you should not have to love with hesitation

  your love isn’t too much

  an apology to the people who have been called

  “too sad to love”:

  you battle the storms you do

  because you carry a depth in you

  that shallow souls will never understand

  your depth is not a burden

  it is a gift

  don’t worry about the destination

  your only concern

  is the next step.

  just concentrate on jumping over

  today’s puddles.

  when you learn to perform first aid, the first step is to make sure the victim is safe. i have discovered that healing from trauma is the same. to heal, we must find ourselves in a space where we feel safe. we cannot simultaneously mend our hearts and defend our walls. sometimes that means movement. it means leaving this place or these people behind. it means searching for new locations where the storms inside you finally feel at rest. then—and only then—can you open your suitcase, unload all you’ve been carrying, and sort through the past. only when your heart is safe can you finally let it lie.

  seek shelter first.

  when life feels out of control

  find comfort in all that stays the same

  the sun still rises

  the seasons remain

  the air is filled with a familiar fresh aroma

  every time it rains

  when the world feels like it is collapsing

  remember that

  some things do not change

  you must give yourself

  the nutrients to grow

  growth does not simply

  happen to you;

  it is a result

  on the days

  when the little things

  become too much

  and even the smallest movement

  requires the greatest strength

  you are not fragile

  you are not weak

  you are climbing mountains

  that nobody sees

  strength is not only walking away. it is shaking hands with whatever you are leaving because you have made peace with that disaster.

  leave the tempest out of your freedom, not your fear.

  i woke up one day

  and the rain had gone away

  but the clouds descended from above

  and fogged up my brain

  now i don’t know where to go

  i cannot see my way

  when i look into the mirror

  i cannot find my face

  i don’t want to be friends

  with the person i’ve been lately

  i don’t want to think about love anymore. or at least i don’t want to think about it in the way i did before. i’ve been making myself sick waiting for the perfect love story. i’m done poking needles in my skin trying to inject love into my veins. i want to stop chasing people and affection. instead, i want to start soaking in the earth and the sunlight until i become a walking painting of love that is not forced.

  there is love in this world that will simply seep into your veins. there is love you don’t have to hurt yourself to receive.

  learn to contend with your question marks

  learn to accept what wasn’t

  but could have been

  there are times in life where we aren’t really moving toward a destination. we hover in the hallway of existence. gazing at the photos on the wall. we wait in the space between our memories and our future.

  remember that there is purpose in this too. there is time to rest in the hallway and wait for the next door to open. we don’t always have to be anxious or impatient for tomorrow. be grateful for the time you’ve been given to heal, grow, and regroup before this next chapter starts.

  one moment

  i am bold

  and so sure of myself

  you could balance skyscrapers

  on my confidence

  the next moment

  the skyscraper falls

  and my insecurities scatter

  like broken glass across the floor

  why is it all so fragile?

  you must shut it all off

  silence the background noise

  so you can hear your heart.

  i realized i was doing everything wrong

  the day that someone told me

  that my problems

  were becoming my personality

  as much as that hurt to hear

  it was true

  sometimes

  it becomes necessary

  to spend time

  in the uncomfortable corners

  of your mind.

  one of the most terrifying experiences

  is when you lose the feeling of feeling entirely.

  when the sparks that used to ignite you

  simply ricochet off your skin

  like waterlogged kindling.

  every day seems to compound into a single impression of an uneventful existence.

  i think that is the reason

  we cling to the people and places that damage us.

  i would much rather spend the night with misery than spend the night alone.

  when the sun sets

  and i’m just tired enough

  to forget i’m better off without you

  i reach back to the place inside me

  that you haven’t quite departed yet

  and i relive a life you left behind

  and i reimagine a future where you didn’t go

  i want the little things back.

  it’s not the big picture anymore.

  it’s breakfast with you.

  it’s you allowing the sunlight

  to soak in to your skin.

  it’s chocolate chip pancakes and eggs

  on a green couch in my living room.

  it’s midday coffee shop trips

  because we couldn’t get out of bed.

  it is wandering through bookstores,

  racing you through grocery aisles

  with shopping carts.

  it’s the creases at the corners of your eyes,

  its phone calls that drag on into the night,

  it’s the way we said goodbye at least 8 times

  because i never really wanted to leave your side.

  i think we tend to let go of the small things last.

  i don’t need you anymore,

  i just want the chocolate chip pancakes back.

  you probably don’t notice it,

  but the world has turned 58 times

  since the last time i saw you.

  30 times since the day i stopped looking at

  photos of us together.

  and 0 times since the last time

  i thought about you.

  you can call it obsessive

  but i call it self-control.

  because if i really said

  all the things i wanted to say,

  we would be here until the earth stopped turning.

  to me, doing laps around the earth’s core

  is not a race i feel capable of running without you

  and sometimes it takes everything in me

  not to pick up the phone and call.

  but i don’t. because if i am going to spin

  out of control, i am going to do it with someone who

  notices every single shift the world makes without me and every sunrise they watch

  when i’m not by their side.

  i’m going to find someone who uses me

  to calculate time.

  even though

  i am happy for you

  there are still obvious gaps between my fingers

  where i know yours would fit perfectly.

  even though

  i know we will never end up together,

  i still have lighthearted arguments with my soul about letting you go.

  even though

  i feel a little heavier sometimes

  now that you aren’t mine,

  even though

  there was a time

  where we were sure

  where i swore i saw forever in your eyes,

  even though

  we loved each other

  but lost the fight,

  in the end i’m okay

  with the way you had to go,

  and i want you to know

  that i can be content

  with you being my

  “even though.”

  sometimes i imagine

  the me i would have been

  if we had never met

  and she appears so much lighter

  and she floats instead of walking

  and she wears the color yellow

  and she doesn’t hesitate to speak

  and she writes poetry about blue skies

  and listens to music with fewer string instruments

  and although she is lighter

  i’m not so sure that i like her

  or that she really knows herself

  so if it took losing you

  to meet myself truly

  i suppose i should thank you

  if only for this

  i’ve never really looked great in yellow

  and i’m a bit partial to my violins

  i don’t want to be looked at

  if you are not here to see my soul

  there is so much of me to behold

  i don’t want to be looked at,

  i want to be seen.

  sane love makes you feel insane

  if insane love is all you have ever known

  patient love makes you feel restless

  if restless love is all you have ever known

  gentle love makes you feel uneasy

  if uneasy love is all you have ever known

  peaceful love makes you feel anxious

  if anxious love is all you have ever known

  we are creatures of the love that we know

  the way we are accustomed to receiving love

  defines the love that we search for

  the worst kind of homesickness

  is the kind where you just want to get back

  to yourself

  people care much less about logic

  than they think they do.

  the likelihood of getting in a plane crash is about 1 in 11 million. regardless, the first time i boarded an airplane statistics became like fairy tales. the only number i cared about was the time that this hell ship would land and i could put my feet back on the ground. now i’ve probably been on at least 50 planes. i usually trust that i will land safely. the statistics didn’t change, but my feelings about flying did. it is not the numbers that lead to my trust in flight. it is my experience.

  it’s the same with my trust in people.

  i know your statistics are great, but my experience isn’t the same.

  i know it’s not fair, and the facts are all there, but it’s going to take a few flights before i can relax. it might take a couple smooth landings before i can trust you.

  the fact of the future

  is that you do not know

  until you know.

  don’t beat yourself up over things you didn’t know until you knew them. that person you should not have handed your trust to so readily, those things you probably shouldn’t have said, that disaster you could have averted. the world doesn’t always hand out red flags. it doesn’t give receipts for lessons we learned too late. so, we move forward, and we do the best that we can with the knowledge that we hold now.

  i wish you would let

  some of the love you give

  soak into your own bloodstream

  i started looking at letting go differently, because letting go of you was something that felt impossible. it was like trying to forget the lyrics to your favorite song; you can stop listening to the music on repeat but as soon as you hear it again, every word comes flooding back.

  i realize now that forgetting and letting go aren’t necessarily the same. although i can’t make myself forget the lyrics, i can stop singing along. no amount of time will remove this tune from my veins, but i can find new music. i’m coming to terms with the fact that the memories i made with you may be permanent but my misery is not.

  contentment feels like letting my guard down

  peace feels like a risk

  i used to think that no one could understand me.

  i prided myself on my individuality so much that it resulted in a deep loneliness. my internal conversation persuaded me to believe any feeling that i felt, i was experiencing entirely alone. i did not think that i could be simultaneously complex and comparable to others.

  what i called individuality was actually isolation.

  so, if you are the kind of person who likes to put yourself on an island, understand that it is possible to keep your identity even when sharing yourself. you do not lose your complexity just because you are understood. your ability to relate to others is a gift that should not be sacrificed for your pride.

  you are intricate.

  you are complex.

  the soul is a unique topographic image depicting your highs and your lows.

  you do not have to isolate yourself

  to prove that.

  there is time for you here

  there is time for you to be unsure about the future

  there is time for you to decide on your dreams

  there is time to change your mind when you realize those dreams weren’t everything you wanted

  there is time to find closure

  for wounds that took a little longer to heal

  there is time for you to find love

  and realize it wasn’t right

  even though it was real

  there is time for you to change

  and to grow

  and to wait

  you’re right on time

  you’re not running late

  know the difference between being kind

  and giving too much to the wrong people

  ~stop watering weeds

  you forgot my birthday

  because you were busy

  falling in love with someone new

  i know we don’t talk much anymore

  and i thought i was done expecting things

  from you.

  but it turns out

  birthday candles

  were the last part of us

  that was still burning.

  i blew them out.

  when i look into her eyes

  it’s as if she has lived a thousand lives

  i can see them all locked away

  begging for me

  to ask her to speak

  ~reflection

  who were you before all of this?

  the funny thing about fading

  is that so often,

  no one knows it’s happening

  but you

  no one notices

  when you disappear

  s  l  o  w  l  y

  i hate to say it

  but nothing has changed

  i write all these lines about how i’m over you

  but the truth is

  i know i would fall back into your arms

  the instant you allowed it

  does that make me weak?

  when i look at us in snapshots

  photos saved in my phone

  it appears perfect

  but when i consider

  who you really are

  and who i really am

  i realize you and i

  might be better apart

  it’s not that i can’t trust someone new

  it’s that i can’t trust myself anymore

  and that

  is so much worse

  you do not have to carry the weight

  of what someone else is feeling

  you do not have to carry the weight

  of what someone else is expecting

  you do not have to carry the weight

  of what someone else is experiencing

  the clouds are parting outside

  but it is still dark in here

  let me make mistakes

  let me miss my alarm

  let me trip over my shoelaces

 

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