Loving the Moon

Consumed and damned….I fell hopelessly in love with the Moon. Sunsets allow the sun to sleep, and allow me the chance to catch a glimpse of the one thing so beautiful, yet so far away. Why don’t I love the sun? Why couldn’t I fall in love with the sunrise? The sunset? Oh, but that would be far to easy.

My moon leaves me in endless wonder. My eyes look up and take in the glimmer of stars…as if looking at a living set of souls smiling upon me. I bask in the glow of a midnight summer.

Ian is my moon. Even on the dark days, he brings a beautiful light to my life…my silver sun. He consumes me in such a way that even love stories would be jealous. My soul screams for him….needs him in a way that I could never verbally say. Why am I so complicated? I miss him and yet I can’t say it….I trust him and yet I won’t open my mouth to make myself vulnerable….I won’t go see him because I already know the moment I see him…tears will flow from the overwhelming feelings that would consume me. A love so real and so deep, no words can describe it. He is in my everyday.. my motivation.. the smile I wear. Even as days pass…  words few and far between, he is never far in my mind. Why am I so terrified?

I….am an awkward mess of insecurities. He deserves so much better than I can offer right now. I have been in intense counseling now for a month to help me get over the shit I endured…my trauma. I am learning to let go…..to just feel…forgive… and free myself from the weight of the past. I know that is the reason I won’t go…I don’t want him to see me the way that I see myself.


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Broken Crayons and the Canvas of Life

We are all broken. Broken in ways we will never be the same.  Our lives become obstacles of walls we place to maze those through in means to protect ourselves. I am more guilty of this than most. The irony? Wanting a fairy-tale ending and yet being scared to take the risk.

I have had my walls begin to fall. There is one that has spoken to my very core in such a way that I can not drown out the sound of his voice. I find myself in my maze of walls and dark forests….following a sound that I can’t get out of my mind. Each turn I face the obstacles I have place to protect me, the thoughts that have controlled me. I am testing my armor. With each turn, I battle the thoughts that kept me confined and isolated. I have never wanted anything so much in my life….to be free from the fortress that I have spent endless hours for years building. Unlike most fairy-tales, where the knight saves the princess…..I am fighting. I am fighting for myself…I am fighting for him.

The weight of my chains make movement so incredibly difficult, but not impossible. I am learning how to fight…in a war I have never battled. Monsters surface, endurance tested, will proved. I am fighting because my heart has found it’s meaning, it’s love.

Broken crayons still color life’s canvas. I am broken, I am guarded, but I am fighting. I am fighting my demons to get to him. I am fighting for my fairy tale. He in all his broken crayons paint my life’s canvas with such beauty. His beautiful brokenness is my sunrise. Even his darkest colors are so incredibly beautiful, so real, you can feel it. It’s a midnight sky in the winter. Cold and crisp, where it stings your nose, a cold you can feel move through you,  but makes you feel as if you’re alive. I will take his winter midnight’s over a sunny beach day. The stars are endless, wishes countless, and silence around us. It’s he and I in a world in which we can create. Our colors compliment, and for the first time in so long, I see more than the rainbow, I see a spectrum of life.

16 June 2017 – Boots in a Bar

Cigar in one hand, Jack in the other, steel toes and Miss Me….I was just a pair of boots in a bar. Closed off and cold, I sat at a table and observed the workings of relationships, toasts for celebrations and laughs between friends. I realized then, how much I close myself off from the world at times. It has become my dark paradise.

Fear and doubt have taken seats next to me. Fear tells me that everyone leaves, doubt says their words are lies. As I listen, looking at the scars upon my heart, I am reminded of the lessons taught in the harshest of ways. Though the wounds no longer bleed,  my mind has become the knight to protect the walls of my heart.

I don’t come here often, but oddly seem to find comfort in being alone. My fear of the being hurt makes me awkward and reserved. How in the world can anyone move past such a crippling thing? Right, Right, Left. The movement of your feet, on pavement, with the right guidance and song, you can learn to dance. With time and patience, the dance becomes second nature, a part of you. That’s when you reach for the hand of a partner, smile, and take that step with confidence in your own feet.