The moment washes over me;
why can’t we fit like this forever?
Your tiny body spooned
perfectly where I bend;
the top of your head
just below mine,
where I plant
kiss after kiss
as I wish only that
I didn’t have to leave
the moment behind.
There is strength in the struggle.
I wish to be like a butterfly;
some day I’ll have moiled
only to find
freedom in the fight
the vastness of the sky
now as wide open
as the wings
a heavy burden.
I can see why some people just decide to spend their life alone with no one to share it with as intimately as you do with someone you love. I can see why some people simply give up on finding someone and making it work. I teeter back and forth with this idea. And I’ve come to accept more than I ever have the possibility of being alone. I’ve come to love who I am when I’m alone, which is to say I’ve come to accept that there is a lot about me to love, regardless of my relationship status. And maybe… just maybe… that’s been the whole point of it all.
This morning shortly after arriving to work I became fixated on something my 8-year old made for me when he was in preschool. To think that that was just over 3 years ago is bizarre. On the one hand it feels like just yesterday. But on the other it’s as though it were so long ago. Who I was then, where I was, what I was doing was completely different. And in that time my son has grown in so many of his own brilliant ways most assuredly.
What the message reminds me of is a lesson I have found myself sharing with my son over and over and over again. Because yes, there are times when I’ll catch him feeling sorry for himself; he feels he’s been cheated out of something that someone else got and he didn’t. And what I’ll tell him is how important it is to focus on what he has instead of what he hasn’t got. It’s amazing to watch those little wheels turning inside his head as a shift in perspective begins to take place on his face and in the way he proceeds with his life. He moves on. He gets over it. He learns to appreciate what he already has instead of clinging to feelings of jealousy and insecurity. He remembers the love in his life. (And the ice cream I just treated him to perhaps!)
There is something for me to take away from this, too. How often have I pined away for a love that couldn’t be reciprocated? How often have I wallowed in sorrow, loneliness, and discontent? Or wondered why other people get to fall in love and live happily ever after and I don’t? All the while forgetting–even deliberately–that I am already surrounded by so much love in my life. And who am I to expect more than what is already given me?
There is no other presence quite like hers, all others fade into the background.
She’s a warm ray of light
on a cold winter’s night.
To be sure, she is my life line;
pulling me up when I’ve hit rock bottom, even when it is she who pushed me over the edge.
But who else could do such a thing
when it is only she
I let get that close to even reach
the deepest part of me?
It’s no wonder I bleed at the expense of her touch.
Upon death I find her there, lips pressed against mine; she breathes new life into me.
Trying not to live in the “coulda beens”;
trying just to exist in the now.
And to see it as worthwhile,
though lately that’s been really hard.
I have to stop comparing my life
to some version of me
I thought I would be.
She still exists but
only in my mind.
I invite her out.
She invites people in.
But then it’s like
chews them up and
spits them out again.