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Archive for February, 2018

Dear God,

Dear God,

What exactly is the point of sending me ‘the one’ if he isn’t going to be ‘the one’?

What exactly was I supposed to learn from this experience, besides a broken heart?

What was the point of sending me someone who met every need before I knew it was a need?

What was the purpose of letting me get my heart shattered into a million different pieces?

Why God????? Why would you allow me to sink into new levels of fucked? What am I not learning?

I am so tired. So tired of not being good enough.

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Right now I am moving for the third time in a year. I am reminded again at how simple the rooms look. Four blank walls. Empty and cold.

The boxes contain objects. Nothing spectacular, no amazing art, no vibrant colors.

I can be in the room, and still everything is an object or medium to be used.

When my soul is engaged, things come together. A magic happens. Things are arranged according what I feel and sense.

Right now that soul is absent. I am struggling to find my footing. I am lost. I have such a gaping hole in my heart, the physical pain has been unbearable not to mention the mental torture that I have put myself through.

So for now, I am just a bunch of parts….

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I fold.

Stubbornness is my worst fault. By far.

It keeps me from saying what I need to say. It tells me that no matter how hard I try to be ‘normal’ I will always have the ‘weird homeschool girl’ placard on my chest.

No matter how I fight this ‘weird homeschool girl’ she still manages to screw things up.

She loves people that she shouldn’t. She loves them completely. She gives the keys to the deepest recesses of her heart, as though it were a visitor’s pass.

She trusts that the good in people is just that, good.

She never stops trying. No matter how many times she is pushed away, she keeps going back for more. In hopes that she can get in. That this time she can erase everything that she has done to piss off her parents. This time, she will be good enough.

I truly hate this “weird homeschool girl” she is weak. She is a fool. She is me.

I am tired of fighting her. I am tired of not being good enough for someone to love completely. I am tired of her incessant desire to reach for the hearts that are broken and heal them. She gives of herself at the expense of her own heart. MY heart.

She desires the un-reachable heart. Because she knows deep down that it can be reached. She doesn’t care what the cost is. I do.

I want to be cherished. I want to be desired. I want to be truly loved. But this weak girl reaches for that lonely heart. Because she knows. She has felt the love and hurt from that heart. She also knows that that heart is chained to luggage. Lots of it. Luggage ignored by the heart.

I am tired if fighting this ‘weird homeschool girl’. I am tired of feeling my heart ripped from my chest. I fold.

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Apparently, I am a masochist.

I know what loss feels like. I know what a broken heart feels like. Very well.

Shockingly it does nothing to deter me from running headlong into a losing situation for my heart.

I love someone. Someone who is so afraid of getting hurt that they don’t even realize it is happening. You would think that I had learned. But I didnt.

I failed to remember what a new relationship was like.

I failed to speak my needs.

I failed to give him his.

I failed to realize that 17 year relationships are incredibly different than a 4 month old one.

I failed.

In all aspects of this relationship, I have failed. I found someone that I love more than I have ever loved before and I used the tools that I knew. The ones that ended my 17 year marriage.

The reality is that if it was truly a relationship worth fighting for, he would be right here; asking me how we got so wrong, so fast.

It takes two to have a relationship. It takes two to fight for what is left. It takes two people to say “I was wrong, please forgive me.” Actually, one person can say it, but the other has to grant that forgiveness.

I must like pain because here I am. Yet again.

I was so wrong. So very wrong. And there is no one left standing here, to forgive me. No one to blame. No one to hang onto.

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