It’s scary. I’m scared. I know life is going to be like that sometimes. There are lots of uncontrollables. But it doesn’tt take away from the thought of opting out of living it. It’s easier like that. Those thoughts are easy and comforting and selfish and make you feel better. Having control of that one thought and action, eases the fact of all the other uncontrolled. Even if right along with the thought of giving up, is the thought that I couldn’t. But only because I’m a Mom.
I know what makes up love. I know the fundelmentals. I’ve heard the wedding vows and read about love in the Bible. I’ve felt loved and knew to be loved. So how can I mess it up so badly? Why do I love so poorly? Why do I implement such a weak and pathetic nature of it. And if it is dished out so off from the real thing, why do I even call it love?
It doesn’t matter that the real thing is different for each one of us. It doesn’t matter that some like to be shown love through gifts and others through physical touch. I’ve just got a really thin blood line of love in my veins.
My heart hasn’t felt more involved with the word then it does now, yet I still struggle. I still fall down with love in my hands and it smushes and bleeds through the sidewalk cracks. I have good strong intentions nowadays for my love. Yet I still hit walls that splash my love into attics.
Is love on my side? Does love choose sides? How do I be better? Will anyone be patient enough to watch me fail time and time again.
I really do want to love purely. I never thought it would be such a difficult thing to get a hold of. It’s prooven to be a self distasting but beautiful battle. I love myself better than ever-until the parts happen where my love for others prooves warped and fragile.
Oh where will I get the potion for this thing called Love.
How many times will it take?
How many chances will I get?
Why can’t I get a grip on living a good life.
I have failed so much and it hurts my heart to death. I keep messing up.
And I don’t even fucking know why. I barely know how.
I think I can move forward while holding on to stuff from the past?
That is one of the lousiest thought orders a human being can have.
Realizations come in giant waves that have me speechless. I can’t explain myself. I’m just a knotted rope full of threads and unravelling dishevellement. I don’t understand me much anymore and it’s getting me further into a darkness I will not be able to breathe in.
On the other hand, I just made red play-dough with my child and that was rather amusing and made my heart feel beats of light life.
Where do we go from here.
I didn’t think I wasn’t capable, just that I wasn’t the type to feel that way. I even thought about it and felt that brushing it off and getting on with my day, was how I would deal with it. So when leaving my son on his first day of daycare with a welling rise in my throat and gloss already forming on my sight, well, it kinda threw me off.
But it didn’t either.
It didn’t feel THAT weird. It just felt weird that I didn’t expect that reaction of mine.
It felt good and it felt weird that it felt good.
I had visions of him without me, interacting with unfamiliar people and being so…alone. Those images packed into my brain without warning throughout the day. I called two hours after I left him, to make sure he was doing fine. Of course he was.
I arrived 10 minutes prior to leaving time and circled the block about three times and felt like a funny mom, laughing at myself for how ridiculous and how proper all of that, all of me, was.
He survived his first day and so did I.
And the real special part was when I walked into the room and he saw me from across it and jumped off his horse and ran and ran and ran right to me with his little arms outstretched to hug my bones, my self, my life, my love and I immediatly felt cry come up my insides and curve to the ceiling and I knew I didn’t want to talk to anyone because I wouldn’t be able to form edible words and so I signed out quick and got him to the truck and talked to him all the way home about his day and loved and loved and loved. And when we got home I sat with him, close to him, with him touching my face and telling me he had missed me and holding my ears and sayin he had cried a little bit because he was ‘squared’ and ‘wanted Mommy there’.
I would never had understood any of those feelings from another parent if I had not experienced this day for myself. This day, those feelings, that love, that humanity.
Thank you heartbeat of mine, for sad and scared and wondering days like these. Where the trickling of all those sensations makes up a very, very life of a feeling. A heart swelling blooming living feeling, that you can’t forget once you know it.
It’s okay when you turn the washing machine and walk away without putting soap in it. It’s okay to brush your teeth without toothpaste on your brush. It’s okay to put salt in your coffee or BBQ sauce in your cup of juice.
It’s okay because forgetting these essentials, gives you a chance to realize that hey, you’ve got a brain and it works and some people, some people have to make choices in it, to remember to do those actions. Those everyday, thoughtless actions.
You have your brain of health, you can walk and stand and pour and sip and you can do and think and string along words that are logical and practical and you are a human being that knows some pretty cool everyday shit.