in a drought,
sunshine in the winter,
love in the midst of hate,
pleasure erasing pain.
YOU are,
more than I ever fantasized about,
better than my dreams,
my one,
bursting at the seams.
YOU are,
the music to my every lyric,
I’ll shout it from the mountain top,
I want the whole world to hear it.
–S.
The room is clean, a candle is burning – the scent is eroko wood and moss. It is raining outside, and a ‘Relaxing Hang Drum Music for Meditation and Yoga’ video is playing from YouTube on my other tab.
I am on my period, bra-less, with tied up wet hair, wearing a face mask.
The scene is perfect for the pouring out of hearts. A safe place.
I find that although I have people that I would deem safe places for sharing – I still find myself censoring and toning down what is really in my heart and on my spirit.
So, to me, writing is the ultimate safe place.
My ultimate safe place.
–S.
Have you ever wanted to stuff everything you could into a backpack and get on the next bus running?
Look out of of the window until everything blurs into one?
Not even have to think?
See if the wind feels differently against your skin somewhere else. See if the sun rises using different colors. See if the smile that people give you actually reaches their eyes. Find out if the night sounds play a different melody.
Does the moon still watch you?
I am here,
but I am also on the bus.
I am still running.
–S.
Bathe me in flowers.
Bathe me with your arms.
Bathe me in your breath.
Bathe me with your flesh.
Bathe me with your love.
Bathe me with your trust.
Bathe me in your honesty.
Bathe me in your nearness.
Surround me with candles.
Surround me with your scent.
Surround me with your dreams.
Surround me with your fantasies.
Build me up with your inspiration.
Build me up with your touch.
Build me up with your promise.
I bask in your glory.
I fall at your feet.
I run my fingers through your hair,
I am home,
I am here.
–S.
Sometimes,
I wonder,
Can a person die from loneliness?
My ceiling fan stares back at me.
I am no closer to the answer than the last time I wondered.
–S.
Sometimes,
right before sleep takes over,
all I have left to give,
is a sigh.
–S.
I’m an old fashioned fool when it comes to love.
What I mean by that is – I’d prefer to bump into your cart at the grocery store in the produce section while I’m picking out lettuce – not on Tinder or Plenty of Fish.
That seems to not be the way of the world anymore and it makes it harder for old school fools like me.
Currently: Still waiting at the grocery store for my husband to show up.
Most of my friends are in relationships, married, and/or have kids. Or some combination of that.
The friends who are not in a relationship – are on some form of online dating application.
And from what I’ve been able to gather from their stories over the years – it’s awful.
It goes a little something like this.
The flame is ignited, the wax slowly making its way up and down the sides of the candle.
He lives with his parents right now, but he’s in school. He loves his dog, they’re best friends. A super adorable labradoodle.
He’s working two jobs, such a hard-worker. Saving up to buy a house.
He’s a military vet, currently working towards becoming a police officer.
He’s 30, no kids, a miracle right?
He’s been responding with pretty long messages. The conversation seems to be flowing.
He actually wants to know things about me, hasn’t mentioned sex at all.
The bits and pieces of men you’ve never met intrigue you until you find the one that keeps your attention for longer than one conversation.
The candlelight glows hungrily in their eyes at this point – the ‘Could this really be it, possibly the one?’ Light.
Some meet instantly, others after weeks and months of conversation. Texting turns into phone calls that turn into video chats.
Sometimes you’re lucky to meet in a public place and you’re shocked that you’re actually on a date. Sometimes awkward, sometimes okay.
Sometimes you’re unfortunate and asked to meet at their place and you hesitate because you know this usually means they are only after one thing – sex.
Sometimes your luck is downright shitty shit and you’re asked to meet in a Walmart parking lot or something on the same level of WTF as that.
The flame burns, but it flickers. Not glowing as strongly as it did when your conversation first started – the fantasy in your head not living up to the reality.
The date was awkward and could have gone better, but some conversation is better than no conversation. Plus, aren’t most first dates awkward, anyway?
You really didn’t want to be the girl who has sex on the first night, but the intimacy of a physical human connection keeps your flame burning.
The parking lot is mostly empty, except for an RV Camper, an 18 – wheeler and two handfuls of late night shoppers and employees. Although you both have your own place and there are several places you can think of off the top of your head that you could have stopped into for a bite to eat or a drink that seem better than a Walmart parking lot, the potential that this could be something more propels you forward. Plus, the breeze in the still of the night, the glow coming off of the lights, and the cars zooming past you on the highway could sorta be seen as romantic, right? Right. Positive Thinking.
The flame doesn’t grow as brightly as it once did. We’re almost at the end of the candle.
He never calls or texts after the date. You dissect every second of it. Do you chew with your mouth open? Not that you can recall. Should you have worn the v-neck instead of the higher neckline? Do you look like your profile pictures? Maybe he was disappointed about that.
The conversation dies after the sex, but the sex continues. The only messages he sends now are sexual in nature and wondering when he can see you next to bed you again. You go anyway. Something is better than nothing and maybe the conversation will pick up again.
You’re in his car now, grateful that the parking lot is mostly deserted. While he’s running his hands down your body and grunting in your ear – you can’t help but recall that he never asked for your name. He doesn’t even know your name and he’s spilling himself all over your hand. He groans out an emotionless ‘baby.’ Any optimism or wishful thinking you were feeling dies in the moment he calls you ‘baby.’ And you think that you will never shop at a Walmart ever again.
The flame is dying, the light is leaving their eyes.
I wonder who is closer to love – is it me, hopeful while picking out lettuce or is it the girl with the message notification on her phone from 29 year-old Thomas who likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain and thinks that’s still a catchy bio?
I don’t know the answer.
I’m just asking.
How do you know when you’re close to love?
How do you know when love has finally decided to pick you?
–S.
From 3 years ago.
Could you do something for me? Could you just hold on a second? Stop growing for a minute. Stay innocent a moment longer.
I’m not ready because I know what’s out there. I know that the world can break your heart a million ways to Sunday. And if I could somehow make it so, I’d shield you from it forever. I’d keep you in a bubble, so that I’d never have to see you hurt, down, or crying.
But then I’d be doing the world a disservice. Because your heart is one of a kind. I know that maybe I’m a little biased because you’re my baby brother. But I’ve seen you hold the door open for those who don’t have the same physical abilities we do. I’ve seen you cry at a Sarah McLaughlin commercial. I’ve heard your jokes. I’ve listened to you singing your favorite songs. I’ve seen you doing something you love. I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve seen your concentration when you draw. I’ve heard your hilarious comebacks when playing video games. I’ve seen your eyes light up when you’re building a Lego set. I’ve seen you love on a kitten. I’ve been amazed by your understanding of equality and the wisdom you possess beyond your years.
We never tried to shield you. We let you find your own opinions. Your own way.
And I know you’re going to be okay. Because you’re one of those people who is unapologetically themselves. A light in a too often dim world. A candle lighting the rest of the candles. A sparkler shooting sparks after the rest of the fireworks have died down.
But could you do something for me?
Could you just hold on a second?
I love you, E.
–S.
You are the strongest, toughest, funniest person that I know.
I can’t imagine a world you’re not a part of.
One where I don’t get to see your nostrils flare or hear your funny comeback.
One where I don’t get to see you loving mom or brother.
Knowing you’re somewhere living, breathing, loving, and laughing gives me the strength to always do the best that I can even when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
–S.
For me, love, above all else, should inspire.
I haven’t met that man yet.
I’ve met the childish one that wants you to do everything for him.
I’ve met not ready, but plays with the idea of being ready.
I’ve met can’t talk about my feelings.
I’ve met unfaithful.
I’ve met blame everything on you.
I’ve met can’t have an adult conversation/argument without mentioning a break-up.
I’ve met childhood trauma that they haven’t healed from yet.
I’ve met you should’ve stayed the fuck away from me.
I’ve met the alcoholic.
I’ve met I’m just wasting your time until the next best thing comes along.
I’ve met I just want somebody – it doesn’t really matter if its you.
But I have YET to meet – because of my love, I inspire you, daily, to be a better you.
And that’s okay.
Did I mention I was 31, and that most days I feel like I don’t have a damn thing figured out.
Be patient.
Don’t rush it.
It’s coming.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 