Many conversations on the topic of love with those who denounce it as if they’ve resisted its pull
Like my dreams, forgotten once the sun rises, my mind writes paragraphs of beautiful prose that vanish as I attempt to put them on paper.
For with its jealous nature my mind seeks sole possession of the depth of my thoughts.
And just as I lay each morning fruitlessly trying to recall dreams as their memories fade; I sit paper in hand, willing my mind to release the words that flowed in beautiful harmony just moments before.
The very same words that could free me from the torment of a million thoughts trying to lay claim to the forefront of my mind.
So I demand control, prepare for battle, fully aware the struggle is futile and I am powerless against it.
For with its flagrant power it distracts me with one thought and another screaming for attention from places unseen.
And soon I am lost, paralyzed, resentful, conceding defeat.
Oh bad day you have sneaked upon me once again you devilish fool. I saw you coming from miles in the distance and believed my happiness could withstand your forces but you broke through my wall of laughter and invaded my fortress of smiles armed with your cynicism, you have wounded me and caused me to bleed tears
I sit on the outside of your white picket fence watching you go about your life so normal in its appearance the husband the kids the having it all and I feel a slight pang of envy and wonder about my own picket fence would I survive within it would I be satisfied with the mundaness the sameness the routine of your day would I be able to smile as you do perfect teeth flashing but no life in your eyes that are covered by mountains of make-up creating a mask a keeper of secrets like perhaps your desire to be something other than what you became because your life the sum of choices made for you conceived of playing it safe of taking no risks but safety is just a mirage which traps you in a hold of delusion with invisible shackles that keep you from being who you once dreamed and now you long to be more but you must maintain this polite façade of contentment you feel others expect and each morning you paint on that mask the keeper of secrets in attempts to subdue the dreams trying to break free but our eyes meet and I see them as I watch you sit inside of your white picket fence watching me go about my life so free in its appearance wondering about the sparkle you see in my eyes where in yours I see only yearning…
I’m taking my morning walk as my coffee awaits with its now familiar flavor and ability to open my eyes to what the day will bring and the wind blows adding to the chill in the air causing the yellowing leaves to fall in my path as a reminder that the season is changing and soon the sun will not bring anything but light because its warmth will be in hibernation for a time that’s somewhat undetermined yet often predicted erroneously and I turn my head and look across the street to the park where I see a runner and I admire her ability and determination as I berate my lack of both until I see her bones protruding through her skin and I am thankful for the ass that attempts to protrude through my jeans because it means that though I could be healthier I am self-aware and accepting of my imperfections and I feel a sort of pity for her obsession and realize that elsewhere lie my own so I end my moment of judgement and continue walking and look up and ask God to allow her to see herself as she is without the words and images of others that have broken her down and as I talk to God I realize I’ve arrived at my destination so I sit with my words and my coffee and allow its steam to warm my hands and I pick up my book and open my note book and I read a page until my attention wanders because the words in my head aware of paper and pen in their proximity are fighting to spill out so I give them their freedom and they escape onto the notebook and as they flow out of me the coffee begins to warm me with its now familiar flavor and it wakes me with its ability to open my eyes to what the day will bring…
How do you measure a year in the life?” ~Seasons of Love from the musical Rent
365 days since my mind shifted, since the need for something different became more important than security.
365 days since I prepared to say goodbye to the life I knew, to the people I loved, to the routine of my day.
365 days since I faced the fear and push it aside to do what I felt must be done.
365 days since I flew away to a place so strange to me, to people I didn’t know.
365 days since they welcomed me with open arms; this place, the people former strangers, now a
piece peace of my heart.
But nothing lasts forever…
365 days changes people and things, and teaches you lessons you never imagined you’d learn.
365 days taught me that I am strong, and I am loved, and I am brave, and the person I’ve become, well she is so much more than I ever imagined I could be.
365 days gave me more love than ever before as
I she takes with her more than I thought she would, more than I ever imagined she could.