Lost and Not Found

I woke up but I’m not sure why. Like normal I’m floating in a fucking chasm on a seemingly endless journey to nowhere. I want an end point to work towards. I want a past to savor. And I want a present that makes each day worth waking for.

I guess I should start by telling you I just read all of the Shades of Gray trilogy, within a week. I really loved it. I loved that in my imagination she could be plain-Jane as opposed to what we will see as soon as she is casted for the to-be movie. I was in love with all of it. At first I was nervous for her, Ana, but quite quickly I just became engrossed in all of it.

Here I am, post-shades and I’m lost. I miss the characters. I’m desperate to know how they are. I’m desperate to enjoy their lives and see that it all works out.

I’m desperate to be alive like that. Is reality like that? Do men that hold your hand, watch you breathe while you sleep, protect, and cherish you really exist? Someone so selfless and so in love that they would give up their heart just to have yours back in return?

This isn’t just about finding the right love, because god knows and I know that I don’t have him. This is about being alive and belonging. Fitting within yourself, your home, your work, your body… everywhere you go. Belonging to something, feeling a part of something.

I feel so lost. I guess I’m almost to the point where I don’t even think I’ll be found. Is that why I can’t push him away?

I just want to be found.

The Warmth

There may be something about the slow sizzle of spring that makes me so weak. We talk about spring fever in an escence of teasing desire, but what it really truly means has nothing to do with being a teenager in love.

This warmth flows over my body and I long to be laying on a blanket in the grass beside you. I long to feel heat radiating from your body encompassing my desire with one ebb of air.

I want to reach out and touch you. I want to listen to your heartbeat with my ear pressed firmly to your chest. I want to run my fingers over the soft skin on your arms. To feel the dimple of your elbow and the kiss of sweat on the inside of it. To run my fingers through your hair and watch your eyes droop at the soothing sensation.

So many things about my desires just don't fit. So much of who I am just doesn't work with us. But no matter the ill-fit of our lives, I still want to breathe you.

I wish I could change it. You, me, us... but I can't. Nothing of this is changeable. This has all proven too much. We touch for what... habit, lust, fear, regret?

So here I am wishing it could be like that again. Here I am wishing to embrace all the warmth that is embracing me this season. I miss you. It hurts inside knowing that I chose this. I chose to come back to this stuckness.

I read back on the things I've had, the people I've met, the way we touched. It makes me sore. I want to be alive. I want to feel. To be the passionate person I was born to be and embraced for all that I bring to this relationship.

Someday I will picnic again. Someday I will lay beside a man that loves me for me. Someday I will be brave enough to walk away and find what I deserve. But until then this warmth will continue to melt me.

Who's Voice?

I try to understand the voice I hear, but it is garbled. There are sounds and thoughts of emphasis that pull at me and grab my attention, but more often than not I just don't understand that voice.

The new me is so many people all at once... mother, daughter, lover, care-taker, friend, nurse, gardener, home owner, employee, creator, and confidante. With all these voices bouncing around my head, the hum of self barely exists.

Probably the most pressing at the moment is that I'm the rather new mother of a teenage boy. Nowadays, teens have enough pain and emotion to process for even the very best birth parent to handle; but I'm not even that. And to top it off, I'm only ten years older than my kid.

I love this child... I hurt when he hurts... I feel when he feels. I want to hold him and protect him but the little shit is bigger than I am, by about a foot! I'm such a huggy, lovey person but with this relationship I have to figure out new boundaries. I have to be strong where I would normally be weak. I have to smile where I would normally cry. This tests me to the core, but I can't help it, because I love him and I will continue to support him.

When everything around me feels such a wreck, I know that I have to be stable. I have to be the strength to hold him up when he feels like diving under. I'm tired beyond tired. I drive out of my way by 45 minutes to take him to school every morning and to pick him up every evening. But no matter how complex my life or surroundings could be, I find strength... for him.

I didn't raise him from birth so I didn't instill in him the values I find of the utmost importance. Probably the most difficult we struggle with is lying. Down to my deepest bone I believe in honesty. I live as true and forthright as I can bare to be. And he lies. He lies so much I'm not sure what to believe. I want to trust him, believe him, support him... but how do you support something when you don't even know that it's real?

I've given him blind faith and been led astray. I want to teach him better. I keep thinking if he just trusts me enough he'll stop lying,... but I ultimately don't know that. One major aspect of raising a teen is knowing that they make their own decisions, and merely attempting to shape their choices without force.

With all of these new aspects in my life, each day is tiring. I have all these voices screaming at me to be this or to be that. When each day all I want to be is me... better and better, me. Why can't I just hear me?  Maybe I could be stronger if I could just hear my voice a little bit more.