L is for love
L is for life
L is for lust
L is for learning
L is for laughter
L is for light
L is for longing
L is for the little things
L is for …
L is for love
L is for life
L is for lust
L is for learning
L is for laughter
L is for light
L is for longing
L is for the little things
L is for …
I write because I can and because I have to. It is my therapy. Often, I write impulsively, so that you only see a momentary glimpse into my internal landscapes. I am happy with the people who are currently in my life. I am worth way more than I allow myself to be and I am grateful that they see it too. They love every inch of me. They accept every part of baggage on my back and in my soul. And I love them just the way they are. Flaws and all. That is how it should be. That is what gives me the strength to let go of old weight on my shoulders. I am happy that I am still here… As I mentioned before, I don’t take rejection very well. And I take it even worse when it comes from someone I adore. It almost ended badly. But, I am still here. Strong. Confident. With my ups and downs. The best version of me yet.
Written impulsively too.
I was most productive and creative while you walked next to me on my journey. You were that whisper that inspired me, the dream that haunted me. You were the determination that kept me going. And when you decided it was best for us to be apart, you became the essence of every poem I ever wrote. Your memory is fading and your voice is silent. My misery is less tormenting and my emotions less pronounced. Your soul is not entwined with mine anymore. Gone is my productive and creative streak.
It’s too easy for me to cling to people who make me happy. This also makes it easy for me to doubt every little thing they do or don’t do, when I am overly tired or not in a good mood. (Like today.) Questions like: why? How? arise and there is no answer. Simply because some things happen without a reason. And that is perfectly fine or it should be. That, of course, clashes with my mantra of “everything happens for a reason”. It’s self-sabotaging and I know it. Logically, I know it. But I can’t prevent it. I can’t stop it from happening.
Is it a trust issue? Or is it a self-confidence issue? A mix of both? There are rare moments when I can see myself through the eyes of an other. During those moments I see a different person. Someone loveable.
I am a simple woman. Make me laugh and tell me how awesome I am and you will have a piece of my heart. But only if it happened at the right moment. The right moment being when I am in a free and serene headspace.
Yes, I think too much for my own good. And I doubt everything nice that happens to me, because in my life, happiness always came at a price. I am scared that my happiness is fake, and that if the people inspiring it are seeing me for who I am, they will turn their backs on me and take the happiness with them when they are leaving. Please don’t leave.
After all, I am leading a good life. Not always conventional, but a good life nonetheless. And I am not scared to ruin my own life; I am scared to make other people’s life a burden – as long as I am a daily part of it. I am demanding. Often, I am not afraid to ask for the things that fulfill my demands.
All in all, I am a pretty amazing woman. I am humourous, sensual, (I like to think that I am) intelligent enough to hold a conversation. I am kind and grateful, and trying to please those around me (without neglecting my own self). But I am also clingy and possessive and I don’t trust easily. I am not jealous. But I don’t deserve love, and I wonder why someone would spend time with me. It’s deeply rooted in my childhood. Things were broken inside of me and they cannot be fixed. Those damages overshadow the logical and they ruin everything good.
I am tired today. I couldn’t sleep. And these thoughts needed an outlet. I am unapologetic. And I know that I am overwhelming – in a bad way. But I am also honest about who I am and how I feel. No one is forced to read my words. But if you did read this far, I thank you. Some call this writing stream of consciousness. Today I call it my mind’s vomit.
Have a great day. Thank you for your eyes and ears.
I woke up in you
Although I was never really asleep.
I found a happy place
Thanks to us – thanks to you.
Life’s a bitch, but it’s going to be okay.
My daughter had a nightmare about me dying. I tried to comfort her as best as I could, but there was a thought I couldn’t shake. I will die. Some day I will. And I cannot change it. And when she was finally asleep again, i felt guilty. So many times i thought about dying. I thought about ending my life. No – I will not kill myself, no need to worry. But I have these thoughts and I am aware that those are thoughts normal people don’t have. I cannot save my children from all the hurt that the world will inflict on them. It’s impossible. But I can try and not add to it. It pains me when my seven year old is bullied. It hurts that she didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t want to make me sad. It pains me when she tells me that she will come to me with everything that bothers her but that I can also come to her with the things that bother me.
Parenting is the best thing I do. It’s one of the few things I am sure of. But there is so much wrong with me that I worry that I will never be the parent they need or deserve. The world is crazy. And I am too.
And I am scared to share. I used to share a lot. But back then, people from my day to day life didn’t read anything I shared. And now I allowed some people in. And I feel ashamed and frightened to share who I really am. I hate this. And I want to scream “help”, but I can’t, and to be fair, I wouldn’t listen to anyone anyway. I need a hug from someone who isn’t a child. Who knew that being married also meant being lonely and longing for human connection.
Easy. Nothing is ever easy for Connor, and nothing will ever be. Easy is wrong. Or so it seems. And so, Connor continues to live his life the way he is used to do it. He goes about his usual routines. He goes to counseling twice a week. He goes to work every day. He takes his medication daily at the same time. He arranges his food by colour, and his socks too. He counts steps from one distance to the next, and he counts the minutes until Thomas will be back sitting on his couch. As much as his head wants to deny it, his heart knows that Thomas is the only one he will ever let in. Thomas is the only one who makes him feel safe when he is breaching his personal space. He doesn’t need to feel embarrassed or ashamed in front of Thomas. Never. Because Thomas always seems to understand.
Something clicked recently. And the realisation that they fit profoundly is etched into Connor’s mind now. And this makes Connor’s thoughts a little less dark and a little lighter. It is a phase and he knows it. But he also knows that he needs to savour it. He needs to savour it or it will be over too soon. Right now, Connor’s mind is light as a feather. Soon it will be dark as a cloud again, but he chooses not to think about it. Running on his treadmill, his black curls bounce up and down with every step he makes. His blue eyes are focused on the filing of his music collection, and in his mind he is counting. He is counting the steps he makes. He is counting his heartbeats. He is making the moment count. Connor runs and runs, but it doesn’t feel like running away for once. It is just exercise. Nothing more. Just exhausting his mind and his body. Easy. He slows down, rubbing his face with his towel, catching his breath. He feels a presence before he sees it. It makes him smile.
“What’s that?” Thomas enters Connor’s fitness room. He has leaned against the door jamb watching the shirtless young man. If he weren’t as tormented. If things were just a little easier. But they aren’t, and he learned to take what Connor is offering.
“Thirty-thousand-two-hundred-seventy-eight seconds since you last touched me.”
Thomas gulps. “You counted?”
Connor smiles. “No, I am not that mental. I did the maths,” he chuckles and reaches for a shirt that is folded in a neat square. Thomas puts his hand over Connor’s. “You are having a good day today.” Connor just nods at Thomas’s statement.
“I am a bird today. Not a cloud,” Connor mumbles. But Thomas understands. He most often does. Living a life between clouds and feathers can be a challenge for Connor and for everyone around him. But today, Connor isn’t afraid. And Thomas isn’t either, because today Connor is a feather and that is all that matters.
If someone touched or hugged me right this moment, I would turn into a heap of tears and cells. I would implode and burn from within until only dust and scattered thoughts would be left.
I am blind. I am too blind to see the struggle of others. Well… Not entirely. I see their battles, but I don’t see the severity of them. If I was a little less self-centred, I would see more of the world around me. As it is, I realized a year too late how bad a friend was really doing. I was too focused on myself and on the way I expected him to pull me out of the dark. But he was in even deeper than me and I didn’t see it.
Out of the dark into the dark.
I didn’t realize how much he was struggling. I had just scratched the surface when he pulled away. He had shared the bare minimum. I knew he was addicted to at least two things. I knew he was really not well. But I didn’t fight to be in his life when he pushed me out with all his might. Maybe our relationship was caustic from the beginning.
Two fragile minds becoming even more fragile because of what we shared.
I wish it had been different. Instead of breaking him even more, I could have helped him heal. But our relationship was based on a toxic behaviour. A pattern that repeated itself again and again. A circle. Of course there is more than this wrong pattern. There is more to the person I am and there is more to the person he is. But, we didn’t stand a chance. Our minds and our mental illnesses ruined every chance of a friendship. Quite sad, actually. But not irrevocably.
Ones views change over time… Mine too.
She consciously listened to music and was washed away with a wave of emotions. She swam against the current and – bereft of her last bit of breathing air, she gave in and drowned. She drowned in an ocean of music.
One day you will wake up and a wound that has always itched and that has always hurt – even if it was in a dull, almost imperceptible way, will have healed.
You will be surprised and it will be scary at first. You will try to get that feeling back – after all, it has been a part of you and your being for such a long time. But, let it go. You don’t need it anymore. And the hollow it left will be filled with something new. Something good.
This comes from a person who believed that wounds can be concealed but never healed. I woke up with a weight lifted off me. And I had the immediate desire to write it down. Because, if the hurt comes back (and it will be back full force), then I will have this to remind me that there are days when everything that weighs me down doesn’t seem to be as important anymore.
I’ll leave you on this rather content and serene note. I am going to make the beds now, then I’ll put my golden shoes on and spend my day at IKEA. (For me, IKEA is more stressful than working a double shift at the nursery).
Silver slivers of an other world
Golden echoes of a past long gone
It is as if the warming summer rain never ceased to coat our skins
It is as if the most important part of you lives inside my pulsing veins
Gray clouds repeating your whispered word
White lies, hidden in a new song
It is as if your home is in my mind
But my mind is lost and home is hard to find
Iridescent pictures of the end of an affair
I vividly remember the way you used to ask “Are you there?”
Silver slivers, fragments of our story
Golden echoes, mirror of a promise I intend to keep
Wrap your self around my soul
Consume me until
I will disintegrate in your smoldering embrace.
I feel your essence seeping in to my very core
Until I wrap my soul around your fragile mind.
I had an empty day.
Is that what is called normal? There was no rage, no overwhelming moments, no serenity… Nothing. Just emptiness. An emptiness that wasn’t challenging. I was without deep emotions.
Strange. Strange indeed. But not unwelcome.
The sun was shining. I did not make my beds. I read, listened to music, played with the kids, took a bath… Mundane. And that was okay.
Embers of memories are glowing in the dark. I want them to burn again. I want them to go out. I want to give up, and I want to keep going. If we only knew. Embers of memories are burning me from within. Sometimes, the heat is comforting; other times, it is destroying me from just underneath my skin. I miss who I didn’t have; dream of opportunities we never dared to take. I am strong enough to fight. I know that I am your missing light. And yet… To have you and to hold you. To let these embers of memories become blazing flames again…
My heart is open
My arms are open
I will be here to share your pain
I will be here to stand in the rain
My heart is just a fraction broken
My secrets still unspoken
I will be here to see your soul
I will be here to make you whole
My heart is open
My heart is hopin’
I will be here to see the burning desire
I will be here to be your fire
My heart is just a fraction broken
My soul has awoken
I will be here to stop you from leaving
I will be here to make you start breathing
My heart is still open
My love will never stop lovin’.
As long as there is cum in my balls and a mind in my brain I will never forget you.
I wrote about this one before but I can’t find it anywhere so I will write it down again. This was said to me. Not written, but said. And I thought it was weirdly romantic. He laughed then, saying that it is our kind of romanticism, and he was right. In the meantime, this man is not a part of my life anymore. We knew the day would come but we tried to ignore it until it was there and he left. Which is okay and his proper right to do. But that sentence there, it keeps repeating in my mind. Over and over again. If it is true, then he will not forget me for a long time. I don’t want to be forgotten. Least of all by him. He who meant so much to me at one moment in time and who still does, who will always do.
When I shared this sentence with a friend, she was disgusted and thought it was very disrespectful. And I wondered if I had rose-tinted glasses on to be happy about these words. Now, a long time later, and these words still get to me and they are still disgusting to other people. For me, they are the ultimate declaration of love.
Funny how people see one and the same thing and feel so differently about it. Or maybe I am just weird. By the way, that same man said to me that he felt abject loneliness without me and that I was the only one who could fill the holes in his heart, in his mind and in his soul. Indeed, he is a writer… but come on… Those are amazing words to hear… Alas, love or an infatuation is not always enough. And I am not a romantic person anyway…
(written in August 2016 and still true)
Where do I start? This year has been the best and the worst in a long while. But how and why? Well… On the outside, everything went really well. In February, I started the best job I could ever wish for. I am very happy there. I celebrated my tenth wedding anniversary with my husband in August. We built a house together and moved the family into said house last weekend. I reconciled with family members who were mere distant memories. I got a raise at work and a trainee, despite the few hours I work. (26 instead of 40). My kids are doing more or less well. Financially, everything seems to work out too. We are not rich, but we can afford to take the kids to the movies and to the restaurant once in a while. I had to get a new car in April. It drives me from a to b, but it’s not my favourite…
On the outside, everything is looking up.
The inside though, my internal life is a mess. I suffered from a sever bout of depression this year. Worse than ever before, and for the first time, I asked for help. I couldn’t go on the way I was. Asking for help felt like failing, but it also felt like being in control of my damned emotions again. My behaviour was toxic. I cut my skin and pretended that I was marking myself to remember things. I was in complete denial of my own needs and suffered willingly for someone else’s good. For a while, I took meds – I am not taking them right now, and they helped, but I also know that I need to get on without the chemical help. I was overwhelmed with the fast success and I felt inapt and unprepared. For everything. Stepping out of one’s comfort zone is a scary thing. Emotionally, this year was very draining. From dealing with the past and worrying about the future, to coping with the present. I tend to assume and overthink. I often suppose and project, instead of knowing, and that’s what gets me every time. Add people to the mix who are sending mixed signals and are slipping through my fingers when all I want is to keep them close – let’s just say that it was the “coup de grâce”. The cherry on top.
My low self-esteem and the fact that I seldom allow myself to praise myself or be proud of an achievement makes life even harder for me. As it did this year. I guess, my ups and downs are palpable in my writing and in my poetry. Mostly the downs though, because I don’t need to write as much when I am okay. (Or even in a manic phase.) I scare people away with my moods. I am quite overwhelming at times.
I also made friends and lost friends this year. Acquaintances became friends. Daily parts of my life. I was mentioned in the acknowledgements of two different books and a song was written with me in mind. I saw some live music, not a lot, and I bought some of music, I always do – nothing new.
My favourite books this year were “You” and its sequel “Hidden Bodies” by Caroline Kepnes.
My favourite movie was “Paris 05:59 Théo & Hugo”.
My favourite musical release? I couldn’t tell. I simply don’t know since I didn’t listen to all that much different music this year. Though, Spotify lists the following as my most listened artists this year:
I read a lot and I wrote a lot, but I couldn’t reach the 400 poems I wrote last year. But I also drank and smoked too much, lol. Again, self-destructive behaviour is one of my patterns.
I loved a lot, and hated very few things, and no people. I stood up for myself and cowered behind bad excuses at times too. I cried more tears than I shed the entire decade before. I felt anxiety and excitement…
And at the end of it all, I am daring to let go of an idea that has been planted in my mind for too long now. I kept holding on for the wrong reasons and now, my mind and my soul have to reconcile and accept that my heart is saying goodbye. I am letting go.
I had a good year. Intense and emotional, but successful too.
To everyone I accepted in my world and didn’t push away – please stay.
To everyone I accepted in my world and who betrayed me – fuck off.
To everyone I accepted in my world and pushed out – I am sorry, but it had to be this way.
To everyone reading this – thank you.
I know my flaws and my qualities and they help me survive.
Thank you all for your support and friendship, have a happy new year.
(A lighter version of this was shared on Wattpad…)
Another sleepless night
And I wonder
Can you hear me in your thoughts
Can you see me in your dreams
Can you taste me on your tongue
Can you feel me on your skin
Can you smell me on your sheets
Do you wonder
During another sleepless night?
Our happy sails.
You are at the top
of my list.
were not ready
Imploded – exploded.
Too many lefts
That were never right
Too much of us
And the light shone too bright.
Now that we are gone
We are existing again
Now that we are apart
We can grow again
Now that this page is written
Our story is complete
Now that our hearts beat out of tune
We need to write new songs.
If I fall
I will rise
If I feel buried
I am actually planted
If I am in the dark
I am facing the light
I am your star
In broad daylight
I am your sun
If I am asleep
You are awake in my dreams
When I am cold
You are my heat.
Fallen angel –
We were caught.
Please don’t touch the sore spots on my soul. I will bleed you out of my system and I am not ready yet.
Shadows on my soul
Push the clouds away
Show me the light
And I will find my way
For one night, I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
For never. Forever.
For life; I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
If you look at me, please see me. If you see me for the person that I am, please love me.
If you listen to me, please hear me. If you hear my words, please understand them.
If you want me, don’t hold back. If you don’t hold back, I will be all yours.
This is actually no fiction. This is all me in my most vulnerable state. I am afraid to be invisible, invaluable, used…