I feel like you're an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea...

everyday gets easier. and then some nights.... it feels like my heart breaks all over again.

thinking out loud.

So I've been going through a break-up for umm... almost two months now. I finally got through the hardest days... feeling like I wanted to die, not eating, obsessively thinking about what went wrong or what he's doing.

He found his own way of moving on. And I've tried finding mine. I tried exercising, singing, writing, therapy, studying. At least at first. To get over the utter despair. And none of that shit worked... or maybe all of it worked. I'm not sure because I just needed a minute, to let the angst pass. I can see his name or picture without chest pain now... and I can finally stop looking at both just in case I can't.

I tried rushing to date other people.... so I could disrupt the urges I had to call or to combat the loneliness. But what worked for him, moving on to the next thing of interest, didn't work for me. I don't want a relationship based in anything less than a deep emotional connection. If I can't find that, or if I'm not ready... I don't want anything. So while I was worried staying single would send the message that I was waiting for him, or too hurt to move on... I know I will date when I'm ready, and now, I'm just not. I'm not only still not over my past relationship, but in retrospect, I probably wasn't ready to be in one in the first place.

People always say love will find you once you find yourself. Maybe I thought I got lucky cause I found love while I was still tryna figure the self part out. But that's not the case. And I don't care what he thinks. I'm not over what we had because it was that special to me. And it meant something because in the end, I finally figured out that I need to finish building my house before I look for a roommate.

It's not easy. For one, because I'm downright lonely. For two, because I'm terribly busy studying for the bar. For three because it's hard finding yourself when you're not sure where to look.

I miss our conversations. I miss watching you work. I miss falling asleep on the phone. Talking through sunrise. Holding hands in the village. I miss feeling safe. I miss feeling loved... even though I doubted it. I miss feeling understood. and I just... I just knew it was my turn this time...

And it wasn't. I just need to be ok. To work through these feelings of inadequacy. I want to say it's ok that I've never had a boyfriend, and never brought a guy home to meet my parents... or had a guy interested in doing so. But it isn't. It affects me deeply and until I accept it and become truly happy with myself... I'll never attract the love I want. I just don't understand why it's so damn hard to do. Only thing I could think of that's more difficult than that... is getting over him.

FREE.

Free just may be my favorite word. I found the following on my desk when I was cleaning up. and at the top it read: FREE. All caps. Period. And it is at the root of everything I write. Your freedom and mine. Tell me what you think.

It is said that definitions belong to the definers
but when no one involved knows who they are in the first place,
all the words end up muddled
into a sea of oxymoronic phrases
and the only thing you can't confuse,
is the truth

that to be touched, is to be emotionally affected

that my greatest moment of weakness
and my most profound moment of strength
would collide at full speed
and though my vehicle is damaged
I would appear to emerge unscathed
that another being could rob me of agency
I never knew I had
that an act so motivated by the power of another of another
could empower me
that I will always remember the moment
I paid someone else to help me forget

to be touched, is to have come into contact with

to lay a hand upon.
and who would think,
that bare hands
could reach a heart, a home, a soul, so deeply
and that something so dirty
could be purely- physical
that the only evidence it left behind
is etched in the front of my cerebral cortex
and something I swore would never happen again,
has attached itself to every facet of my life
and what always seemed so black and white
was only grey matter
what seemed so consequential
I had the power to make Not. Matter.
But no matter what I did
I couldn't make it better
because when it couldn't get any worse,
it encouraged my best.

to be touched, is to be moved

I was taken from a place of sanity
diagnosed with a condition
and the cause of my current state,
my conditioner if you will,
was by definition-
supposed to improve the quality of some other material
for everything he broke,
I gained the power to fix
and where he left me bare, I had access
to reach inward to repair...
all without leaving another scar
It appears God only works in the strangest of ways.
for a moment that stopped so much of my life...
it did just that.
stopped.so.much.of.my.life.
but the truth that sets this free
is that for all that it stopped,
it allowed me to go on
just never in the same way
and when things don't remain the same,
but the change is good
we call it progress
we can change the way we battle
but we can't control the test
and how crazy is it that
the most dehumanizing of all tragedies
has strengthened in me,
the most human of all emotions:
LOVE.
and I've never found discomfort in insanity,
because genius, requires it
it is said that definitions belong to the definers
perhaps only until they are taken by the defined
and the only thing left upon which to rely...

is the truth.

(Wrote this sometime in 2009)

who do you want to receive your love?

I got asked an interesting question. What do I want in a guy? not just a guy... the guy. Or some variation of that. And to be honest, I have a habit of picking victims who lack emotional maturity... they are never in a place that they are ready to love me. Not until I let them go. I'm tired of that. I know I do not want that.

But what do I want? After so much pain and so many failed relationships... the most recent being like ummm yesterday just about... I think I only know what I don't. First and foremost I don't want to live in fear. And I say that because right now i shudder at the thought of doing this all over again. i did before him, i cried on his shoulder and told him how scared i was of going through exactly what i'm going through now. if you tell a robber, please don't steal from me... i've been robbed 3 times this year... he's still going to want your diamond necklace. and at the end of the day, there's little i can do about it.

but i digress. what I want in a partner is chemistry, honesty, and respect. i want him to have a job that pays well, can have long hours but also has short ones. I love children, would never eliminate a man with them... but I don't want him to have kids. i want us to dream together. about the birth of our first child. i want him to love me. really love me. love every part of me. and understand me. i want him to be intelligent...but not so much that he can't enjoy the banal.

i want him to say sweet things... but not rehearsed or forced... just a genuine interest in me. i'd like him to be open with me and be able to maintain mystery. i want him to think about others... be concerned with a cause enough to actively work toward correcting it. Not necessarily as a career, but financially or through service.

i want him to respect women... treasure them. and I want him to have a past that he has learned from and a future he's excited about. i want him to be spiritual, maybe even religious... understanding that I'm not, and convicted enough that he believes i will. i'd like us to pray together. to surround ourselves with friends and family. for once to clearly define the boundaries of a relationship and do so without hesitation.

I want him to be tall, dark, handsome... charming, affectionate... and passionate. Passionate about life. He also better love my dog. Not necessarily all dogs... but mine. And mostly... for him to be proud to have me... and offer me security. No more excuses. No missed dates. Maybe some hand holding too... oh yea, no more long distance!

like drowning.

My therapist asked me what this felt like. at the time, I couldn't verbalize it, all I could say was... bad. it hurt. i felt dumb. used. frustrated. confused. more used. scared. tired. when relationships end, you work to convince yourself one way or the other, that you actually hated the other person and it's best, or that you loved the other person and it was just time. well i felt both those things because to date i'm not sure what exactly it was.

a large part of me believes i was used. that's his modus operendi. to use until there is none left. and he doesn't love me. he can't because love doesn't remain silent for a month while I lost weight, cried daily, stopped eating, slept all day, and vomited when it was all too much. love doesn't refuse you closure. and he has.

but what i fear the most... is that i fell in love with a monster. a liar and a cheat. and man who lacks compassion. like the woman who discovers her husband of several years was a serial killer. you can say all you want, he was just a bad person.. but what does it say about you that of all the people in the world who needed it, you chose to give yours to the most undeserving of them all.

my mind thought this. my mind understands these feelings. they are logical feelings. but my heart.... my heart can't think about these feelings... it just feels like.... drowning.

like everyday i'm drowning... fighting like hell to stay above water but some days i sink to the bottom and stay there. until i regain the will to push myself back up again. the days i go out and have a good time... is like the split second my head pops out of the water to catch my breath. Then it hits me that it's not only over, but when it happened it was rooted in deception and i sink back down again. the days i give in i relax my muscles, sink back down to the bottom and slowly float up. i use astrology, prayer, therapy, writing as buoys my savior throws at me. I grasp at them in desperate attempts to keep from drowning to death. it's fucking exhausting. and what keeps me afloat... is sheer will. just the will to come out of the water after all is said and done.

what I can say is, the thing about almost drowning is... i'm not like the women he burned, or shot, or beat. I don't have permanent scars. we don't have children, or accounts, or a home together. so when i do come out of this water... the sun will dry any remnants i have of what we shared.... letters, photos, jewelry perfume. and i won't have the kinds of scars that last forever.

eventually i'll realize what feels like an ocean is only a pool... and if I manage to stand... I'll be ok after all.

I feel you near.

I remember a time when we were together... I'd get your text or call just when I needed you. Or I'd be worried about you and you'd say you were fine but... I knew when you needed me. I know how you are when you're down. You keep to yourself. Stay quiet. I used to worry that all that rumbling in your brain would kill you. That no one could keep that much inside.

And now that there is nothing but pain and anger and sadness and love between us... I wonder if what I'm feeling is real. I worry about you. At times, I feel as if I can feel your sadness. Other times, like I can feel you thinking of me.

I'm so angry with you. I'm so hurt by you. But I love you. With every muscle in my body I do... I swear. I'm learning to deal with it.... but I loved you so deeply, I feel like I can feel your sadness. Like I can feel you near me, thinking of me. I'm probably wrong... but my heart pains me... and that same heart tells me it's pain we share.

It's been 20 days.

I still feel you near.

No 808s, just the latter.

This verse starts as my snipers hit they marks...

and your guards fall down from a rifle to the heart.

I learned that at its core, love is about trust. And when it's destroyed, without dedicating yourselves fully to repairing it, it's only a matter of time before it all crumbles before you. And I also learned that, if you go into every situation with you guard up, you become so weary carrying that armor that the moment someone makes you feel at home... you drop your protection so fast you forget why you had it on in the first place.

And so I gladly let my guard down for you... not only did you make me feel at home, you were the first person to do so. so in addition to feeling tremendous comfort, I felt gratitude. Like I owed you for thinking of me without provocation, what I had been trying to convince the world of my entire life. And I valued that so much I would fight ferociously for it.

Walking around armorless was so scary, yet so liberating. It was the first time I could freely be my complete self with a person. But I feared everyday that it was a cruel joke, a lie, a ploy to get more out of me then I would hand over with my guard up. I was the bank teller you convinced to remove the bullet proof glass so you could see her better... but you were robbing the bank all along.

I think back to the time we spent and wonder what was the motivation for choosing me. You had many loves, near and far... old and new, why did you need me? After the first night we spent I wrote, pain I know, it's the love that's new. And I guess a part of me hoped if at anytime in our journey what you were feeling wasn't in line with what I was feeling, you'd excuse yourself before you'd hurt me. And what I realize now is, we were dealing with 2 issues. One was certainly a love that moved to fast, feelings too deep, too soon- that we tried desperately to slow down... and then the second issue of you just being dishonest.

And I was so mad. so hurt. so frustrated. so sick. because I'll never know if it was real for you... I'll only know how real it was for me. The running to the bathroom in the middle of dinner to cry. The stoic waking up in the morning. Wanting to die so I can watch your reaction from heaven. Writing letters to keep myself from calling. Reading your twitter to see if you're hurting like I am. Because, I can accept that we didn't work. That it was bad timing. Even that you or I made mistakes. But I can't fathom that you didn't really love me. That it was all a lie.

I haven't eaten a real meal in 5 days. And as angry as you made me, I finally have gotten to a point where I am not thrown into any intense emotion by your twitter. Not love, not hate, not jealousy, not sadness. I have accepted that I am alone in this heartbreak. I know you're making love to the mother of your child as I write this. And I'm nursing the wounds you left on my spirit. I know in time, I won't be up late nights weeping. And I'll be able to move on... but I think the fact is, I didn't want to with you.

I wanted this to work because I'm still in love with you. And I just knew after the last time, I would never fall for anyone who didn't love me back. But I did. And no friend or website or book of astrology has been able to make me feel better. I said pain I knew... well this is a different kind. It is new to me. Feels like everyday you try to hurt me more often, and on purpose. And the really sucky part is.... whether I'm wrong or right about your motives.... it works and I do.

I can only rely on the fact that if we were still together, you'd be sneaking out to talk to me on the phone, while they sleep. And as much I may think I want you... I don't want that, nor do I deserve it.

"i killed who she could've been"

oprah had a show on child molesters. she interviewed a man who molested his younger relative from early childhood until he was 20 years old. she asked him what he did when he raped her.

he replied,

"i killed who she could have been."

i often think of all the things in this world that can destroy children. and i pray fervently for the ones in my life. it's amazing the pain the human body can endure... but it shouldn't have to.

i sometimes harbor the pain of others. not in a, i know what you're going through way, just a... I'm so sorry way. I think every being on this earth deserves love and peace and it hurts deeply to know there are innocent people who endure what they do.

if you're reading this, and you're in pain- i just wanted to say, i'm so sorry.

it is not your fault.

it is not your fault.

it is not your fault.

hello!

i'd really like to follow your blog... can you share it with me?

on purpose

i stumbled across a very interesting website called thesuicideproject. no, i'm not getting any crazy ideas, but i do often feel down. i deal with my depression by writing, but often times, i find it hard to write if i'm feeling down enough. this was a whirlwind of weeks, dealing with the loss of a relationship, a shitty job market, and general, wtf is my life about? how will i survive the next 20 years when i can't hold on to 1 thing that makes me happy? God is trying and testing me in ways I can't understand. Ways I don't know how to deal with other than being present... and if he is testing me i am at a loss because i have yet to find a way to act within his vision. he wants me to do something and i ain't moving yet.

i digress though. in all my confusion, and writers block, i look toward other writers to express feelings i can't or inspire thought life hasn't. the suicide project is a collection of suicide letters... some what you may think of as traditional, but many are really introspective looks at life and it's meaning or for some, lack thereof. One note read:

"I don’t know why I breathe now. Maybe its because of that so called survival mechanism or maybe its because I don’t want those few people who would actually care if I was dead (close family) to be sad. Still, I don’t want to exist in almost constant soul-crushing pain just so a few people can have the piece of mind that I still exist."

from NRTL #2

It's a common thread in many of these notes. the idea that the only thing keeping these people alive is the fear of hurting friends and family who would be destroyed by their absence. for a long time i thought love kept us alive. but no.... love plays a different role. human beings survive on purpose. love just makes us seek purpose from some more than others. at then end of the day, a person lives because they need to feel they have purpose. and with purpose comes duty, we have a duty not to disappoint, hurt or destroy those who give us purpose. our fear of breaking that trust keeps most of us alive when we feel everything else wants us dead.

it's why people who can't work are so miserable. jobs, careers, give us purpose. romantic relationships give us purpose. family gives us purpose. and that doesn't mean they give us anything else. not security, not freedom, not companionship. cause you get to that place alone. they aren't around when you're literally making a life or death decision, that happens at a table where only you and God can sit. but when you're in the darkest of places, and you are deciding that, often times the only safety you have is the thought that your child, or sibling, or parent, or boyfriend does not to deserve to feel like you do right then.

purpose is life. life is love. love is unselfish.

please protect this love...

i.... don't know what to say.... other than.....

thank you.i'm sorry.i love you.god bless you.in time.please don't.soon.i can't.


someone tell ::lauryn:: i need her. i wanna be love(d).

wings.

I know how it feels when the night demons come. We can’t let them control our hands and feet. Sometimes when it hurts so bad we have to just lay in the bed. Just lay in bed and don’t move Please, I know how it feels. I wish McQueen could have just been still. Don’t let the psychiatrists give you their drugs because it slows down your wings. Society and public opinion can beat the wings off of angels. When God sees they can’t take it anymore, he brings them home.

i live for you yé

Even after all this time
the sun never says to the earth,
"You owe Me."

Look what happens with
a love like that,
it lights the Whole Sky.

-Hafiz

I know he don't like it, but I cried because... as smart as I am, I still have trouble processing that another human being is capable of loving me as much as I have the capacity to love him. And to hear him say it, over and over, was really overwhelming. Like, i remember hearing someone say, I was never in love with you. That felt like being punched in the chest so hard your wind got knocked out of you and then, just when you thought you caught your breathe... it still throbs. But hearing "I love you" meaningfully, and repeatedly- felt like the moments when I got my breath back. Intense... and maybe a little painful too. Not because it hurt to be alive, but cause being dead before was so excruciating. thank you for that.

picture paragraphs unloaded

At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. No record of it needs to be kept and you don't need someone to share it with or tell it to. When that happens — that letting go — you let go because you can.

Toni Morrison.

on love.

love is patient.

you held my hand as we waited
staring at a busy intersection,
the seconds ticking down on the crosswalk,
soon time would stop,
the cars would stand motionless,
and it would be our time.
distracted by the world surrounding us,
the grip you had on my palm
came as a surprise,
the only proof i had you were even there,
was the impression you left
across my skin
staring at this extremity,
i saw a long life,
and the red rings you left,
the throbbing from blood rushing to my fingertips,
put you in it-
if only for the moment we waited to cross.

love is kind.

the moment my perception went from yellow to red,
i felt it was time to let go,
even if i didn't feel safe,
i was accustomed to going alone,
assured that all i'd have left after these 30 seconds
was another 30 to walk on without you.
my sunshine would set,
and i'd navigate the darkness,
with two free hands.
having both allowed me to feel more.
but you help tighter,
and the impression you left on me,
sunk far deeper than the flesh.
for so long i felt i was stronger
for walking with two free hands,
when i finally realized that if I held yours,
i had three....
and i could conquer anything
that threatened my journey.
and with my new found vision,
i could see that I didn't have to run alone,
if we could walk together.
the world would have to wait for us.

love, is not self seeking.

we reached the other side of the street,
stronger than when our journey started,
still giving bits of ourselves
to hold on to our grasp,
I found that the support I got from our union,
the fist we formed,
if kept together could fight off any threat,
I offered my wrist
so we'd be more flexible,
my forearm so we'd be able to hit harder,
my elbow so we could lift each other up,
and my shoulder so we could hold each other.
all i ever hoped was that neither of us would let go.

love does not envy.

my desires included your happiness
and the more power i saw in us,
the more of you i wanted.
i began to fear walking alone
in the shadow of the power of our footsteps.
there is no love in fear.
i wanted from you
what only time could give
i saw different parts of the world
take your eyes,
grab at your ears,
possess your mind,
and suddenly-
your hand just didn't seem enough,
so focused on
holding one of your hands on our journey,
i never noticed
you used your other to hand me your heart.

love does not delight in evil.

we are imperfect
and often fail to see,
how wanting so badly to keep walking
hand in hand,
can hurt us.
instead of walking around adversity together,
fear sent us running in opposite directions.
we pulled each other toward misery
when our vision was to walk all along.
if i was looking with my heart,
i'd give you my hand willingly,
feel with one,
allow a part of me to be missing,
before i'd ever cause you any pain

love is enduring.

as we continue our walk,
we face insurmountable odds,
but what i will always appreciate,
is that after every obstacle,
after every block,
at each intersection,
i look toward our journey,
past the mountains and mole hills,
glance down at our hands
see past the scratches and bruises,
and see LOVE in their determination
to hold on.
like the fingerprints you left on me,
without once breaking my skin,

love, always protects.

in the past,
when life was too much
and I felt I could no longer give enough,
i believed fear kept me going.
too scared to end it all,
too wracked with guilt to disappear,
cowardice kept me alive.
and as i saw our love gasp for air,
i credited the fear of being alone
with fighting to save it.
but fear was not my saviour...
it did not drive me.
love, kept me.
love, kept us.

it. never. fails.

------------------
author's note: this piece was written as a companion to/extension of "on pain." so much has happened since that weekend but, in short... we're still holding hands.

"I allow myself to feel"

I never watch Mo'nique's show but I think today God brought me to it. I watched Jill Scott come out to talk about her current projects. And she just looked so full of God's light that I hesitated at the sight of her happiness. Her afro looked so confident... her face so beautiful... her voice so rich. And Mo asks, how are you inspired to write your music?

She replied, "I allow myself to feel." and with just that sentence, I wept.

I think society, family, friends, and myself have taught me to do just the opposite. when I sink into an impossible state of depression, i'm supposed to put on a happy face. carry on. live. pretend that whatever devastating thing that has happened to me didn't because, feeling- is weakness. and i wish i would have allowed myself to feel more often.

to respond to people who expressed concern for my family that i didn't know if they were ok and i can't watch the news without throwing up from anxiety. or to tell my mother my grades were so shitty my first semester of law school because i was raped two weeks before it started and was too ashamed to tell anyone. to say to the world, behind this facade is a severely wounded woman who does not know how to feel. twitter says, tweet the most wonderful things about yourself and facebook says only tag the most beautiful pictures... because the world only wants to know us at our best selves.

i feel betrayed by someone who i felt was my sister. my first love, was never in love with me. my mother hates her life and constantly expresses regret. my father told her that my graduation pictures look nice because i don't look that dark. and i never really felt any of these things. i never said i bust my ass because i constantly feel like i am not good enough. not for that friend who chose someone else and not for that guy who loves someone else.

my horoscope said tomorrow is a new moon. and with that, i just want to feel. and if i can manage to FEEL my way out of whatever i'm going through, i wont just be here. i'll be present.

wearing this mask, is what i've been taught to do for so long, i forgot it's ok to take it off when i'm home. and wherever we live... blogsphere, twitter, DC, our own minds-- we each deserve to feel. it's the only thing that makes each of us human.

"i tell you, I know everybody’s in the same mess. I’m telling you. We all are. I know that, you know, and I’m just, you know, I’ll be the first to tell you, you know, I’m a mess and God is dealing with me everyday. And everyday I’m trying, you know, how I can be less of a mess. Cuz you know, he showed me, Look Lauryn, you know, You’re the problem, ok, I’m going to show you how you’re causing the problem, and now I want you to be the solution"

and who knows better than lauryn?

2/12/10

I've been in love twice. Got my first boyfriend about 2 months ago. ten months away from 24, five months away from a law degree. i been waiting on him my whole life. to be in love, and have it reciprocated. to hold someone that wants to be held. to be there for someone who needs me. i feel like my entire life i had wonderful friends, loving family, a stellar career and beauty. i worked so hard at being beautiful inside cause i wasn't always beautiful outside and i knew there was no value in that. and finally- finally... i found him. and to this moment i believe when we were born God and fate drew us together. our bodies match, our faces match, our signs match, our futures match... we. just. fit.

and now i've reached a point where i feel that the Gods listened... gave me what i needed so badly, what i prayed for everyday.... and took away everything else. like an addict i got my drug and in the process, lost so much i held so dear. literally watched my country destroyed. dead bodies on street corners. my family.... homeless. listening to my parents weep every. night. hearing reports of more and more bodies found under the remnants of our family homes.

friends i have shared for years... dropping off like flies. and you reach a moment when you say... this. is. not. my. fault. but no one says the rest.... it doesn't matter whose fault it is.... it just plain hurts. it was the sacrifice of abraham... and i rather give my friendship up than see it cut in half. and while all this shit falls down the only shit left standing was us. and to be honest, it called into question everything i've ever thought about happiness. as much as i love him... love is never enough. it's a foundation to be built upon not the whole house. but for every brick we lay down there is someone ripping it away... and sometimes... it's us.

i suppose having everything is impossible... but next time, i know to pray for balance... cause i was never good at playing both sides.