Posted in Elephant Journal, family, love, Mental Health, Miscellaneous, NaBloPoMo

when ‘I love You’ comes

Here is another one from Elephant Journal that I just love. I wish I could write my feelings out like this. It is hard
going from having no feelings to feeling again. I’ve even tried to cover them up. I have learned over the past few months what my problem is, and now I’m determined to make those life changes. I will have to lose some things, but as long as I’ve got YOU babe to keep my head above the clouds, every little thing is gonna be alright.

“There is a sweet song rolling through my mind. It brings a bounce to my step, a smile to my lips, and that little mischievous, pulsing throb in the deepest parts of who I am.

Such music has become a part of me lately. It has defined my days and warmed my nights. Imagine that incredible beauty as you sit in stillness, as you sit in that holy place you’ve defined as yours, and the warm notes of a million lifetimes come pouring in through the little channels that tunnel deep into your soul.

That’s where I am, and that is where I find her.

In a world confused by me, she understands me. She brings my voice into tune, my heart into rhythm, my sight into focus. She has no need to question me, she is the answer. She is the rock that steadies the sands beneath my feet, and the wind that moves the clouds hiding the warmth I’d like to feel.

She doesn’t own my errors, she embraces them. She doesn’t try to dull my rough edges, they fit nicely with her own. She doesn’t see walls or barriers, she knows that where she lays with me there is nothing but open space, and that she is free.

She is genuine, not preaching a mantra of things she supposed to say. Her smile lights up my day because it flows so easily from her soul. Her voice comforts me, reminding me of the sweet lullabies I’ve heard a million times in my dreams.

Her mind entices me; it is not burdened by old ideas or conditioned rhetoric. She refreshes me, reminding me that I am me, and she is her, but we…well, we are fucking invincible.

In the vast stories of my life, in the many chapters, changes, transformations and lessons that have occurred, I am grateful. Grateful for the moments when I was hurt. Grateful for the moments when I was so cold, survival was never assured. I’m grateful for the pretenders who challenged my psyche, who dared question my integrity as I waited, patiently, for her to answer my call.

I’m grateful for the discipline I kept sacred, for the refusal to bend to the whims of others, and for the strength I was gifted in walking the path, staying the course and never, ever, forgetting.

Why am I so grateful?

Well, let’s just say that the words “I love you” should never be work.

They should flow mindlessly and mindfully at the same time, without effort and without hesitation. They should not be a promise of servitude, or of imprisonment, they should be a guarantee of the liberation we are all entitled to.

Those words should simply spill from your mouth when you least expect it, and they be recognized for the powerful testament of simplicity they truly are. When it takes more effort to hold them back than just say them, you should stop working so hard and let them fall out of you. They are truth, an embodiment of nothing but the truth, and we owe each other that precious gift.

We don’t owe each other tomorrow, we owe each other the truth of our now. We owe each other our moodiness, our fears, our darkness, our hugs, our kisses, our light, our joy as well as the monsters we may have created under our bed.

We don’t owe each other perfection, we owe each other the best of who we are regardless of what that means. We don’t owe each other sacrifice, we owe each other the promise that sacrifice is not necessary. We don’t owe each other security, we owe each other the promise of awareness, even when we find ourselves lost in the throes of unconsciousness.
We become the light bearer for each other not out of duty or effort, but out of the effortless fact that our light is all that need be. She shines effortlessly, like the full moon in the darkest forest, and that is enough for this traveler.

We don’t tell each other those little white lies often told to spare an unwanted emotion. We tell each other the truth, and  we trust each other enough to handle it. Our truth is fearless, as is our ability to hear it.

She may seem in flux to some, but to me she is a rock. She may seem conflicted to others, but to me she makes perfect sense. She may be a mistake to a few, but to me she is utter perfectionist.

She is the answer to my joyful aloneness, the embodiment of the Universe responding to my soul, a reminder of something forgotten but remembered, of a life lived many, many times before.

When all of that comes into being, when the stars align and the music plays, the words “I love you” simply spill from your lips before you’ve even realized you’ve said them.

Three words, a trinity of truth, of life, of a certain reality realized in a moment like the beginning of the Universe, expanding from the smallest space within to fill the vastness of eternity with potential, with creation, with the power of mind allied with the strength of heart.

It’s in those words we exist, and in those words we are filled with passion, with desire, and with hope.

It’s there we are standing, her and I. I can feel her fingers intertwined with mine, her very presence filling all of the once-empty spaces around me, in me, and through me. It’s the moment when “I love you” comes that it all seems so…so…perfect, so necessary.

You smile, you laugh, and if you are lucky enough to be a writer the words just flow out of you like breath. It’s there you know that it was all worth it, so all very worth it, and that you wouldn’t change a thing. It’s there that the past and future become the present moment, and it’s there you choose to live fully and eternally.

It’s there I am. It’s there she is. I think we’ve made a home here.”

Mary’s part 🙂
This is how I want my man to feel about me and ONLY me. Here’s what I’ve got to say……

Here I am – body and soul, all of my love and all of my baggage – all of me. Here I am with my wide opened arms ready to accept you, baggage and all into my heart.

I see you – father, son, brother, lover, the light and the darkness, the warrior and the scared little boy – all of you. I want you, crave the salty taste of your skin, I cry for you, for the harm that has been done to you, all of you, you and only you, just as you are. I have a place in my heart that’s been waiting for you. Please handle my heart with care as I will with yours.

Girl71282

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Author:

I love many things; my boys, recovery, painting, drawing, crocheting, knitting, and the list goes on. Recovery from PTSD and addiction. Acrylic and watercolor painting. Soft yarn, in neutral colors. This is my place to ramble and not have to hear the judgements of others. Thank you.

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