I see the marks, feel the pain from the marks. Marks that I never thought I would have. No one would believe that I would have these marks. I still can’t believe I have these marks. I never thought I would understand the marks I see on others. I now understand. I understand the extreme mental anguish and despair that evoke the marks. I always thought I could handle it, handle my emotional pain. I never thought it could get worse. It got worse.
Was that day my rock bottom? I keep thinking about that day. I see it clearly; I hear it clearly. I remember. I remember fear, hurt, regret, disappointment, pain, embarrassment, despair, hopelessness. What I wanted was the darkness. The darkness of nothing. Was that the answer? Nothing? I wondered how long I would need the darkness; need the nothingness to last. Would it be for an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year? Would it be forever? Should it be forever? What would it be like, the darkness? Would it be like floating? Seeing everyone I loved, but I can’t get to them? Would I feel nothing? Would I feel the people I loved? Did the marks keep me from darkness, from nothingness? Maybe the marks saved me in some fucked up way. Did they?
It was a week ago that the marks showed up on my body. A week is not enough time to answer all the questions or figure out all the answers. Some days, waking up is the best I can offer. Other days, I want to conquer the world and give a big fuck you to all those judging me for trying to figure out my world. Why am I not allowed to be me, EVER? Always dancing the line between acceptable and hearing the disappointed tsk. Live for me, live for them. Live for me, lose them. Live for them, lose me. Why are there only two options?
Fuck. Do you see? This is where the marks come from. The exasperation, the desperateness, the hopelessness. My marks are mine. I own them, I understand them. I needed my marks.
How long have we been dancing the dance? Do you remember? I think the real dancing started about four years ago. To be fair and completely honest, the dancing was always there. It was in the background at times, but it was always there.
You do know the dancing I’m talking about, right? It’s what has become our traditional relationship dance. I think we unknowingly started this dance; it wasn’t intentional. We did what we needed to do to, right? Is that how you remember the dance starting? There were times family interfered with our relationship. We each pacified the other. I know I felt stuck in the middle and I’m sure you did as well. Looking back, I wish we would have had the ability to cope with the interference and stop the dancing. But we danced around the problems, hoping they would just disappear. While it wasn’t always looming over our shoulders, the dancing was still happening in the background; waiting for a weak moment to speed up the tempo, to make one of us feel weak, vulnerable, unsettled. We did the best we could, right?
I think there was a time, and it probably was about four years ago, where the dancing pattern we are in now started. I would talk to you about needing help with decisions, kids, money, day to day stuff. I would talk, you would listen. I would get frustrated and stop talking. You waited me out, at least that’s how I felt/feel. You waited until I could no longer take the awkward silence, the no talking. I would break my silence, and everything would eventually go back to our normal dancing. It’s odd now that I think about it. I couldn’t stand living in the awkward silence, so I broke. But there was still silence, just a different kind of silence. It was the silent song of our dance. Our dancing pattern happened when, like every three or six months? The dance always started and ended the same way. I feel like I tried over and over again. Do you feel that way? Like you tried over and over again? I guess it doesn’t matter.
We are still dancing. Now we dance around each other. We dance around talking, touching, feeling. What happens when the dance ends? What happens when one of us stops dancing? What if it’s you? What if it’s me? Does it look different or feel different?
Do we continue to live in the comfortable uncomfortableness that surrounds us daily because living in the comfortable uncomfortableness is easier than moving our lives into the unknown uncomfortableness. Is that anyway to live? How do we continue to avoid what is right in front of our faces?
I feel like you are living in the shadows of the three wise monkeys; see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. If you turn a blind eye to what is happening to us, you don’t have to worry about anything. If you refuse to hear what I am saying over and over, you don’t have to worry about anything. If you refuse to speak to me about what is happening to us, you don’t have to worry about anything.
But I have a question.
What happens when one of us steps off the dance floor?
I noticed something about a week ago, regarding my blog. I do have followers (and I thank you for that). I look at my followers’ blogs and I follow quite a few. Very interesting stuff to read. I appreciate the different ideas, opinions. There are a lot of followers who are some type of…..fixer. That is the only word I can come up with at the moment. They are health/wellness bloggers, relationship bloggers, romance advisor’s – you get the drift. My wondering mind wants to know if those followers are hoping to maybe, fix me? Maybe get a new client? I don’t know. I am cynical, so I question everything. I do not mean any offense at all – HONEST! Or did they read my stuff and think “Holy Mother of God! This person is fucked up! Send help immediately!” Maybe they can use me as an example?
I think it would be cool to have a back and forth with people who follow me. Ask me a question, make a comment. It’s cool. Let’s have a discussion. Ya know?
So, I do have a question for the people in long term relationships. Do you talk to each other? What do you talk about? If you go out to a local watering hole. Do you sit and engage with others around you? Do you talk with your partner about anything? What do you talk about? Or do you sit in some type of comfortably uncomfortable silence? Is there a point and time where the talking just stops? Is that just the natural progression of a long-term relationship? I’m not a quiet person. What happens when the local watering hole doesn’t provide the same stimulation? Are you able to sit and talk endlessly with your partner? I’m totally serious. I want to hear what people have to say, what you think, what you do in your relationship. Cause when you boil it all down, what should be at the core of your long-term relationship? Love, communication, understanding, compatibility…………what is it? What do you think?
What do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?
Who do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?
Tell me the good, the bad and the ugly. Here I am. No filter, no make-up. Just me, raw and vulnerable. Opening to you. What will you do with this?
I wonder if you see what I see. Do you only see what I want you to see? Do you see me? ME!
There are so many words I want to hear, so many truths I want to hear. The truth can be messy, hurtful, powerful. It can open doors and it can close doors.
Who do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?
What do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?
I love reading. I love reading a phrase that speaks to me. I feel like I’m the first person to truly get what the writer was trying to make the reader see, or feel, or experience. There is a phrase I read recently that I think about all the time.
There are no rules where you dream.
Think about that. Each time I read it; it means something different to me. But that’s what words are for, right? It’s about discovery and learning and growth. It’s about thinking of something in a different way, looking at the world around you in a different way. Maybe the words make you feel a certain way about yourself, your lover, your friend, your world.
There are no rules where you dream.
I can dream about the person I want to be. I can dream about the person I wish I was. I can dream about the person I am meant to be. All different, but so very similar.
There are no rules where you dream.
I can daydream. I do daydream. There are no rules when I daydream. No one knows I’m doing it. Daydreaming of living in a different place, living in a different time, living in a different world.
There are no rules where you dream.
Sometimes, dreams take me back to times in my life I don’t want to remember. But there are no rules. I have to remember that – there are no rules. There are no rules that say I have torepeat my past mistakes, re-live my past tragedies, or feel the shame and guilt of those times.
There are no rules where you dream.
So, tell me. If there are no rules where you dream, what will you dream? Where will your dreams take you?
I am a self-proclaimed WORDY. I love words. I love to talk, I love to listen, I love to read, I love to write (not well, but it’s for me so ….), I love song lyrics. I want to wow and amaze people with what I write. I want my words to start conversations. I want my words to invoke a feeling. Even if you hate what I write, hate is still a feeling – right? I want to use big fancy words, but that’s just not me. I like big fancy words. I love learning the meaning of words that are new to me.
I love writing a note in a card, or sending an email or text to someone that makes them feel special. It is my hope that they feel special because of the words I have carefully chosen to give them. The words aren’t always eloquent, but they are always heartfelt and sincere. I have used my words to write poems and letters to loved ones that have passed. I have used my words to write speeches for special occasions. I just love using words and seeing people respond to my words.
Three songs hit me in the face this morning with the lyrics. First, Macarthur Park by Donna Summer. The lyrics for your reading pleasure. What do they say to you?
Spring was never waiting for us, dear It ran one step ahead As we followed in the dance
MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark All the sweet, green icing flowing down Someone left the cake out in the rain I don’t think that I can take it ‘Cause it took so long to bake it And I’ll never have that recipe again Oh, no
I recall the yellow cotton dress Foaming like a wave On the ground beneath your knees The birds, like tender babies in your hands And the old men playing Chinese checkers by the trees
MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark All the sweet, green icing flowing down Someone left the cake out in the rain I don’t think that I can take it ‘Cause it took so long to bake it And I’ll never have that recipe again Oh, no
MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark All the sweet, green icing flowing down Someone left my cake out in the rain And I don’t think that I can take it ‘Cause it took so long to bake it And I’ll never have that recipe again Oh, no, oh
The second and third are from my girl crush. Seriously. P!nk (sigh). First would be the song Happy. Again, lyrics for your reading pleasure. I swear she read my mind. Can you relate?
Since I was 17 I’ve always hated my body And it feels like my body’s hated me Can somebody find me a pill To make me un-afraid of me?
Seen every therapist, but I’m a cynical bitch Don’t like to talk about my feelings I take another hit, I find another fake fix ‘Cause it’s easier than healing
I don’t wanna be this way forever Keep telling myself that I’ll get better Every time I try, I always stop me Maybe I’m just scared to be happy
Since I was 22 I’ve been with somebody who loves me And I’ve been tryna believe it’s true But my head always messes up my heart No matter what I do
Seen every therapist, but I’m a cynical bitch Don’t like to talk about my feelings I take another sip, I swear it’s my last fix ‘Cause it’s easier than healing
‘Cause I don’t wanna be this way forever Keep telling myself that I’ll get better Every time I try, I always stop me Maybe I’m just scared to be happy I don’t wanna be this way forever Keep telling myself that I’ll get better Every time I try, I always stop me
Maybe I’m just scared to be happyMaybe I’m just scared to be happy Maybe I’m just scared to be happyI’m so scared of having something to lose
I’m scared of being somebody new I’m so scared of all them seeing the truth ‘Cause right now I’ve got nothing
But I don’t wanna be this way forever Keep telling myself that I’ll get better Every time I try, I always stop me Maybe I’m just scared to be happy
Maybe I’m just scared to be happy (Maybe, yeah) Maybe I’m, I’m scared to be happy
And the final P!nk (sigh) song. True Love. If you have been in a relationship for any amount of time, this fits, PERFECTLY! Don’t you agree? Lyrics for your reading pleasure. I know I am smiling as I sing along off key with my girl P!nk to this one!
Sometimes I hate every single stupid word you say Sometimes I wanna slap you in your whole face (whoa oh oh) There’s no one quite like you, you push all my buttons down I know life would suck without you (whoa oh oh) At the same time, I wanna hug you I wanna wrap my hands around your neck You’re an asshole but I love you And you make me so mad, I ask myself Why I’m still here, or where could I go You’re the only love I’ve ever known But I hate you, I really hate you So much I think it must be True love, true love It must be true love Nothin’ else can break my heart like True love, true love It must be true love No one else can break my heart like you
Just once tried to wrap your little brain around my feelings Just once please try no to be so mean (whoa oh oh) Repeat after me now R-O-M-A-N-C-E-E-E Come on I’ll say it slowly (Romance!) You can do it babe At the same time, I wanna hug you I wanna wrap my hands around your neck You’re an asshole but I love you And you make me so mad, I ask myself Why I’m still here, or where could I go You’re the only love I’ve ever known But I hate you, I really hate you So much I think it must be True love, true love It must be true love Nothin’ else can break my heart like True love, true love It must be true love No one else can break my heart like you
Think it must be love (I love you) I think it must be love (I love you) Why do you rub me up the wrong way? Why do you say the things that you say? Sometimes I wonder how we ever came to be But without you I’m incomplete I think it must be True love, it must be true love It must be true love
Nothin’ else can break my heart like True love, true love It must be true love No one else can break my heart like you
So, having said all that. As much as I love giving words, I love receiving words. I need words from those around me. I need words to really believe how and why you need me. I need words to really believe you want me and no one else. I need words to really believe you will always be my side. I need words to believe you truly love me and only me. Maybe you can’t find your own words, and that’s okay. Poems use words, songs use words. Is there a song you hear that makes you think of me? Why do I need words so desperately? I’m honestly not sure. I just do. Maybe the words give me something I can hold onto or I can reflect on when I’m doubting myself. Does that make sense?