He put his arm around my waist,
pulled me close,
and whispered the word ‘mine’.
I didn’t feel like an object,
I felt protected, loved.
Locked in his embrace,
I felt I was where I should be.
Unlike who I had been,
I let myself feel vulnerable.
I let him take control.
I let the strength of his embrace
assuage any fear I felt.
I just let him love me on his terms.
I curled into him,
and let everything else go.
Because, in that moment,
nothing else mattered.
People do strange things when they are under stress. In the worst case scenario, their judgement is clouded and their choices are made without the benefit of having time to weigh the pros and cons to be able to formulate an informed decision.
On the odd occasion, people have very good intentions but they have terrible execution. Although they may have a reasonable amount of time to assess a situation, their emotions cloud their abilities to think clearly and they make bad choices. Their objective becomes distorted and they lose sight of the most important part of the predicament with which they are faced. It is a simple human error and one that could be so easily avoided.
Conversation is the backbone of any relationship and honesty is the tissue that protects that backbone. With neither of those things, human affinities will never have the strength to stand on their own. There is much to be said for direct communication. And, even if the exchange of information is uncomfortable, it is a necessary tool to build a strong foundation of trust and understanding.
For the most part, people do mean well. There are moments when they lose themselves in trying desperately to find a solution without first understanding the entirety of the situation. Their concern impairs their objectivity and they believe that they are acting in the best way possible. But sometimes, they just need to take a moment to breathe – to step back and think to themselves “how would I want someone to react if I were in that situation?”. And just maybe that one small step backwards will take them leaps and bounds ahead of where they were.
It is no secret that I love words. I like to articulate my responses in a way that is concise without being too verbose, but I do like to phrase my answers in a meaningful way – especially if I am replying to a significantly valuable question. I want people to know I have truly ingested the words they have spoken and taken the time to formulate a well-constructed response.
But there are those less wordy than I, those who choose to avoid the commitment of a lengthy answer and spare any unwarranted emotion by responding with a simple, one-word comment. While that single word may convey the necessary feedback to the initial query, sometimes the person posing the question is left thinking that the responder cannot be bothered to take the time to formulate a proper retort.
Upon chatting with a friend, he told his tale of how he had fallen victim to the easy out of a one-word answer. He had received a rather detailed text and he simply wrote back “Sure”. After I had admonished him for his complete avoidance of all other words in the English language, we both had a good laugh.
He was incensed by his own lack of effort and every time he repeated the word ‘sure’, we laughed even more. After we had expelled all the laughter we could, obviously at his expense, he thought it would make a great idea for a blog post and asked if I would be able to write about it. I said the only thing I could think of – “sure”.
I am fortunate to have some truly great friends in my life who just get me. I never have to worry about saying the wrong thing or having a joke hang in the air like a deflating cartoon balloon. My sense of humor falls squarely on their ears and is met with an understanding laugh as opposed to the chirping of crickets in an otherwise silent room.
And the same can be said for their comprehension of the range of my emotional scale. I have never been afraid to cry in front of, or with, those same people. To me those tears are not a weakness but a genuine representation of my character and I admire that same quality in those with whom I choose to surround myself. In an ocean as big as this life, it is nice to find another fish from the same school of thought.
There is a great sense of comfort knowing that, when you are with the right people, there is no need to feel guarded. There is no reason to quell words or feelings because you sense they will be out of place. There is no second guessing when it comes to telling it like it is because those people expect and appreciate your honesty and your compassion.
With those same friends, I never feel embarrassed if I am not at my best. They know my good days and my bad days by the timber in my voice and they are just there, with no judgement and no unsolicited advice. There is only concern and a touching way to express that concern. Whether it is a solid embrace, a well-timed “I love you” or a simple touch of a hand to a shoulder, they seem to know the solution before I have had a chance to diagnose the problem.
Those friends, those souls who are so connected to my soul, never make me think twice about being myself. They cushion my fall. They wipe my tears. And they really do take up the biggest part of my heart.
You cried,
enduring pain for me,
loving me with never having met me
and I felt blessed.
You stood,
hands on your hips,
a whimsical smile on your face
and I felt anchored.
You embraced,
you wiped my tears,
you listened and never interrupted
and I felt understood.
You watched,
allowing me to make mistakes,
but always there to help me mend
and I felt empowered.
~
I cried
when you left me.
In a dream I saw you,
and watched you float.
You hovered,
our eyes met, you waved,
blew me a kiss
and fell into nothing but flowers.
We cleaned out my mom’s house over two years ago. It was months before she had passed away but it felt just as much about closing a chapter as her actual passing.
There were very few things we kept for various reasons but, of all the memorabilia I could have wanted to keep, her yellow long johns with daisies on them was the item I wanted the most. Sure, I still have her wedding ring and some other jewelry as well as a few small wood carvings of the birds we loved but this relic, this throwback to the 1970’s, was the thing that I held most dear out of all the items I could have kept.
Had you asked me at the time why it was that particular item that held my attention I don’t think I would have been able to articulate my reasoning. But now, as I sit on my couch wearing her long johns as I type this post, I get it.
This simple item of clothing has the ability to teleport me back to a time when life seemed perfect, when our family was happy and healthy and we just enjoyed spending time together. These long johns held tight to my mother’s skin as we skied up to Swan Lake and they cushioned me in my mom’s lap while I snuck a few sips of wine out of the wine-skin she carried around her neck.
This yellow cotton is the fabric that helped to weave the reflections of my childhood into the memories of my adulthood. It once clung to my mother as it now clings to me and there is great solace in its embrace.
When someone who can comfort you so much is taken from you, you cling to the things that have the ability to remind you of that person. You want to find every way possible to emphasize the joy you found in your shared moments. And even though I find that joy in an old pair of yellow long johns with daisies on it, that cloth helps me to overlook the things in my life that have no value and to focus on the things and the people who truly matter.
I have found love where I least expected to find it. It caught me off guard, rendered me helpless. I always thought I knew how true love would feel but this deep emotion is far greater than I anticipated.
I can stare at my new love without feeling the need to speak. I can touch my new love and feel the warmth being radiated. I was nervous to admit to myself that I had fallen hard, but I can’t fight a love like this.
I have no fear of being the crazy cat lady as I approach the impending new decade that lurks a few years around the corner. I will happily be the crazy crockpot lady. I had dinner cooking in this little gem last night as I busily chopped and prepared five more meals for my freezer. To say I am obsessed is an egregious choice of adjectives.
I do think that my circumstance could be much more dire than it currently is – not only have I found a love that shares my passion for food, but together we are helping people who can use a bit of a break.
When you find the right love, everything is a win-win.
In the wee, small hours of morning,
your concern makes my nerves fray.
Distance creates questions,
that hang in the air unanswered
facial expressions unable to be read,
worry unable to be alleviated.
If I could reach out,
touch your arm for the briefest second,
perhaps that contact would help.
It may ease my worry,
and just maybe it would let you know,
that you never have to face your fear alone.
There is an army behind you,
charging into battle with you,
always there, ready to fight.
My love,
I did not go gentle into that good night.
I lingered on the precipice,
holding tight to the memories of the warmth of my days.
My life played like a movie before my eyes,
and it was beautiful.
I couldn’t bear to leave you.
I raged against that white light and held fast to you.
I walk in your footsteps and hear all the words I should have been able to listen to,
words that should have fallen on my ears while you were in my arms.
I float on the words you speak to me, words you are unsure I hear.
I am still with you.
I am the air that dries your tears.
I am the breeze that tickles the wind chimes you love so much.
The sound of your laughter makes me feel alive again.
I did not go gentle into that good night.
I chose to stay with you.
***
I was recently rummaging through my writing desk when I came across a letter I had long since forgotten. It is not the typical style of prose I would choose to hang on to but it is a glaring reminder of how therapeutic it can be to exorcise a toxic friend from your life.
Toxic friendships start so innocently. The relationship begins to build on a foundation of trust and common interests, a bond is evident and the rules of the alliance seem to be clearly outlined and understood by both parties. Each participant silently vows to put the other’s well-being ahead of the general population and to always have the other friend’s back.
But, somewhere during one particular friendship of mine, the rules changed. My toxic friend began to show the obvious characteristics of being narcissistic and she no longer had a genuine investment in my feelings. She began to pollute my reality with her selfishness and her uncanny ability to focus solely on herself. Although the previous vows of our friendship still may have percolated in the back of her mind, she forged ahead only looking out for herself, completely negating any regard for my feelings.
Unfortunately, I have fallen victim to more than my fair share of toxic friends. I have created excuses for their behavior, forgiven them on many occasions for the negative effect they have had on my life, and the lives of others, and defended their antics ad nauseam. For the duration of those relationships my toxic friends broke all the fundamental and universal laws of friendship and yet I found it difficult to break the bond of our kinship.
I keep this letter, still, as a reminder of the journey I took to find my worth. This one solid shred of evidence is proof of the strength I possessed to finally walk away from a toxic friendship and put myself first. It is a letter, penned by a third-party, written to attack my character and accuse me of misrepresenting myself as a friend. Although this letter initially angered me because the author was completely ignorant regarding my history with this certain friend, I now look at the words and smile.
I was accused of being a bad friend, and I was a bad friend – to myself. I was accused of changing, and I did change – for the better. I was told I would regret ending this one-sided friendship and, yes, I did indeed have regret about ending this particular friendship – but only because I didn’t have the balls to do it sooner.
I made a monumental decision that day and one I will never regret making. I finally gave myself permission to define how I let people treat me. My friendships now are nurturing and reciprocal and the friends I have in my life treat me with the same respect I show them. It was a bumpy road for a while but knowing when to let go was a lesson I learned the hard way. I may have a few cuts and bruises from having walked into a new freedom but I shall wear those scars with pride.
polysyllabic profundities 