Broken Imagery purely in words...

©brokenimagery

I find myself in a unique place this evening. My home, empty, the creeks and cracks from the cats tip toeing around upstairs are the only thing I hear, besides the selection I have of music quietly playing in the background...

Things are becoming so frighteningly real...slightly tangible almost. My words seem to have no home to visit these days. They sit, sometimes not so still, but often just lingering around inside me. Sometimes I feel sadness in the instant vacancy my world became, and other times I am comforted by the opportunity of growth that I am capable of. It's scary really when I think about it...confronting the most intimidating person I know- myself.

There's a long past of self doubt...and here I am, facing these "gifts" (as some call it) and don't quite know what to do with myself. Sometimes I feel this thing that people say they see in me...this life, and talent, and it crowds me like a full bar located in central London after they have taken the World Cup- it's almost suffocating. All this pressure on me, and the hands that have put on layer after layer have been my own.

So much has happened. I wish I could pour the tears that come and go directly into a drought somewhere in Africa. They surprise me these days, I'll be walking out and about, whistling, freestyle walking, or just flat out smiling- and then I look, or hear someone say something and my heart just kinda jumps from my chest to the dirty sidewalk that Alberta is clothed with. Opportunities keep presenting themselves to me, wrapped up like a present to be left under the tree for Christmas morning...with elation I accept, but I tuck them away, not sure of what to fully do with them, or how to even handle it.

Love has dressed my thoughts with much intent these days. Thinking of those I have loved, still love, and the hearts that once held me closely. Someone told me not to long ago that I will love many times in my life...and sometimes it's going to hurt, but that's the risk and fall we have to be willing to take. I foresee getting bruised knees, and scuffed up hands from future loves...I hope that I am able to open my heart up, I fear pain, and am worried I will risk never fully loving someone again just to avoid that heartache. However, sometimes it's just the way the cookie crumbles. Sometimes, I just wish I could be this "badass." That I could be one of those people that can detach themselves emotionally- that I could keep my heart in a separate box, where it's locked up and watched with strict security. That would just be a self-destructive path of some kind, and to be honest, one I am pretty familiar with.

For tonight, I just wish that I could get a clean slate. That some painter could come by with some primer, and a roller, and get going on the coverings of the heart I hold and love with. That I could forget...but the truth, sadly, is that I never want to forget. I want to keep it forever, and always remember how amazing and beautiful things were. I've battled a why that haunted me every single minute of my waking and sleeping day/night. I have put it to rest, and am left with all of what it was trying to cover up.

So, I go. I don't runaway- I come back. However, I leave for a minute...and I see that I am greater than an unknown label that has attached itself to me. I go back to those faces that know me better than anyone else in this world, and vainly I soak it up- because love is the biggest absent thing in my life right now...and I need to soak it up anyway I can. Distant family, a made up family, and friends that accept me for me- and even more, they like the person that I stand in. When I left to Atlanta, I was a broken, loveless girl...I kinda return there the same way five years later...only its different.

This is sappy, but it's the honest to God truth. It's the purest out pour of words or emotions I could even fathom at the moment...and really ones that have gone unsaid for some time now. I unravel, in preparation for my traveling adventure. I must be real with myself, and seek the respect that I am owed. For I am a good person, and it took several years, and many hard dark days to see this, and even more, believe it...somehow I have doubted that for awhile...no more, I am rightfully taking back the character that I am proud to be. The woman I grew into is one I am proud of. For those that can't see that, I cannot battle to keep. As I wrote months (if not over a year ago) "For I am me, and so much more." Here's to loving the best that I can, and learning the lessons in letting go.