In my not to distant past, I remember describing everything that I was going through at the time as the worst emotional roller coaster ever. I couldn't believe the turn my life had taken and spent many a nights (mornings, mid-mornings, afternoons and evenings) in a pool of tears. All in a desperate search to figure out 'What the F happened'. Everything had changed so suddenly and in time I came to figure out exactly what happened to get me to that place. 

Everything happens for a reason. 

Though it was a miserable time for me and all I wanted was someone to pick me up and fix everything, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

I felt pain in an instant. I felt hurt in waves. I felt sadness in loads. 

My life needed that. 

As much as I had been teased in my past about thinking the world revolved around me (and fought those words each and every time), I think I did start to convince my self that it might be the case. Not because I wanted to be malicious but in the craziness that was the house that became my world, I needed to do something to get myself to be ok. It was my escape of choice. I didn't get arrested. I didn't over eat. I didn't drink. I just sat in my own little orbit and tried desperately to be the only one there to get away from the world around me. It was my drug of choice. You want to run from the pain. Run from the fear. The sadness and the frustration. So I did. 

In to me. 

As I grew up, I thought that I had done the work I needed with that and I could finally grow to be outside of me. 

Ha. Next. 

I needed to be thrown in to the spin cycle of crap. I have yet to meet a person who owns that but I am sure that they exist. I needed to see that the stubbornness I wasn't allowing to leave my life, was only holding me back from being whatever state of 'normal' I was meant to be in. 

and I had that handed to me in a ride. I was grabbing on to the hand rails in a desperate attempt to get through everything with out falling out (of control). 

A few months back, my life changed again... Here goes.

Calm and I did it.

Periodically, I find myself touching my index finger to my middle finger on each hand and holding them out in front of me. I do this, mostly, in moments of impending frustration or anger to remind myself not to go there. To keep the calm I have worked so very hard in such a short time to achieve. It, by no means, never leads to full on frustration and/or anger. It is just nice to know that I have it and I do because I did it.

These days, my calm has been tested quite a bit and has required the 'hold' more often than I can remember in short spurts. Each time, however, it has been there for me to remind me that I have it. I have calm and, again, I did it.

If, for no other reason, I am writing today to remind myself that above all else that has happened in my life in a few short years, months, weeks and even days, I did it. I picked myself up. I cheered for myself. I taught myself. I made myself happen for me.

Most importantly, I did it.

With calm.

EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!!

I AM A BIG KID NOW!

What is that? That feeling. The feeling that you got it. The feeling that you might, very well, have things under control.

Is it possible?

I mean, after all, for as long as I have known, control was a far off idea. For me, at least. A thought that maybe it just might be a fantasy. How would it be possible to have control over my own life?

Funny thing, I do.

And I am NOT letting it go.

You want some? You better be prepared to do the work.

Wow. I know that I have made mistakes. Many, to be exact. I also know that I recognize my mistakes and, at this point of my life (if never before), I own them. I made them. For goodness sake, I can't go around blaming other people for the choices I have made over time. That is, well, not possible, though attempted. Besides, I am also at a point where I want and need to learn from my mistakes. Who wants to repeat the crap that got you into such a cruddy place to begin with? A crazy person, if you ask me. Though there have been times when I have been referred to as crazy, I like to think of it as a whole other kind of crazy.

I repeat, wow.

In no way at all does this mean that I will never make a mistake again. I am sure I will. In fact, I guarantee it. Will I know when or how? Nope but neither will anyone else walking the face of this planet.

Now that brings me to my most recent mistake. Right now, it makes me sad to think of the last few weeks of my life as a mistake but you have to call it like you see it and I am doing just that even if it means twisting the knife in my heart just a little bit more. If it is, it is.

To think for a second that I had a second chance in my life with a relationship so very special to me was, well, a crock of shit to put it bluntly. Everything happened so suddenly and it has been the moment I was hoping for these last two years. The same two years where I have been working on me and becoming a better version of myself. There was always a part of me hoping. So I finally got it or what seemed to be it. In the beginning, I did my best to stay on top of the game and I have to say that I did really well. I kept control of the situation. I pressed the buttons and determined how and when. Yet as the days went on and things began to move along, I still did my best to keep control over everything while, still, feeling the situation I was missing for some time now. I was bringing back the missing piece in my life. The decision was made, out of the gate, that everything would be taken one day at a time. We would see how things unfolded on a day to day basis. I was fine with that, I really was. In fact, that is what worked for me in my life right now. I need slow. I need steady. The other side of me wanted to jump right in but I stuck close to the realistic side and kept moving.

As the days moved into weeks, I started to get a little more hopeful each day. In small pieces but hopeful nonetheless. Again, I wanted to jump in head first but put on a helmet and held back.

So, as the days turned into weeks, things happened. Things happened in what seems to be a millisecond....

'Do you want to go away next weekend?'

My response (First, in my head, 'Wow') 'Which weekend?'

'The weekend of the 8th.'

'Yeah, I think I have to do something then but I haven't been contact yet so yes, I'd like to go.'

Was that the moment? The moment this so-called panic set in for them? If so, what did they ask me for?? What are you doing?? For F sake, what is the deal?!

Anyway, things didn't immediately change at that moment. They went on and rather nicely. The days turned into the next and eventually, I had to return to my personal life. So I did but things continued on as if something was happening again. Something good was opening up. Still, though, the helmet stayed and I remained cautious. Cautiously happy.

A few days later, I almost jumped over the moon when I received a message I thought I would never get. At least not now, for sure. They wanted to spend even more time with me.

More? Now? Really? Yes.

I embraced it and welcomed it with open arms. I was so excited. Perhaps more than I should have been. Regardless, they came and we enjoyed our time together. Every last minute of it. Who would have thought that it might be the last minutes if it? Then two days later happened..

Ironically, two days later turned out to be a very special day in our previous life together. We spent a long time talking about it and trying to determine what to do with it. In the end, it was decided that it would be treated as any other day. Fine with me.

'Would you like to go to dinner?'

'Yes, that would be nice.'

Why wouldn't I say yes? It was the 'special' day after all.

Alright, I made my way to their place looking forward to a dinner with them. Something that hasn't happened in a very long time. We would sit, eat and reminisce. So great.

I park, get out of the car and make my way to them. We say hello and sit to just be with each other. For the next 15 minutes at least... As I sat and looked them in the face, I felt something inside me. Something wasn't right so I asked.

'Nothing. I am fine.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. Why do you ask?'

'Because of the way you are looking at me.'

I left it alone after that. Until the something I was feeling came out. 'I knew it' was all I could say to myself and then I heard it. Most of it. 'Resentment' was the only word that I really heard and as I heard it, I untwined my legs from them and sat straight up. I moved myself to the end of the couch and changed my point of view to the neighbors house I could see through the window. They kept talking and when I sensed a chance to say something, I did.

'I just want to go home now. I have been here all of 15 minutes and I just want to go home.'

There was a part of me that wanted them to say no, please don't go but at the same time I wanted to just jump in the car and drive off. My bags were still in it after all. I sat for sometime and ended up just needing time to catch my breath and be quiet. I took that time. Pretty much through dinner that was two hours later. After dinner, I reopened a little but only a little. A movie was on, my head as far away from them on the couch as possible and eyes glued to the set. A wonderful evening. Really...

Sleep was normal, I guess. I was so sleepy and out of it that I laid my head down and went into dreamland. Pretty much instantly. In hopes that the morning would be so very different. Take it from me, don't ever try that. The 'hope' thing because you are only setting yourself up for disaster.

7:55 the next morning, I was opening my eyes. I couldn't sleep anymore. The next three hours are going to be the most bizarre 3 hours of my life in recent weeks. The couple snuggle started us off. Sunday morning in bed and relaxing. Nothing could be better. All this followed by a simple request by them. Of course. I want to be close to them, after all.

Time for breakfast. In the kitchen, I pour myself a bowl of cereal and knowing that they enjoy the porch, I make my way out there inviting them in my simple movements. There is a bench and a chair. I sit on the bench, they on the chair. Ok, if never before, now something is wrong. I did my best to make them talk but it was a no-go. At that moment at least.

'What?' they ask.

I just stare wanting so badly to say that I knew something was wrong and desperate for them to just talk about it. Eventually, we made our way in doors where each of us took a different position, I on the couch and they in the kitchen to make themselves breakfast. A short time later, they were next to me asking me if I would like some of their cooking. After one bite, I declined the offer for more. Instead, I sat and made an attempt to get close to them hoping that what I already knew might be wrong.

It wasn't.

After a few words over the next few minutes, I was finally able to get the real conversation from their lips. Not anything I wanted to hear but I knew it was there. In this time, much like the night before, I moved myself to the end of the couch and listened as they said their piece. Interjecting with only a comment or question every once and a while.

Eventually, after I felt as if nothing else could be said, I looked them in the face while my insides began to crumble.

'Ok, well, I think I am going to go home now.'

The last thing that I wanted to do was spend another moment there. In this place that I, only a day before, thought would be so great to be in for the next few days. I tried my best to keep the emotions at bay and repeat that I would be leaving.

'You won't even stay and hang out today?'

With what felt like fire in my eyes and pain in my heart I said with certainty 'No'

I gathered my belongings, piled them by the front door and did a last check of the place.

'Can I help you with your things?'

'No'

'Can I at least give you a hug?'

Taking another look at them and still trying to keep the tears at bay, though having slightly less success this time, I said 'No. I don't think so.'

I picked up my bags, almost tripping under the weight of them and made my way to the car. Pulling open the doors, I threw the bags inside in no special order. I just needed them to get in there as quick as possible. Finally, I made my way to the drivers side, climbed in, started the car and began to pull away. For some reason, I raised my hand to the house where they were standing at the door watching me leave, gave it a slight wave and pressed on the gas moving up the street. My hands were shaking and the tears were welling up ready to pour out in buckets. 'Just get home' is all I could say over and over with some of me hoping that they would follow and beg me for a reconciliation. It never happened.

'I am sorry... I hope you are ok'

'Don't bother..'

'I guess we are both know what real hurt is now. We are not meant. That is clear.'

'I feel badly about this weekend'

I am not going to do this over text. That was for sure and I didn't. The next conversation is a blur... A conversation that lasted a while.

After talking to people in my life who I trust with my feelings, I got many different possibilities of what could be happening, what might happen and what will happen.

Now I just wish a coin had three side so I can now flip a coin and see what will be..

If only it were that easy.

'I have been thinking about our last call..'

So? What does that mean? I think about things every day, all day and you decide you need to tell me that you have been thinking about our last call and that is supposed to do what to me? Hell if I know.

'I don't want to not speak to you again ever'

Really? Could have fooled me? Too late, as far as I am concerned. I have grown past this. I have grown past you.

'I'd like to be friends with you again'

And I repeat, I have grown past you.

'It would be nice to catch up with you'

Last I checked, I am in the same place I was when you left. Nice try but no go.

I am not sure, nor will I ever be, of the things that go through other peoples minds that might lead them to the way they spew the things they do from time to time. All I know, is that it has taken quite some time for me to get here and I will be damned if someone, who might very well have cruel intentions, is going to come along and set up a trap so to make me fall in and be wrapped up in them again.

Does this seem to be coming from an angry place?

It might be. I won't deny that for a second. I mean, when I think about it, I feel as if any anger that I have right now might be completely justified. Be it at myself or another party, it is completely and totally justified. I have spent the better part of two years in tears, frustration, sadness and confusion. I have also spent the better part of two years working on myself in an attempt to get to this point. Low and behold, here I am. GOAL! To think about the work that I have put into crawling through the mud in order to get to the other side, I know that being here is such a reward and one that I will not let go of easily, if at all.

I am amazed how in one second (or what seems like one), someone could see the change, the hard work or the new (not going to let you get over on me and I am in control) person I have become and attempt to stomp on it....

....or maybe...they're not.

There is a tickle in my belly. You know, the one that you get when something just isn't quite sitting right or the one you get when you want to believe something when the other is all that you see? I want to believe that this isn't true but I can't. I know the situation I was in for some time. I know the person I was with while there and I know the person who left two years ago.

Does that mean that I know the person today??

To think, for a second, that I know the ins and outs of me as a whole, would be the biggest joke I ever made. I have no idea. I was recently asked, 'Why do you want to be alone right now?'. To which I answered, 'I need to be with me at the moment. I need to figure me out because I couldn't think about being with someone else without first being with me.'

Of course there was the followup, 'You don't know you? You don't know what you like and don't like?' I was a little taken aback by that but when I gave it some thought, I realized that maybe I don't know all those things. Maybe I don't know even half of those things and that is what I am spending my time doing at the moment. Unfortunately, it does come with it's lonely moments.

Sometimes many but that is where the pep talks come in REAL handy.

'Next to the presidency, teaching is, by far, the hardest job there is.' is what I found my self saying in talking to my father after another day with my summer students. There is nothing like teaching. I don't know what it is like to be a mother but a teacher comes damn close and to have many at the same time raises the intensity by 10. When you are a mother/parent in a family, you have a routine. A way. You know yourself and everyone and thing you are responsible for. I mean, I did come from a family after all.

Now imagine having 20 kids. 20 routines. 20 ways. 20 different responsibilities with 20 different needs that you need to have follow one way to teach one thing.

Exactly. Teaching is hard.

In the days that I have with my students, as I send them home exhausted, they, no doubt leave me exhausted. Questions after questions. Complaints after complaints and so on. All of this that I have to take care of during the lesson I am attempting to give them to make sure that I teach them something considering that is what I am there for, no? At these moments, I worry that they don't care or that they aren't getting it. I worry that I may not be teaching them correctly or that I am not cut out for said job. I worry but I can't show the kids that. I just need to keep plugging along in hopes that something is sinking in. Again, there is that motherhood/teaching thing again. All you can do is hope.

With all of this happening, it brings me back to my time in their position. When I was the student and teachers were attempting to fill my head with the things I was going to need for my life. I am sure that I gave them the look, many times, that nothing was sinking. I was not the best student as I struggled in many areas. Most teachers looked over this, however, as I move into new positions in my life, I think back and remember the few teachers who did take time and gave me the attention that I needed to get through. The ones who spent a little extra time with me and helped with the lessons so I can understand what I needed. That has never left me. I still carry that with me to this day. I had a teacher who helped with a subject that wasn't even hers. Just because she wanted see me succeed. I did. I remember it to this day. It has stayed with me. Nearly 20 years later. I often wish I could find her just to thank her for what she did. I am sure she has no idea. The same as my high school help. I wouldn't have made it through my high school career with out a certain teacher. She, as well, I wish I could find and I am sure has no idea. I think about her still as I thank her for getting me through. Perhaps for giving me the courage for getting myself through.

Recently, as I sat with one of my students and looked through their work. We were in the middle of editing work for a final show. As my student was showing me their images, I saw everyone else in their images and then I saw them in an image. I pointed this out to them in earnest because they needed to know. Though the work, overall, was good.

I told them that I wanted them to look for similarities in the rest of their images like the one we found. Like what we saw in them.

I talked to someone about that today and they told me that I gave them a gift.

I couldn't believe it when I heard it. How is something like that even possible? How could I come remotely close to doing what someone else did for me in my life? Not possible. I went over the situation and still couldn't believe it. They are young and the reaction that I got from them as I explained my thoughts would not be something one would think was anything of understanding.

But then it hit me. I am sure, wait, I know that as my teachers attempted to give me lessons and the such, the look that I gave them was something less than understanding at the time but here I am some years later writing about how much I remember it. Writing about how I could have possibly done the same for someone else. Am I sure that I did? No. Possibly not, in fact but for now, it is nice to think so.

Teaching is hard but the reward is so worth the work.

I have spent the better part of the past few days in tears and had some moments spent in anger as I thought about how much I was (or thought I was) past this stage. I guess I had a relapse. For whatever reason, I don't know. I suppose it could be the intense amount of stress I am under at the moment as I attempt to embark on the journey of 'lead' instructor of a program I am supposed to know something about or the on going drama I have with what used to be the closest relationships I had in my life, etc, etc. Whatever it may be, it all came to a head at the end of this last week and my mind couldn't handle it and therefore it shot out of my body in the form of tears (some yelling and periodic punching at appropriate moments, as well).

It has been mentioned to me recently that I have finally begun to feel. Whatever that means, although maybe they have a point. Since my life has been chaotic for some time now, something seems different. Something has happened that, for me, hasn't happened before.

I felt.

In a recent conversation with a former very close individual in my life, though basic and not long at all, it was full of emotion for me. As the words fell from their mouth and entered my ears, they shot through my body in such a way that I felt them. I felt them in such a way that I never felt before. My relationship with this person has been going through this change for a while but for the first time, I felt it. There is no other way to describe it. My heart broke as the words shot through me. It wasn't anything mean, malicious or hurtful but I heard it for the first time since our relationship ended. I didn't try to either. I suppose it is just the natural course of things or perhaps it is the 'work' I have been doing. I don't know.

What I do know is when you finally feel your heart break, you FEEL it and it doesn't feel good.

One would think by now a broken heart would heal but the pain is worse than ever as I finally start to feel.

I had a dream and you were in it. Lately, I can't get you out of my mind and I know why. I wish I didn't. I miss you tremendously but I know that things could never, ever be as they were. I know that I have said it before but I will say it again, I screwed up. I damaged a good thing. I tore through my side of the street and all because I couldn't open my mouth and simply tell you that I was scared. That I didn't know what to do, where I was or how to make things happen.

Again, I have said it before and I will forever say it again, I am truly and forever sorry.

I want you to be happy for now and forever. Not for a second do I want you to be sad and goodness knows I put you through enough of that for a time.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you and I know why.

I don't know why.

Could it be because I screwed up so bad and I want a do over? Could it be because I can't seem to move from my comfort zone? Could it be ....

Could it be the guilt that I carry with me daily and this is my punishment? I don't know. All I know is that I miss you. I don't miss the flowers. I don't miss the gifts, the food, the trips, the walks, the talks. I miss you. You. I hate not having you and I can't seem to figure out why. These days seem to be the hardest and I can't get you out of my head. I think of ways to talk to you. To communicate with with you and know that you are still there and perhaps remind you that I am still here (in hopes that you think of me. Selfish and stupid, I know. I just don't want to feel any more alone, I guess)

I wonder, constantly, if you think of me as I am reminded of you in this place we used to share. This place that was bought with so much excitement and promise and ended with so much sadness and anger. I sit here now after time has past realizing that I can't be in this place with out seeing you and us. I tried to move you out but it is impossible. Truly impossible. No matter how many pieces I pack up and store, I can't seem to pack us up. We are every where here. More importantly, we are in me and that I can't seem to move.

It doesn't matter, either. Any time of day. I think of what would be and where we would be. All this time has passed and that still holds with me. I see you walking in the door but it never happens. I feel you holding me exactly where you used when I needed it but you don't because your not there. I see you smiling at me when I need it most but you aren't and I can't ask for it because it never comes. I hear you talking to me in just the special way I know but well..

If this is punishment, I take it and it hurts. My heart hurts more than I could ever tell you. More than I could ever express to anyone, anywhere at anytime. I could only EVER take blame and try to clean up my side of the street and I can't believe I ever screwed up one of the best things I ever had in my life and I am paying the price ten fold. Forgiveness? I don't know the meaning. What I do know is that I had something so good and I know that we both had our faults but all I know, for me is that for a moment, some very, very, VERY stupid moments

I was speechless.

Post

If I lined up the same, brown size pieces of card board along a wall and imagined that to be everyone walking the earth, the world would become boring pretty much instantly. The reason it doesn't or, rather the reason I see it doesn't, is because of our stories. Our pasts. Our baggage.

Traumatic

There is not a single person who can say that they grew up in a fairy land of bunnies and sunflowers. Roses and sunshine. It is a nice thought but completely impossible. Not in the world we live in. No guarantee when it will happen but somewhere along the line there will be struggle. There will be pain, frustration, sadness and the such. I may seem bitter but it is the truth. Let's move on. This does not mean, by any stretch, that it is the same magnitude for everyone. It is experienced on different levels and in different ways. No one can ever tell when, where or why. It is a total crap shoot.

Stress

I have spent a good portion of my life apologizing. At this point, I have come to realize, it seems as if it has been for simply being here. Over the last two years since I have been shown my personal bottom, I have tried to work on figuring out who I am. That, at times, seemed to be more of a struggle than it was worth. I have wanted to give up so many times. The tears just haven't been worth the reward that I have not been able to see considering my world has been clouded with nothing but the nonsense that surrounds me daily. That, I have come to find out, is mostly by choice.

Regardless, back to my apologizing. Recently, I found myself mid conversation with someone after he asked me if he could buy me a drink. I politely declined but figured conversation was conversation. In time, I learned a lot about him. He was (er' is) a United States Marine, a golf pro and clearly, a drunk. However, he made one statement to me that not too long in my past I would have allowed myself to think he was 'better' than me or that I was, whatever. He mentioned that he suffers from post traumatic stress because he served on the front lines and seen a lot of stuff. He said 'I have been through a lot'. Stressing 'a lot'. For a moment, I almost I said 'wow' and then I cut him off. I touched him lightly on the arm, looked him in the eye and said:

'We have both been through a lot.'

I stressed 'a lot'.

Mine is mine and yours is yours.

'Your going to catch a cold from the ice inside your soul' - Christina Perri

It's been two years. Two years since you walked in the door as I watched the screen move. Two years since you sat on the couch, asked (actually more like told) and I begged for something else.

Two years since I wore your jacket. Two years since I couldn't look you in the eyes. Much the same way I couldn't the moment you asked another question.

It has been two years since my heart was stomped into a million pieces.

It has been two years, actually more, since I stomped your heart into a million pieces.

You were me and I was you. We were us and for me, I killed it. I review it constantly. Everything I did, I thought and the justifications I gave every decision. How could I hurt you so bad? How could I go out of my way to make sure that I hurt you? To make sure that I let you know that you weren't perfect? When, really, I should have taken it out in a different area. Not on you. You were just being you and even if that meant the end to us, never should I have taken my anger out on you. I go over it all. All the damn time.

I am a bad person. It was suggested to me that I forgive myself. That I must forgive myself for the decisions I made while with you.

I can't.

How can I forgive myself for something that I went out of my way to do, for the most part? I might as well have taken a knife and twisted it in your heart. Over and over and over. It pained me to look at you knowing the my mistakes. I knew it wouldn't last. I knew it would all blow up eventually. All of my relationships do. I still see you. I see you as the you in my life. As the you that I knew. However, in the midst of all of this, I am trying to forget it all. The you that I knew. The you and me and the life that I had once. I am so very sorry. SO very sorry for everything. For the sadness and pain...for this.

Will I find a 'you' again? I don't know. Will I find a 'you' for me? I don't know that either.

All I know is it has been two years and the pillow is no longer working but I suppose that is my personal punishment.

I fear myself.

Lately, as the weeks go by, I seem to be learning more and more about me. Who I am at the core. The more that I do this, the more I want to stop. The more I learn that I am afraid of me. Where I came from, where I am at and where I could possibly take myself. The crazy thing being that I see myself doing amazing things. Taking my talents and abilities to new heights but I can't seem to DO it. All because I fear my potential.

I had a crazy childhood. With that said (again), I did have moments where I was encouraged, where I was taught and made positive. I did have those people who wanted me to succeed. Those who saw that I could take on something big and be awesome at it. Often, I think about those moments. As I do, I can remember just how I felt and just what I was thinking. I can even remember how the smile felt as it grew. I could sit back and continue to whine (although I hate whiners with a passion) and focus on all the negative I had growing up but this is where that has gotten me. Here. Right here with my fingers furiously running over this keyboard as questions spin around my mind about my life. Words are pouring out as I attempt to make sense of it all. Regardless, I still fear me.

I don't know if one can call this a phobia. Like a fear of heights, spiders (eeeek!), dogs or anything. Something that with some practice, perhaps, one could over come. Could I possibly have a phobia of myself? Is that what a fear is?

I don't know.

Lately, I have been trying to learn from my mistakes. I have been trying to look at my past and do the opposite of what hasn't worked for me. So far, eh, so good (?). What I do know is that I could give myself all the pep talks in the world, I could listen to all the positive messages sent to me daily and I could read affirmations all the damn time but NONE of that has brought me where I need to be. Where I want to be. In a state of me. Fearless me.

More than anything, this is annoying. It is holding me back from where I need to be in my life. Right now. Now, I know that need is different for everyone. When I say it, it is where I need to be for me. Where I want to be. Why then is it SO difficult for me to get there?

Am I falling into the world of excuses? Am I using the excuse that I have so many excuses so I can't do anything? Am I really allowing the BS to hold me back? Really? REALLY ON THAT ONE?

STOP. Just stop it!

I can't.

I am really scared of what might happen or what won't.

This morning, I was woken up by the cutest set of eyes staring at me. Immediately, I bounced out of the dream I was in the middle of and smiled back at the round face smiling at me.

One of the best ways to wake up these days.

At the same time, as the day has progressed, the frames of the dream I was in the middle of have been running through my head. At first, I kept thinking how strange the dream seemed to be. Then I thought some more about it and the more I scanned, the more I realized what was happening. It was my life. My thoughts. Fears. Desires. Confusion and the such. While in the dream, I felt as if I was being pulled in every direction and I couldn't decide. It was as if each angle was saying 'This way. You want this' and at those moments another option would rear it's head and I would be convinced to stare in that direction. I was woken up just as I was seeing what I keep thinking is the life I have (or supposed to have) left behind. I felt myself walking in so many directions. Trying to be so many things to both myself and other people.

What am I to take from this? Is it just supposed to be a visual representation of all the crap running through my head on a daily basis?

As of yet, this is where it has left me. Alone.

I feel like a fly traveling around a ribbon of fly paper trying to stick to some part of it but not having the connection when I attempt to land anywhere. Part of me is sad that I can't seem to land but there is still a part of me happy that I have the opportunity to work on finding that connection. The connection with what, I have no idea. A person. A job. An idea, even.

Insert confusion here.

There it is again. That passion thing came up and again I fail to understand. What is that and why does it seem to keep entering my life? I don't feel passion. I don't see passion nor do I make it. So why then do people keep saying it to me?

Frustrating. To say the least.

For most of the time I had, it was basic, weekly nonsense. How this? Why that and the such. Then I found myself sitting up, throwing myself into what seemed like voluntary convulsions and expressing how it isn't the same for me anymore. The follow up being, why. Of course.

I miss the days with the excitement. The joy of wanting to know what is going to come next and how to get there. I miss the days of realizing what I am capable of and capturing it in the only way that I know how. Now I can only wonder where those days went feeling as if they ended so abruptly. I am lost and I want it back. The memories of the all nighters, the excitement of the next idea and the amazement of my thoughts on paper dance in my head constantly. I struggle to find that person again and turn them in to something I am 'supposed' to do with it. I can't seem to do it. I can't seem to be who I am 'supposed' to be. Who or more importantly, what is that? I thought I am supposed to be me. No? At least that is what I have been made to believe. That or my second grade teacher was lying to me..

I lost the inner me. The person that I know I am. The artist.

I have lost all interest though I know I haven't lost the truth. It is still in me but I cannot seem to uncover the 'supposed to's' and the 'need for survival' to build the artist and blow it into what it is supposed to be. I don't even want to touch it anymore. The thought of grabbing my equipment and capturing what I see is nothing more than a pain to me. The crazy thing is that I see myself doing it. I see myself getting excited. Getting inspired and making work that, if no one else sees, I see and that is more important than anything. I miss those thoughts. I miss those days. I miss that person.

Never did I think I would be looking for them at this point in my life. Never. Perhaps that is why I feel so heavy. The artist is in me but the pile of shit on them is incredibly heavy. Too many 'cant's', 'don'ts' and 'have to's' have been thrown down. For some silly reason, it has blocked me. The real me and only because I have allowed it to happen.

Can I call in a missing artist report?

I miss the artist. I miss me.

I try not to have regrets in my life. I try but I do.

If I could take it all back, I would. In a second. From the beginning, I hurt one of the most important people I ever had in my life and simply because I didn't speak up at the right moment. I can't help but burn with pain at the thought. To think about what I put them through, what I did to them and how much I wanted to hurt them makes me sad and angry with myself. I wish that I could change it all. I wish that I could sit down in front of them, spill it and tell them just how sorry I am for all the pain, frustration and hurt that I caused to them.

As I said to them recently, I can only ever speak for myself and I know what I did and how much pain I caused. I am so very sorry. I look back now and I know why I did it and what I need to change so never to do it again but I didn't know that then and the destruction I left in the wake is more than I could imagine myself capable of doing. Clearly, it is possible.

I am so very sorry.

As I sat in the drivers seat, wiping the tears with my fingers, I listened to the voice at the other end of the phone and felt their pain. Finally, after all this time, I heard it and I felt it. I wanted nothing else but to let them know just how sorry I am as our time together flashed through my mind. I was told that they needed to say all of it to me for quite some time and they are happy they finally could. That they finally felt as if they could open up to me about all that has been happening in the last few years. In those moments, as my tears fell into my lap, I felt theirs.

I am so very sorry.

After so much time, in a tiny way, we were each other again. We were the two of us in the relationship we had. The two of us that only we know. Knew. That is how it is. There are those moments, words, feelings and stares that only the two people together in a relationship know. Will ever know and that is what I felt as the call progressed. It was there again and I felt it. I believe that they felt it too. I hope they did.

I am so very sorry.

To think of everything that I put them through, breaks my heart. As I attempt to clean up my side of the street and understand why I didn't speak up when I should have, I wish I could hold their hand, feel them and hug them. I wish I could look in their eyes and have them speak the words I have wanted to say. I wish I could ask for their forgiveness.

I did my part, too.

We need to heal. Time needs to pass. We must put our signatures on paper and close this chapter in order to heal from the pain caused. If ever anything is to come from this remains to be seen. I hope for nothing except that they are happy. I feel as if I have taken any and everything I could from them and that makes me sick to my stomach. It was love from beginning for me. No matter how it played out. I love them more than I can ever express and just because we can't make it work doesn't change that for me. Ever. I want to turn away and know that they are happy. I don't want to ask for this, that and the other thing. That is not what this comes down to for me. Happy. That is all I want.

Through it all, people have their opinions, judgements and thoughts but at the end of the day (as with anyone) it is us. From the moment we met, they were good people. At the core. Have been and always will be. I will never think different. Ever.

'I miss you and I love you. I won't ever stop'

Both.

Sway

In a moment, I witnessed as their bodies met and they held each other in the way each knew how.

I caught it just out of the corner and brought the rest to take it in completely.

In a moment, time slowed.

It was as if I became a voyeur into their lives knowing nothing but the obvious.

In a moment, I was involved. My mind moved along with them.

They swayed to, fro and the such. Never skipping a step or missing an innocent beat.

In a moment, the smiles grew. Theirs and mine.

I couldn't help but forget about any sort of troubles and concerns anywhere, let alone my world.

In a moment. If only for a moment.

A beautiful and perfect moment.

Holy Fucking Shit Bitch

I don't get it. I know I have a lot to work on but I just don't get it. If I were to sit down and write a list of each and every thing either about myself or about everything else that I don't get, it would be a mile (perhaps more) long. What is that? Why am I at this age and so damn confused? You would think that I would have some things figured out. Solid. Done.

I figure this might be a good a spot as any to try to, if nothing else, get the ball rolling. So let's see..

1: How the hell did I end up here? Now I know that might seem like a dumb question with an obvious answer, however, it's more like 'here' as in this crappy, financially screwed, dependent (etc) space. I hate it. Every last bit of it. There was a time that I thought I had it figured out. I had the perfect situation and I was set for life. Boy was I wrong. I couldn't have been more off the mark.

2: What is up with all these regrets? I like to think I try. I try to learn from my mistakes, I try to say the right thing, do the right thing and I try to be with the right people but so far I must have made some screwy choices because I can't help but have regrets. I have been attempting to choose not to have regrets in my life but I seem to fall right back into having them. I know the most important regrets that I have and when I think about them, they stir up such a state of anger that I want to hit something or cry for the next day and a half.

3: Where were these lessons when I needed them most and why am I standing alone here? Why is it that at the most vulnerable state I am in at this point of my life, do I feel as if I am standing in the middle of an open arena watching my world pass me by with no direction or tools to move on? Attempting at some moments to tap a shoulder, ask a question or just jump right into the crowd but not able to move my legs. Trying to understand where I came from, what I did, the choices I made and where I am supposed to be going, alone. At the same time, I am confused because new relationships are forming and practically begging to help me but I can do nothing but keep them at bay simply because, I don't understand.

4: What are these walls and where is my sledgehammer? I hate the feeling when I walk to my car and thinking I unlocked the door, move to pull the handle only to have it snap out of my hand as I am jerked into the door as a result of my hastiness. Emotionally, that is how I feel daily. Except these walls are a lot bigger and a lot harder. No wonder I have this bruise on my chin.. Regardless, no matter how hard I try or how much I want it, I cannot seem to break them down or through them. What is it going to take? A bulldozer?

5: How do I live with a condition I cannot get rid of and how do I release the fear? Here I am, at a loss again. I live in a state of fear. For many reasons but this one being the biggest. Where? When? How? Will someone be there to catch me? I like to hope all is under control but no one really knows that. Instead, I put my chances in to someone who throws solutions at me in hopes that something will stick because they don't even know what is going on. To say that is scary would be an understatement, however, it is a billion times better to have then to not have. At least for how ever much longer I have the ability to have someone who will stay with me and work to make sure I am healthy and happy. Until it is under control and in other areas make me emotionally strong enough to stand on my own with it all it seems like I will be here. In this state.

Well, these are pretty much the top five. Maybe by writing them out I will understand them better and they might fix themselves. Who knows. What I do know is that I have this and for me this is the best therapy.

Ever.

Now if I could just give a pop quiz.

pas·sion

n.

1. A powerful emotion, such as love, joy, hatred, or anger.

2.

a. Ardent love.

b. Strong sexual desire;

lust.

c. The object of such love or desire.

3.

a. Boundless enthusiasm: His skills as a player don't quite match his passion for the game.

b. The object of such enthusiasm: Soccer is her passion.

4. An abandoned display of emotion, especially of anger: He's been known to fly into a passion without warning.

5. Passion

a. The sufferings of Jesus in the period following the Last Supper and including the Crucifixion, as related in the New Testament.

b. A narrative, musical setting, or pictorial representation of Jesus's sufferings.

6. Archaic Martyrdom.

7. Archaic Passivity.

As I worked the other night, equipment in hand, a woman approached me, struck up a conversation and ended it expressing how much she enjoyed finding someone who stepped out and is chasing their passion. Though she has no idea, she walked away from me as the word 'Passion' bounced around my head. It is a word I have been hearing a lot with regards to my life lately and just as the word 'Courage' did to me, I am lost.

In recent months, it has been suggested to me that one of the biggest struggles I am having in my life and perhaps the reason for the many road blocks is my inability for intimacy. Which as I understand it can and will only lead to passion. Real passion. If I have an intimacy problem, how is it possible I can be remotely passionate when it comes to my work. Wouldn't I need to explode with excitement? With joy? With something other than this thing weighing my hand down? Is it possible someone is seeing something I can't and don't possibly feel? How can something be seen and not (even a little bit) felt?

At one point, I thought of passion as only this state that happens between two people who can't ever get enough of one another. Now it is supposed to wrap around this thing I do on a daily basis? This thing that has nothing to do with anyone except myself? Passionate about my life? What is that?

If you haven't already gathered, I am confused. That is the only thing that I know for sure.

Is it possible that this is a word that is thrown around too much? Passion, eh??

Intimacy. Another term I struggle with but yet seem to understand my struggle with a bit more. I know I can't get close to anyone. I know why I can't get close to anyone. I know all of it and one would think that by knowing, I would be able to change it but I can't. Logically, I understand. Emotionally, no go.

Fear? Hell yes. I heard last night, 'Fear is a state of mind' and though that may be true, it is a state I can't seem to run away from at this point. Maybe soon but not now. I look at it as a mother INCREDIBLY protective of her babies to help better explain when I need to tell people why I am this way. I still get the cross-eyed, confused look but unless you are inside me, inside my head, I don't know how to explain any better.

So, it seems to come full circle. I need to lose the fear to have the intimacy and I need to have the intimacy to have the passion. Perhaps, I could have the excitement and motivation of the passion to rid the myself of the fear and embrace the intimacy.

Either way, it's a circle and last I checked there are no easy entry points.