trail off

To my higher self: this is not news, but this is reality.

And so the time has come for me, as it presumably comes for all eventually, to let go of  fragments of the past. I realized today as the truth came with a blow to my ego that I am only hurting myself when I insist upon clutching the sharp fragments in my closed palm. Instead of releasing them into the wind I have made it my personal duty to attempt a feat that goes against the path of awakening. And so the stronger I have resisted moving on and starting completely new, the greater I have suffered. I am my own worst enemy at times, just as we all can be cruel to ourselves, I have allowed myself to endure the pain and misery for far too long. And so today came and went and along with it came a fragment of truth and as the day slowly winds down I feel the strain of the past leaving through my feet. The weight has been unbearably heavy at times, and now I must sit patiently as it all leaves through my skin and enters the atmosphere.

Energy.

This blog has served its purpose. It has accumulated much of my ramblings, my emotions, my miseries, my preoccupations, and my dark sense of the world. Scrolling back to the earlier posts it becomes apparent that I had a figure in my life whom I allowed to affect me in much greater ways than should have ever been true. The person I was a few years ago, even a few months ago, is a foreign past self. I have evolved, and with my current sense of understanding of the world, I have realized this blog no longer provides me with the outlet I desire.

Instead of trying to save this blog and blend the old with the new I have decided to leave this as is (as far as I’m concerned I am only writing for myself anyways) and begin fresh with a new blog. The world has something for me, and I want to transmit that knowledge and understanding through to those who will benefit. This is no longer the place.

There is a time and a place for almost everything.

Today, right now, calls for a new beginning.

Look, I found something.

Sometimes it’s like just the right amount of tapping can flush out your entire emotional system. It’s like a cleansing. You take a breath no different from your last and suddenly realize you now feel hopeful. The mesmerizing blue sky is suddenly too vibrant, you have to shade your eyes. You become aware of the birds chirping, the cattail grass swaying in the wind, and of how completely alone you are.

With just one breath your entire perspective can change. How I can go from feeling completely hopeless and irritable to suddenly feeling calm and grateful is beyond me. Maybe my neurotransmitters work in aberrant ways or maybe I inherited some gene that has made me more susceptible to habits and thought patterns linked with depression. Whatever it is that lives inside I have deemed it a blessing more so than a curse.

Because of the overwhelming sadness and the debilitating weight of worry I have been challenged to find a lifestyle that allows peace of mind. And because of the intensity in the emotions that have been tossed and archived over the years I am now realizing that time and space between me and where I have grown up are necessary for the next level of my personality to unfold.

The sad thing is that I don’t understand these thoughts when I am sober sometimes. When things are moving too slow. Or when things seem to be moving too quickly. But right now in this very moment I completely and fully comprehend what I need to do. I am eager and I often wonder what I’m waiting for. I often wonder what good will come of staying here any longer.

All I can really do right now is manifest my manic emotive thoughts into the future and its blossoming.

It’s the worst kind of sadness. It’s the kind you can’t share. You try to explain your feelings, the uncertainty, the tug and the pull, and all of the grey area in between those things that can be defined…and you feel more disconnected. You feel as though you are literally alone in your feelings. Your sadness. You feel as though this is reason enough to further victimize yourself and to crawl even further down that rabbit hole. Sinking…you are comfortable in the depression. It is familiar. It is safe. You don’t have to wander out, you don’t have to make yourself vulnerable, you don’t have to set yourself up for possible rejection. Everything is calm in the depression, nothing is overwhelming you.

Except you can’t feel. And the idea of not being able to feel brings tears to your eyes. But they never gather enough weight to fall, there is not enough emotion to bring about a full blown emotional breakdown. It is the monotony that you despise. It is the complete and utter calm that leads restless fingernails to search out open wounds. Digging and digging you can now feel again. The sensation is back. The feeling is back. It all comes rushing back and rushing out, and it is red. It is blood. You are your own worst enemy. You are yourself and you are the only one who can ever truly love you enough to make you change.

How do we find self love? How do we cultivate a feeling that is so unfamiliar and so fleeting and so natural, all at the same time? I want to love myself and my closest friends and my family and eventually all of the world. I want to live love, I want to be the force of love that carries warmth into the hearts of strangers and lovers alike.

But today is a day of tears. Of melancholy. Of pensive hours spent pacing across cement floors. My mind is buzzing, the sadness is getting so old. There is a point we reach in time where everything that is familiar is no longer enough. Our person has changed, a new layer of our being has been revealed and the process has also revealed that the old likings and behaviors are no longer satisfying to the newly revealed self.

I have reached that point. Even though I miss some of the things from my past so much every day that I carry that sadness with me and even though I have never had such a supportive and genuine group of friends, I no longer find myself content. I am restless. I am searching. I don’t understand those who want to settle with the little they have. Maybe they will lead more fulfilling lives, maybe they will be happier….but what have they done? What have they pushed themselves to discover and explore?

I don’t want to settle. I don’t want to be content with mediocrity. I don’t want to continue this life I have here……I can’t sustain this life anymore. It was not intended to nurture my young adult life. There was a shift in consciousness that came about days before my college graduation. Ever since then I have been seeking something greater than myself. I have been seeking happiness within myself. I have been waiting to make the next move so I can begin my journey.

Waiting.

I am waiting. I am holding my breath. This is getting to be unbearable. I don’t know how some people live with uncertainty so well day in and day out. I can’t stand this much longer. Am I staying? Am I going?

I don’t want to stay.

I used to have a lover to ground me. Now I am free. A free spirit in a whirlwind pattern. Where I will end up….who knows. Wherever I end up, wherever I land….well, there I am. I suppose I must grow on.

Ughhhhh, please.

It’s weird how the person I used to love the most, or at least I thought I loved the most, is now the person who I want to escape from the most. 

Colorado, Colorado, Colorado!

I am holding my breath. I am near the point of asphyxiation. Am I killing myself? I used to try in very indirect ways, but nowadays I am only trying to pull myself together. To better myself. I am preparing mind, body, and spirit for an encounter that will change my entire life.

Change my entire life……..

What a profound thought. I can’t even fathom what changes will occur, what shifts will take place, what limbs will be cut to keep moving forward, what memories from the past will be tossed to lessen the load I carry.

There are a handful of people here that I deeply love. Deeply care for. There are a couple of people who stir such intense emotions inside of me that I have never actually voiced my feelings. I don’t know how to convey these unfamiliar and incredibly strong feelings whose strength and durability surpass those of any romantic relationship I’ve ever had. And this is how I feel about my dearest friends? And these are the same friends whose relationships with me will inevitably suffer and be tried due to the distance between here and there? What a risk.

But I have always been a risk taker. 

But this is a risk whose consequences I have not yet fully thought out. I’m not sure I ever will. It’s so easy to block those thoughts from my mind and instead focus on what I will be gaining. What I will be a part of. What I will soon immerse myself in and give up my ego for in exchange for communion with something greater than myself.

I’m tired of this cultural elitist bullshit. I’m so tired of what parts of this town have become. I’m so tired of meeting people who are all remarkably similar. And not in a good way. The common threads between them turn them into self-righteous snobs whose tastes in film, music, and art are all based upon bullshit social constructs. The ignorance that is so prevalent in the minds of such people is literally wearing me down.

I’ve lived in a college town for over two years. I’ve met the youthful minds and bodies that are enslaved to their biological drives. They have given their souls away, piece by piece, fuck by fuck. It’s all just a game. And I’m so tired of it. I don’t want anything to do with it. I’m tired of young boys who can’t take control of their lives, I’m tired of old boys who haven’t found any meaning in their lives, I’m tired of girls who view themselves as worthless or unworthy of love- I want to love each and every one of them, and I am tired of all the people who are looking for love in all of the wrong places. 

I am tired of watching the suffering.

I have been there. So many people are there right now. They have never risen to the point of acceptance and understanding of what they need to do to begin healing. 

At some point, it becomes overwhelming. It’s too much for me to witness with the current pair of eyes I have. I want to help reduce suffering. I want to help push wounded souls down the path to healing. I am currently under-equipped for such a task though. I need time, I need space, I need an education.

I suppose that is my greatest goal in life: to heal those who are wounded.

Art is a very basic and primitive medium through which any human being can express themselves. I want to encourage self-expression, self-acceptance, and awareness. This journey whose beginning is quickly creeping up on me seems to be my best chance at attaining all that I desire, and probably many more things along the way. 

The thought of leaving and arriving are two completely separate events, yet the emotions that one event brings about in me are strikingly similar to the emotions the other would bring out in me.

I’m not sure of a lot of things.

I’ve said it before, but I will say it again.

Anything could happen.

I lost a blood relative yesterday. Today I gained an opportunity to completely start fresh. The balance of this world has never been more apparent to me. The tears in my eyes are a mixture of gratitude and sorrow.

Moving forward means leaving the past behind. It can’t come with me. Nobody I love here can accompany me there. I smile and then feel my eyes watering with an overwhelming sense of joy, then the next minute my entire body is quivering as I try to hold back the tears and the terror. Everything will be different, so many things will change. What good is trying to hold onto the past?

I am completely numb. The energy in my body has been drained without being replenished. My stores of livelihood have been sucked dry. Perhaps a night full of deep sleep and whimsical dreams will give me foresight into what life could be like in the mountains. Perhaps I won’t wake up next to a bloated body of doubt. Perhaps my thoughts and feelings will subside in the night. Perhaps I will stop thinking this situation to death and will instead just let it play out.

You know, like have faith that everything will work out.

You know?

mind after nature

It was as if I had been transported to a different setting. After focusing on my breath for who knows how many minutes, I slowly opened my eyes. I almost didn’t recognize where I was. Is this the same pond? Is this my pond? The pond I walk/run/stumble to when hysterical/manic/pensive/joyful? It looked so eery, so different, so illuminated. My heart fluttered. My skin filled with goosebumps.

I brought the sage wand and a lighter and apologized to Nature as I lit the dried leaves in spite of there being a supposed burn ban in effect. I looked around at the pond that was almost filling up on even level with the bench and outlook area I let loose in. I looked at my shoes which were covered in gushy mud. None of that would be possible without a downpour of rain. Screw the burn ban. I had some saging to do.

I’m not sure how long I sat there for. I’m not sure of a lot of things anymore. That is partially what I meditated on: learning to accept ambiguity, uncertainty, and the unknown. Whenever I have put my faith in the future and the Universe, She has never let me down. I just plow through the present with a heightened awareness that leaves me calm and collected. I must relocate that mindset. I must set out again.

The outing was much needed, despite the dreary state of things. Nature has been shedding far too many tears recently. I don’t remember so much rain in this state. I don’t remember trails being so muddy for so long. I know we need rain, but I also need my time outdoors. It is a necessity that once rediscovered, will never be ignored again.

The sun has come out from its hiding place behind the clouds. I guess even it has a reason to be downcast sometimes. On the way home the sun was warming my neck, my face, my hands. I wanted to spend all afternoon sitting outside. Thinking. Contemplating. Meditating. Letting go of the past. Letting it slip away without a struggle. No struggle. Just gone.

I had a vision of Colorado. I had a vision of love found in the mountains. The direction I’m headed in is awfully exciting, although the suspense is currently about to kill me. The anxiety is building up every moment I am not mindfully breathing. The worried thoughts that ask “What if-? What if-?” are as loud as ever. But I am managing. I am learning to breathe. To trust. To have faith in a greater force.

I am feeling the presence of many other women who have sorrows far deeper than I can presently understand. I let them sing to me, talk to me, write to me….and I soak it in. I take their words and their emotions and their sorrows and their lessons and I put them in a safe spot in my mind, a spot untouched by fear or doubt. I can no longer erase those memories, they are permanent lessons in my mind, resources for me to grasp as I feel myself slipping down the rabbit hole again. Or whatever it is that tries to bring me low, low, low.

I’m not sure of a lot of things right now, but I’m beginning to be ok with that. I no longer try to understand and predict events and outcomes. I’m starting to end the life I’ve had here in await of the life I will lead in a much more suiting community. I am beginning to say goodbye to this place so I can welcome, with open arms, the next place that will hold many lessons for me.

I am beginning to start again.

mind before nature

What is it that I am stuck on? I am going round and round, chasing my own tail. I am nothing more than a fool who is plagued by dark feelings. Heavy feelings. Feelings that dampen my personality and my spirit. I’ve spent so much time trying to fight it that now I see now point. I want to give in. I want to be washed away by sadness, another victim taken under the burdensome weight.

What is it that bothers me so? I am no longer the center of his universe, or anyone’s universe for that matter. Nobody loves me deeply in a romantic way. Nobody holds me in their mind as their last thought before drifting into a peaceful sleep. Nobody is making an effort to keep in contact with me through different mediums because hours without talking leads to feelings of longing for my voice, my wit, my compassion.

What has he done to deserve to find love fresh out of our relationship? I knew he would end up with the girl he’s currently with. It all seemed so simple, so straightforward, so obviously perfect. Two lonely souls come together with no expectations and realize they have all the same interests. It is basically one person manifested in two separate genders. Loneliness cured. Here comes complete happiness, here comes contentment with life and with partner, and there goes any feeling for me, for all that I’ve done for him. He has no recollection of that. He has blocked it all out. That’s his way of coping. He blocks out the positive so it is easier to forget about me. He is so ignorant and delusional that I get angry when I think about him. He never thinks about me anymore. No, no. He has a new girl to preoccupy himself with. One of lesser value, but one that brings him greater joy. Since when did less become more? I always knew he could never handle me. I am too much for most people. I have too much drive, too much motivation, too much need to constantly be learning and growing and loving and moving and feeling the world through my innate senses. He could never keep up with me. That was the breaking point.

What is it that makes me still dwell on that past relationship when he has moved on so long ago? When it was I who knew we were a terrible pair, when it was I who broke up with him thinking I was in love with someone else, when it was I who was so happy and so free those first few months with my new found space and peace of mind? It is my ego. That goddamn intangible concept that exists in our pride’s mind. It brings me thoughts like “well if I can’t even appeal to a boy of his caliber, how can I possibly appeal to a man whose personality and interests and intelligence is actually in line with my own?”

I have never been in love. Not with anyone I have dated at least. Perhaps with the one whose mere presence was all I needed to feel flooded with emotions. I could never decipher those emotions. That was the one who I left my ex for. That was the one who I was foolish enough to betray by going back to my ex, a boy whose fear of being alone was so strong that I allowed it to infect me. I went back to my comfort relationship instead of venturing into the unknown relationship that would most likely have led me to much healthier feelings and memories.

Am I the weak one? I have always viewed him as too soft, as having no spine, no balls, no guts, no voice, no nothing. I was the leader, the dealer, the control freak. Ah, yes. Control. It all comes down to fear and control. I wanted to control him. I wanted to be his puppeteer. It makes me sad to think that’s who I was and that I set conditions for his love and worth. And he took it. He accepted the abuse because he needs it. We both had issues to work on, but I have realized that mine are much deeper. Mine go back much farther and affect me in a greater number of ways.

He never truly loved me. I never truly loved him. It was a relationship that was created and maintained through fear. Fear of being alone, fear of oneself, fear of the unknown. There was never any love between us. Not a single ounce.

I wonder if his new relationship is one of love or one of fear? If it is a relationship of love, how is it that he has reached that point before I have? I have worked harder and cried more tears and spent more time with myself and have all together gotten to know myself much better than I believe he has. But maybe I’m wrong.

The truth is I don’t mourn the loss of him. I don’t want to be with someone like him. Although he has some qualities I want in my life partner, there was something about him that stunted my growth. In the months following the breakup I grew more rapidly than I probably ever have, and I am still growing at that pace. I mourn the loss of an idea. A culturally-infused notion that any person who is not with a partner must have something wrong with them, or must be alone, or must be intolerable as a human. I mourn the loss of control over someone so weak. I am working on letting go of my need for control, not just in relationships but also in everyday life. I want the people I love most now to feel free around me. I mourn the loss of having a warm figure to fall asleep next to at night and wake up next to in the morning. I mourn the loss of having someone care for my dog as if he were their own. I mourn the loss of having someone to share moments of intense pleasure and intense pain with.

I am not alone, but sometimes I feel terribly lonely.

This feeling is not unique to my single status. Oftentimes, perhaps more so back then, I felt incredibly isolated and alone in my own relationship, next to my own supposed lover. I mourn the loss of feeling secure and safe and comfortable. Although I experience those emotions on a much more stable foundation these days, it is in a completely different context. It doesn’t mean it’s better or worse, it’s just different.

In reality, there is nothing to mourn. Perhaps at one point there was, but now there is nothing left but my ego and its shadow. The shadow is the darkest part, the part that hooks my spirit as it rises and quickly tries to pull it back down into the darkness. For a long while I have been successful in my battles, but a combination of weather and hormones has left me unusually vulnerable to the torment inside.

The truth is I have everything I used to have, and more. Much, much more. I have friends who are family. I have family that are constantly supporting me. I have Nature under my feet and in my visual field and Universe watching over me as I explore and settle into something greater than myself. I have love for myself. For the first time in my life I feel love for the body that I have, the mind that I hold, and the personality that I have cultivated. I don’t spend hours in the bathroom anymore. I don’t tear myself apart like I used to. I want to feel beautiful for myself. I want to be beautiful for myself. If another person happens to share the same opinion, that is wonderful. But I don’t need others to tell me I am beautiful or I am ugly or I am so smart or I am so dumb. For the first time I feel as though I am immune to the madness. Even as I stand in the midst of it all I am untouched, unfazed, unaffected. Things are so much more beautiful now. Perhaps that is why I desire a constant someone to share these things with. My life, for the first time since I can remember, is actually coming together. If only I would stop sabotaging it, I might end up happier than I ever thought possible.

The truth is I have everything I used to have, but now the feelings and emotions and lovemaking and laughter and madness is spread out over an array of people, over an array of experiences and lovers and friends and strangers and animals and serene places.

Energy cannot be created nor destroyed. It can change form, thus the dispersal of my own personal needs across a greater number of sources, and the energy can change location, thus leading me to explore new places and invest love in new encounters, but the total amount of energy stays constant. My energy has always been the same, but rather than being targeted at one measly individual, it now reaches a wider mass of people. I have no reason to be sad. I have no reason to mourn. The love that I used to receive from that single individual, if it could be called love at all, is still out there. It is not targeted towards me anymore, and that’s ok. I didn’t appreciate while I had it anyways. I never stopped looking for something better, someone more suited for me and my ways. But I have to remember that there is an ample amount of love for me. It is coming at me from new directions and taking on new forms. Perhaps I haven’t adjusted yet, perhaps my mind is still slowing down from four and a half years of working for letter grades and trying to meet expectations someone else created for me. Perhaps once I find my true life rhythm I will realize I have been a fool for thinking back to the past and believing I made a mistake, that I lost something I cannot recover, that I cannot ever find someone who will want to be with me again, and that I am unworthy of affection.

The truth is, I am happy. Happy is not what I thought it was. That’s what I have realized. Happy is not how it is portrayed in movies or poems or how it is talked about by those who claim to have found true happiness. At least not for one on a spiritual path such as myself. The happiness I have found is something more calm, more detached from the sorrows of life. When I can attain such a perspective I feel as though nothing bad can reach through to me. I feel as though I am mirroring everyone’s smile, laughing with strangers, loving those who test my patience, and wishing good fortune upon those whose faces or names I will not remember the second we part ways.

Must keep going….must not let that ego tear me down. Must keep my chin high and bring my spirits up with it. Must only look forward.

Someone who will change my life is waiting for me.

This is the Universe’s way of testing my faith.

Inhale….Exhale…………Inhale……………….Exhale……………………..

Cart before the horse?

I feel as though I am preparing to leave.

With every new day I begin to look at things differently. I smile more often now. I laugh more often. I also cry for freedom and for joy more often.

I don’t get angry at the woman in the grocery store who cut me off only to stop directly in front of me. I might never see her again. Hate is a terrible emotion to leave on.

The guy with the old Mustang who lives upstairs and spends the majority of his time laying flat on his back working on his (stupid) car…I’ve started smiling at him. We’re both outside a lot, I’m sure we have a lot more in common than I think.

The dude upstairs whose TV murmurs down the spine of my bedroom walls and whose cell phone vibrations stir me from my sleep in the wee hours of the morning…I can’t get angry anymore. He has just as much of a right to live here as I do. I don’t want him to hate me. Maybe we would have been friends if only I weren’t going.

All of the people I interact with and observe typically rub me the wrong way. I used to go to Tantra and frown at those who were drinking their weaknesses away. Then I looked down at my own hand and was surprised to see my mini pitcher was already half drained. Hmmm. Maybe being a hypocrite won’t make me any friends.

I pass the old town buildings and breathe in the fresh air and exhale my compassion. May these buildings and these small businesses stay open for many more years to come. May the Coffee Pot be a place where people who, like me, go when they have nowhere else to go, and probably nobody to talk to. May it be the place where friendships are nurtured and carried out into the sunlight. May it be the place where college students and townspeople seek out when they desire a comforting environment.

May Showdown be a place where many more young females celebrate the first few years of legal drinking, and may it be the place where spirits are filled with happiness and drained of shame. May it be the community bar that I have grown so comfortable with. May it retain that familiar feeling until its end.

May the trails where I have wandered, gotten lost, and screamed into when spoken words just would not do, may they let many more young souls find solace in their woods. May many more women meditate on the bench overlooking the pond, and may they experience such feelings of serenity as I have experienced there. May it provide many more dog owners with a perfect setting to separate dog from leash from hand so that dog and owner can move in their own rhythm, allowing each other to explore only the places they choose.

There are so many things I feel as though I am saying goodbye to each time I encounter them. It’s as though I am preparing to take flight. Preparing to uproot and go.

Preparing, preparing, preparing.

It’s terrifying. But I’m smiling.

Hopeful.

I would say that’s the best word to describe my present state.

Despite the fact that I would leave so many wonderful things behind, so many perfect moments, so many personal places….I know something greater is waiting for me.

I know he will be there.

We are both preparing our lives right now, tying up loose ends that are worth saving while also gently trimming those we deem unnecessary. We must only come together when we are both fully prepared to meet. It’s all about timing. I am just biding my time in this small town.

I have never had so much to leave behind, I have never had so much to look forward to. I’ve always been a lucky girl, but it’s only a recent occurrence that I actually cry and openly thank the Universe for what it has given me, and more importantly, what it has in store for me.

What is it this time, sweetie?

I let the darkness stay in my room a while, avoiding the blinds. I woke up with a heavy heart. I’m sure the Universe is testing me, seeing if I am able to put what I have learned into practice. I almost broke down crying last night. Almost.

“Where is he?” I asked his roommate, and one of my dear old friends.

“Hanging out with his ex from high school….I always hear him giggling in his room when he’s on the phone with her.”

Such simple words. High school flame. Back in the present. But these words and the next words cut me.

“Fuck him,” I said, trying to keep my emotions from bursting forth.

“You did….” It was barely audible over the music in the bar. “You and a lot of other girls.”

I felt something sharp inside my chest twist ever so slightly, enough for me to realize those emotions I once felt for this guy so many months ago was actually love. I was in love with him. I wanted to be with him, and a small part of me hadn’t given up hope that someday we would be reunited under different terms and pick up where we left off, although things would be about us, and not about people from my past.

So I walked out, successfully holding my tears until I rounded the corner. I sat in the shadow of an overgrown bush while music spilled out of the doors across the street from me. Something in my chest was heavy. Heavy, heavy. It was back. It was dark, as usual. But this time I wasn’t ready for it.

Did I really love him?

We had the strongest connection I had ever experienced with someone. And in a matter of seconds, my image of him was completely shattered by his intoxicated roommate. Who speaks truth even when it’s not welcome. I could tell he immediately regretted his snide remark, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Wounded me limped over to Zealick’s where I stood with the only man in this town that has never let me down. I found him in the crowd of hipsters who I once looked down upon. Now I look at them knowing they are just part of this dream we call reality. I stood there with this man, knowing I was in good company, feeling safe for the first time that night. We literally stood there, not talking much, until I voiced my need for food. So we set off on foot to get a sandwich.

My heart swells thinking about the love that I feel for this man. I had a dream (perhaps nightmare is more suiting) where I saw myself torn down, crying hysterically while finding a tiny bit of warmth in Sophie’s arms. We were the two females in this town who loved him unconditionally before he published the book, before people started treating him as someone different, before he became famous. We are the two females he trusts in this town. Me and Sophie were in the front row at a ceremony that could only be referred to as a funeral.

Sometimes I’m so terrified of what visions will come to me in my sleep that I prolong the number of hours I spend awake.

I woke up with goose bumps, melancholy, and darkness. The pensive moods are much less frequent these days, but when they do appear it feels so much heavier than anything I can remember.

Erika’s voice brings tears to my eyes. Her emotions are so raw, so real, so humbling. The music in the early morning makes me pause in my sadness and reflect upon the fact that I am not alone in my suffering. She, like me, is a strong and beautiful woman who, also like me, experiences emotions and feelings on a much more intense level than the average human. We are the sensitive women who change form with the shift in wind patterns. We carry lighter loads when the sun is shining high, and we sink far beneath our comforters when rain keeps us indoors. We are connected to things that are far greater than us. We were born with knowledge from previous lives.

We are old souls.

I think of Erika and I feel a sweltering love. I think of the only man in this town that I trust with all of my madness and insecurities, and I feel my throat tighten while my eyes fight back the tears of gratitude.

Love.

Love, love, love.

I love so many people these days. I can think of at least a handful of people who I genuinely love. Who I genuinely care for and wish happiness upon. I have found something in San Marcos that I never could find in Austin. Something so beautiful it took me almost two years to realize the true value of what I was in the midst of.

And now that I’ve found this feeling, these people, this enormous capacity to love….

I want to leave.

I want to go to a new community, start fresh, start loving from the moment I arrive. I want to be surrounded by mountains, I want to awake in the mornings and lace up my hiking boots and head outside with my fur ball baby and get lost in Nature.

Get lost.

I want to leave the comfort of this place so I can get lost in unfamiliar lands.

Who can really say if another is truly crazy, or if they are just onto something that unveils an entirely new Universe, an entirely new way of thinking and of being, an entirely new way to separate oneself from the suffering and impermanence that is this world.

Who can ever really say anything with certainty?

The Universe is in flux, and we are all a part of Her, therefore we are always in flux too. The lessons the Universe pushes in our direction help us to progress and move in a direction of attaining greater awareness. We are always learning. We are always waxing and waning. Drifting out and coming back to.

We are always shifting lenses, viewing the same situation from a handful of perspectives. We are growing and shrinking, inhaling and exhaling, suffering and rejoicing. The Universe gives us both extremes of any spectrum, and She expects we will learn to cope with what we are given. She is merciful, but owes us nothing.

She is the reason for death.

She is the reason for life.

Life, life, light.

Ahhhh, light.

There is still hope.

stranger to myself

the motion and the movement- it is all in my chest. my mind is swirling, filled with thoughts and emotions. my eyes are filled with tears. i can’t do this anymore. the depression has sunk in, it’s not much of a surprise. the darkness is back, it is all too familiar. my mind is fucked. fuck fuck fucked. everything about this moment is completely wrong. everything about this reaction is completely out of character.

sway.

i can’t feel anything. i am numb down to the bone. i’ve been holding my breath for so long that only divine intervention could explain how i am still alive.

wait.

the game is on. it has been on for so long. i am restless and tearing myself apart as i sit in this dark room with tears streaming down my face as i wonder where i will be six months from now. my heart is heavy. my eyelids are heavier.

sleep deprivation. hormones. uncertainty.

they are all coming together and converging at the point of my insanity.

welcome.

i open my arms to change. please come in. i am dying without constant growth, constant change. i can’t settle. not now, but ever? will i ever reach a point in my existence where i am completely satisfied with who i am, who i am with, where i am, and what i have contributed to my community?

happiness.

it has to come eventually. the universe has never let me down, it has only led me astray. but that is usually my own fault for not trusting my gut feeling. that damned instinctual feeling that i so often suppress or ignore in favor of skewed logic or biased reasoning. it has brought me many months of sadness, of depression, of doubting my ability to move through my pain and stop viewing myself as a victim of life. the universe is my caretaker, my healer, my sanctuary, and my soul. i draw energy from its infinite reserves. 

i wonder if i am a narcissist too.

i miss the feeling of meaning the whole world to a single person, i miss cuddling next to a warm body at night, i miss the intellectual connection, the passion and intimacies, the chance to share all of the wonderful things i am discovering every day. i miss that figure. it is a spot whose vacancy will be magnified tomorrow.

sadness.

we have made a full circle. i am alone. not alone, but sometimes lonely. nobody loves me as a lover right now. nobody. most times, i don’t care. most times, i enjoy the added freedom. in fact, i would even go so far as to say that i need this incredibly large amount of space i have secured for myself. but tomorrow is a fucking joke whose telling will be at the expense of my composure.

past.

will it ever go away? a wise woman told me that when i meet the man who will be the one i raise many children with, it will be as if the past never happened. not that it will be erased, but rather that it will be recalled with such a light heart that no single memory can create any painful feeling.

i want the past and the pain to go away. i want to sit with it all night in the darkness, familiarize myself with it, and then breathe out one last exhalation before the sun rises and feel my body jolt as the darkness is sucked outward. and despite how familiar i once was with the past and the pain, after that morning it will become a complete stranger. a foreigner in a land whose soil is no longer fertile for such growth. my body and my mind cannot support the darkness, the negativity, the doubt, the criticism, and the anxiety. it will be forced to move on. the past will become alien to the present.

kiss kiss.

goodbye.

My session with the Healer today nearly left me in tears. I took deep breaths and blinked hard to prevent the tears from falling. Why I was reluctant to cry I don’t know. I would have only been crying for freedom. She knows it’s coming. She knows I won’t be around much longer.

“Now I’m not saying I can be for sure, but usually when something is so strong in someone’s aura I tend to be right…”

It only confirms the similar feelings I hold in my heart. I know things will turn out the way I’ve been envisioning. It’s terrifying, yet I know it’s what has to happen next.

Distance.

Here it comes….

Kurt, were you a bad father?

It’s just another unhealthy relationship. The man makes me sick. From woman to woman, he cannot be alone. He needs someone to make him feel needed. He needs someone to distract him from the past and the reality that a strong and independent woman doesn’t want to be with him.

Gag, gag, vomit.

If any two individuals are desperate enough, a false relationship can be created and maintained through delusion and a severe twisting of reality.

Twist.

How long can a man fool himself?

Break.

I’m sure he cares for her, but there are the obvious shortcomings, the obvious mismatchings, the obvious fate for yet another sad ending. I can’t stand around and watch this anymore. It’s a tragedy waiting to happen. My life was meant for more cheerful times and more honest confidences.

So he shares a bed with her every night, so what. He is alone. I can hear it in his voice, see it in his greying hair, and the wrinkles on his face. He is getting older. She is aging him faster than any wavelength could. He says I love you to a woman who can’t possibly feel anything but jealousy and insecurity. And what does he feel? I don’t know. He might as well be a complete stranger.

I am trying to deal with my anger, my resentment. Will I even remember his face when it comes time to have him walk me down the aisle? Will I even ask him to be in my wedding? I know I shouldn’t think about these things. But they cross my mind every time I am holding my phone as he calls me, and every time I hold my breath until he reaches the voicemail and hangs up.

The men who have been prominent in my life thus far have only been children at heart. It makes me physically sick. And yet I pity them. And yet they have caused me a great deal of heartbreak and reevaluation of my worthiness of love. It has taken me much time to realize, but I am better off without such figures in my life. They only disappoint and delude. They are not strong enough to withstand my presence.

And so it goes.