I remember you

Ah, there you are.

I remember you.

I see you.  Past your swollen, bloodshot eyes and your despair, I see you.  Where have you been hiding?  Wait. Let me guess. Under a pile of papers well, in this case, google documents, am I right?  I knew it.  Come, sit and write with me for awhile.  It’s been a long time coming, this post. I agree the rain is not helping.  But welcome back. You look like hell but I know you are glad to feel your limbs, your face, your fingers typing again.  It’s been too long.  So tell me, what’s up? How have you been?

Displaced

Displaced

I see.

You feel displaced, misplaced, and out of sorts, like a bathtub in the middle of an arabica farm. Hhhmm…how in the world did you end up here, like this?  Spent. Barely breathing. Lost. Repentant.

I have an idea…

This happens when you’re not paying attention. When you work too much. When you tunnel vision and ignore the best parts of you, the people you love, the people who love you, those who matter most, things that make you happy and whole.  When you don’t listen to the throbbing on your right temple, which makes you unkind. The exact same one you now have from weeping all day.  The throbbing that tells you stop. Tells you take a break.  Look around. To see who you are loving? Hurting? Neglecting? Nurturing? Whose hand do you have to/need to hold right then and there?  Even in the dark, it’s good to reach for it. To let him know, you are still there. And there for him.  Completely.  Even if it’s lifeless from the waiting and the frustration. Hold it. Hold it tight and don’t let go.  Because it’s the most important thing to you.  It’s the hand you were born to hold. It’s his hand that you were built for. Have been waiting patiently, expectantly for.  Don’t let go. If you’re lucky enough that it ever reaches for you again, don’t ever let it go.

It also happens when you don’t take pictures with your big camera, or pick up a pen or write a post about what you’re grateful for.  When you stay in the city too long. When you don’t commune with the ocean.  When you are not creating.  When  you don’t talk to family. The worst of it is when you can hear what he is saying but you don’t listen to the aching of his heart.  When all he wanted was love and all you could see was the hazy mist of your fatigue. The same fatigue that has put your relationship in the ringer.  The same one that beat the life out of  you and the most important thing to you. The exhaustion that’s been recently lifted leaving you with a desperate prayer and a remorseful heart.  Hurtful words  have escaped the darkest recesses of everything that makes you  broken and flawed, spoiled and selfish. And now you’re sorry. You yell this to the air in the silence of your apartment.  And the universe and  your neighbors now know just how sorry you are. You weep. Loudly. You did this to yourself, you know that right?  And now you are a bathtub in the middle of a coffee farm. Alone.

Then there are the old scripts.   It’s when you fall into old scripts that don’t serve you. That don’t belong to you anymore. That don’t define you. But you default into those spaces because they are familiar, which  in the end act as some sort of defibrillator that wakes you back up into this new reality.

CLEAR. thathumpthathump  your heart is beating again. Thumping evenly to the beat of this remembering.  Of a now that you can embrace because you are still alive.

This authentic now that you honor with instagram shots everyday because your heart is bursting with gratitude and joy.  This real life that tells  you every single moment that you don’t fit into that old mold anymore. That you’re new. That the you that you have fought hard for, prayed for, the part of you where you can offer something good, life giving, loving to everything and everyone, exists. The you you have to stop abandoning. Forgetting. The best you that can only come from a space of love and honesty and acceptance. The you that’s anchored by something bigger and greater than yourself.  Which has brought us here. Already a special space that you momentarily forgot you already had. Still have.  The one he recognized. The one He made.  The one you deserve. The one you and I remember today.

So yeah, I remember you.

Glad to have you back.  Even if you look like shit and feel like hell.

So what are you waiting for?  Go get your ice pack.  Place it on your tired eyes. The swelling will subside.  Your heart will heal as you learn from this. As you suck it up. As you grow up. You’ll learn to forgive yourself.  You’ll learn to be better.  You’ll  know how to love stronger, fiercer. You’ll keep praying because you know you can’t do this alone.  And we both know that, love and writing always save the day.

And your kids.  Don’t forget the 128 kids who need you to be solid and strong.

And his heart…listen to his heart as you place it next to yours.  Don’t ever lose sight of its beating again.

grateful slice:  remembering

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

2 comments

  1. Reulita Guinto

    Everything is good for the ones who love HIM. You are being guided to the right path. Learn from it and follow….

    MOMMY

    On Thu, Feb 14, 2013 at 8:35 PM, You are Here

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