I have flights of fancy; fleeting moments of extreme emotions. Both times of elation and times of depression. Mood swings can and do depend frequently, quite frankly, on the time of day, the shifting of wind or just the right song or wrong thought floating my way.
Or not.
This is who I am.
I love this person, in spite of the imbalance.
It is in seeking a balance that the imbalance is realized, heard, seen…and embraced.
It’s been a while but I am beginning to see me again, tiny pieces, short glimpses, fragments of that woman I was meant to be, attached to those insignificant scraps of self-hate and splintered memories of snap judgments: assaults against my very nature.
If this is the treatment given to myself and accepted by my self, what I ask, is the Universe to offer in return?
…I know right?
So, the above is written, to explain the below, among other things: I write because I feel things, or I hear things, or I see things.
Not everything written is about the outside of me and nothing ever written is not about the inside of me.
Understand?
Ok. I may put out a writing that has 3% of my feeling and 97% of something that someone I know and love, don’t know and do not care for, or any combination of such…is dealing with or going through. I put myself in that person’s mind, or his body, or her soul. This is what I do; this is my gift and my curse.
And so is forgiveness, but that is an essay of a whole other timeframe.
There are not many constants about me, I am consistently inconsistent (it’s a Libra thing). . . but if there is one constant, it is Love.
I love and I love deeply, thoroughly, and unconditionally.
Or not at all. For this, there is no middle ground:
She said plucking roses she never liked
I’m not a flower girl; flowers die
Give me words, they last forever…
And so…
He loves me, he loves me not
Let the petals fall where they may:
Love is awe-inspiring and beautiful and considerate and diligent and effortless and friendly and goose-pimply and habit-forming and intense and jovial and kind and laughable and mastering and necessary and oxygenating and prevalent and quivering and respectful and satisfying and test-filled and understanding and visible and wicked (the Boston kind of wicked) and xenophelius and yielding and zealous.
It’s time to get back to love because irrespective of where the last petal falls;
He loves me.
He can’t help it
For all intents and purposes, fortunate or un-, this is my Life ;-)~
* xenophilia – look it up, lol.
