invited 
into an elite fellowship

of the broken and battered and bruised
called to connect myself 
with those of unfortunate fate
buried in shadows of pain and regret.

Those "they" forgot,
left with no recourse, no options, no hope.

No way of knowing how the tide would turn in their favor.

Weakened by difficulty,
stretched by adversity,
black-widow pasts, 
witless windows closed,
doors slammed in faces,
tear-stained remembrances of 
being dumped, dropped, dissed, skipped over and left behind.

I understand,
I empathize.
Cried bitter tears 
from weary eyes.

Looked past the possible,
head dropped in defeat,
channeled disappointment 
to duty-bound retreat.

I see your efforts.
Your wounds are real.
Dim expectation
for your heart to heal.

Drunk with bile,
reduced to gangrene
as rich blood spills 
from your broken dreams.

Banished from care,
Rejected by peace
Discharged from warmth
No sign of release.

Aching from angst
Dripping with fear
Clinging to confusion
Dodging the jeers.

Drenched in delusion
Bleached by the fire
Bludgeoned and bitter
From stillborn desire.

My kindred society
of the damaged and doomed
Yet a sliver of hope
from the distance looms.

Hold on, my friends, 
we shall find our repose
We are gems in disguise
yet no one knows.

Once we reach our oasis.
recompensed once for all
Vindication is waiting
For wrongs big and small.

We just have to get there;
why should fate be so cruel
to disallow us our right
to turn fire into fuel.

There has to be better,
waiting just beyond this wall
This barrier of afflictions
that has stunted us all.

It will all be better
When exoneration ensues.
And the brisk hope of sunshine
Beams down on these bruises.

The Richness in Experience

I've been reading some old journal entries lately, and needless to say I have been through a lot of thoroughly-documented emotion.  It's amusing to look back at the thoughts I had from 8 or 10 years ago about my life and the direction I thought it was taking.

It's also interesting to find that I am in some of the same predicaments and situations now that I found myself in 10 years ago.  Does that mean I haven't changed? No.  Does that mean I haven't grown?  Not at all.

What it means is that "the more things change, the more they stay the same."  Basically, a lot of factors in life don't change.  People remain selfish, life remains unpredictable.  People argue over politics and religion.  They eat too much, drink too much, indulge in all manner of insatiable appetites, yet are still unhappy.  We always want what we cannot have, and are ungrateful for what we do have.  Love is a crapshoot.  Humans are flawed.  Life is but a moment.

All of these things have remained the same over the years.

What has changed is me.   My perspective has changed.  My approach to life has been twisted, turned, bent, broken, and rebuilt.

There are still many things about this life that I do not like.  However, I have chosen not to hinge my happiness on the choices of others.  I still get upset when I am mistreated. I still get frustrated with injustice.
But I have accepted that these things exist and that I will continue to encounter them until I die.

My focus is less on what others are doing these days and more on what I will choose to do in response.  I am angling my efforts in the direction of progress.  If it doesn't bring progress, I don't want it.

I still have much to learn.  And I realize that being so passionate about life has been both a blessing and a curse.

Regardless of who and what has come and gone in my life, I am still here.  Still evaluating, still navigating, still moving swiftly past trouble into peace. I am learning to be patient with people, and with myself as well.

I am grateful to see a positive change in my life; I'm reaching for better days and a happier heart.  A glance back at my old self gives me a sweet smile of accomplishment.  I am grateful for the lessons I've learned and for the how they have molded me into a better person.

One day, I'll look back at the person I am now. More years, more wisdom, more experience will have been added to me. Exponential greatness awaits; it's been a bittersweet journey thus far.

Perfectly Angry & Bitterly Single in 2004

*This is journal entry from 2004.  I came across it and the perfectly-articulated anger just had to be shared... LOL.  It wasn't funny at the time, but it's amazing what we deal with as singles trying to find our "other half".

Saturday, 2.7.2004

Okay.  So much for being content.  Today blew up in my face like a set of roman candles.  I woke up this morning feeling really sad, not wanting to get out of bed and start my day.  I just thought if I could lay in the bed, maybe I could escape my reality for a little longer.  Maybe when I woke up, things would be different. 

Now, mind you, it’s not that my life is all that horrible.  I have a great mom, who is very supportive.  She doesn’t pressure me about when I’m going to get married and give her some grandkids.  She’s single and unattached like me, and she knows how challenging it is to be found by the right guy. 

I like my job okay (I guess).  School is coming along great.  Sometimes the pressure of it all is a bit too much, but I admit that I do take on a lot.  I am actually bored without a lot to do.  Even with working full-time and going to school full-time, I’m still bored a lot. 

My family is cool.  My brother and I are really close.  We don’t get to talk often, but we have a bond that thrives without a lot of conversation.  I have some good friends.  Quite a few of them are all anxious about getting married and having children.   Most of them are a little older than me, so perhaps their biological clock is ticking a little louder than mine.  They say I’m lucky to be 28.

Truthfully, I really don’t have anything to complain about.  I am thankful that all my basic needs are met—I am healthy, and I have a bright future ahead. I guess that’s just how humans are.  We can have a good life, but still manage to find something wrong with it. 

Yesterday, I was content with being single (meaning being unmarried and not having a boyfriend).  Today, I’ve been pissed about being single.  Talk about mood swings.  I woke up feeling sad.  I felt like crying.  Then, my mom said something, and we started a conversation, and I started crying.  She was talking about how she’s been praying for me because she could tell I was depressed.  I have been depressed for almost 2 weeks now.  

I have moped around, been kind of quiet.  Eventually, I got sick.  I have had the stomach flu for the past week.  After having the stomach flu, I developed some sort of gastro-intestinal deal, caused by too much acid being produced in my stomach.  All last week, I lay around in the bed, too sick to move, and too sad to want to.  Now that I am better, I have to get up and start moving again.  This sucks.

It’s not that I have to have everything I want.  I don’t think it’s that bad.  I’m not one of those people who thinks the world is all about me.  I do notice other people.  I do see the pain in their faces.  I pray for them.  I wish that I could help them more.  I am not one of those selfish people with their head up their own rear airbag.

On the contrary, I try to think of other people.  Do I try to help for the sake of helping them?  Or do I help so that I won’t feel like a selfish blowhard?  A valid question—one I don’t know the answer to.  All I can say is that I’m not callous or self-absorbed.  I do care about other people.

Part of the problem is this whole notion that I have to earn the right to have a husband and kids.  I don’t know where that comes from, but I have had a twisted thought that God is watching to see how many selfless acts I commit, and after my ____th one, He will answer my prayer for a family.  That is totally nuts, I know. 

It’s like those tickets at Chucky Cheese’s—you have score up enough tickets to get that big prize you want behind the counter.  Where did I get that from?

The only thing I can think of is my childhood. Yeah, everybody blames their dysfunction on their childhood.  I’m not blaming my childhood.  I’m just suggesting that maybe this is where the thought originated. 

When I was a kid, my parents would reward me for getting good grades, or they would let me get a new dress if I was going through a particularly rough time with something (i.e. being picked on in school, etc.).  That was probably not a good habit for me to get into, but it worked at the time. 

I don’t know what to say.  I am so pissed that I can’t have things the way I want them. I guess today was nothing more than an internal temper tantrum.  Well, it doesn’t feel any less real just because I’m 28 years old.  

What sucks is to really want something and to not be able to do anything to get it.  

I want more than anything for my friend (soon to be ex-friend) of 15 years to tell me to my face why he has chosen to run away from me.  Why he takes the chances he has to eff around with my emotions when he sees me, just because that’s what he wanted to do.  I guess it felt good for him.  He has totally disregarded my feelings, and hasn’t even turned around to say why.  

I think he owes me an explanation.  Now, all the self-help books as well as my mom would say that no one owes me anything.  I beg to differ.  Friendships are non-verbal agreements.  If you are friends and have any type of real connection, you should be bound by that bond and treat each other with decency and respect.  People want to be your friend and get all the perks that goes with it.  But, as soon as accountability comes into play, they’re ready to bail.  Then, they don’t owe you anything.  They take your best and leave you hanging.  It shouldn't be that way. 

The truth is, that’s the risk I took.  I gave J another chance at friendship, when he’d already shown he was skillful at running away.  What he doesn’t seem to be good at is closeness and candor.  He has run from me off and on for years now. I should never have given him the opportunity to bail on me again.  He is very good at that.   I was just stupid enough to believe that things would be different.  Even my mom thought things were taking a different turn.

So, what do I do now?  Continue to blame myself and hate him?  I don’t guess that’s a feasible plan.  

Although, I would love to tell him face to face how many nights my tears have burned my face and soaked my pillow.  On the other side of him taking the easy way out, there is someone else whose feelings are getting hurt.  Talk about selfish.  I’m the selfish one who only wants what I want?  I would never leave someone hanging like that. Get all emotional and attached, say a bunch of sh$%* they don’t intend to back up, and then split.   

What an @sshole.  My time would’ve been better spent knitting a blanket.  I hate investing my time like that and people don’t even give you the decency of facing you and saying, “You know what,______” whatever goes in the blank.  I should never have given him the chance to bail on me again. 

The sad part is, I am sitting here, pissed off at him.  I have no way to even let him know what a loser move I think he’s made.  I have no knowledge of whether or not things will ever be made right.  Someone has done me wrong.  And the sh$%* is still gaping open.  That’s what I hate about this situation. 

I really wanted for J and I to have something.  I thought we were great together.  I had fun around him, and I thought he was having fun around me.  We laughed, we talked.  He’s an intellectual, and so am I.  I thought that we could build the years of friendship we’ve had into a great relationship.  He’s dumped me out of the picture, with no explanation.  Won’t even face me.  Chicken sh$%* @ss.  I think I deserve better than that. 

And now, I swallow the brick in my throat and go on.  That’s what everybody keeps telling me.  Easier said than done.  Not to mention the fact that I don’t see any wonderful guys ready to take the spot I had reserved for J. I don’t see a line full of handsome, intelligent bachelors who have known me for 15 years, waiting to step up to the plate.  I don’t really see anyone ready to step up to the plate.

J. had the perfect profile. Cultured, smart, witty, driven.

We had the perfect story. Our decade-plus friendship developed into something more. He just didn’t seem to have the balls to just go ahead and have an effing relationship with me.  I don’t see what the big d@mn deal is. 

My mom says it’s narrow to just look at things from your side and not consider the other person’s position.  I have considered J’s position.  But since he won’t talk to me, and hasn’t used his opportunity to talk about what’s going through his mind, his position gets no airplay.   I don’t give a d@mn about sh$%* that he won’t even talk to me about.  If he’d rather trash me with no explanation, that’s his choice.  But he can’t say I haven’t given him the opportunity to tell his side.  He’s refused to talk to me at all.  Let alone have any dialogue about our relationship.  So f*&% him. 

Go on with your life, Kim.  You’ve gotten pretty good at doing that.  You get so caught up in the prospect of something that might happen but ends up not happening, that you are used to people telling you, “Just forget about it,” or “Go on with your life.”  Yep.  

Once-a-d@mn-gin, pick up your shattered dream of companionship with yet another guy, and “go on with your life” until the next @sshole comes around and wants to treat you like garbage.  Sure, that’s what we all live for.  A guy to ignore us.  Not call at all.  Leave our weekends empty and dateless.  You’d think that’s what I’ve been praying for, ‘cause that sure seems to be all I’ve been getting.  Since M, that is.  When was that, ’98?

Whatever. I don’t see how I’m just supposed to act like all this sh$%*  doesn’t matter to me.  Skip to my loo and my boring life with a bunch of papers and homework and students and sh$%*.  No fun for me. No cologne in my weekend.  No dates to take to parties.  No strong arms to lean on.  No car doors opened for me.  But I should be perfectly fine with that, right?  After all, companionship is not a necessity.  It just feels like it is. 

It is just so totally disgusting for people to tell me that I shouldn’t want something that I genuinely want.   Then, to offer me all those d@mn consolation speeches, “Oh, just finish your education first.”  I’ve got at least 4 years before I finish my primary educational goals.  That will put me at the ripe age of 32. 

I don’t think there’s a reason people can offer me as to why I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend.  They can’t say it’s because I’m too picky.  I’m not picky, I’m selective.  Besides, I don’t see a line of guys waiting to ask me out any d@mn way.  I can’t tell you when someone asked me for my number.  Not even the jokes of guys ask me for my number anymore. Not that I would give it to them, or be flattered they asked.  Guys like that don’t even count. Dudes with no goals are a dime a dozen. I refuse to even spend time with someone like that.

My mom said today, “I just don’t think you’re timing has come yet to meet the man you’re going to marry.”  Well what the hell is he waiting on?  I’m not a teenager.  I’m not misguided or clueless or naïve.  I have done some things in my life, and I don’t think a boyfriend is too much to ask.  If J would uncurl from the fetal position and get it together, all this could be worked out. 

His feeble @ss can’t be what’s holding my life up.  That’s actually a ridiculous notion.

What now?  I am called upon to swallow hard, ingest the BRICK in my throat, and go on, as if none of this has affected me.  After all, poor J. Poor J. who has so many issues.  Pray for J.  Keep praying for him.  He needs your prayers. 

The other person always gets the sympathy and understanding.  The benefit of the d@mn doubt.  Not me.  I’m just being selfish and spoiled.  And he’s not?

Whatever.  I can’t continue this way.  I don’t want just a boyfriend.  I’ve wanted J in my life.  I can’t say that I want to go “out there” and just start dating.  I’m not for that.  I usually rely on God to bring people in my life.  I don’t go and get people.  That’s why I get so pissed when sh$%* blows up like this.  

I’m not out here whoring around.  And believe me, it’s not because I don’t want to sometimes.  I try my best not to even entertain that notion.  I stay away from these guys cause most of them will have your clothes off you before you can blink.  Is there any reward for doing things this way?  Or would I be better off to be up under a different man every night.  

I mean, you act like I want to be sitting up in this room by myself.  Like I just chose J. I just went out there, found him, and manufactured feelings for him.  My Mom was the one who told me I needed to deal with how I felt about him.  Why, so I could be devastated right now?  I just don’t understand.  The nausea in my stomach is because I have been digesting bricks—I  don’t understand it, but I am trying to thank God for whatever the lesson is in this....

  

Looking Back at a Smarter Me

I was looking through some files on an old computer, and I came across this journal entry from July 2006.  Suffice it to say that I was on to something back then....

************

So, it’s ten o’clock on Friday night.  I am sitting in my room, staring at my picture with Cuba Gooding, Jr.  Too bad he’s married.  I mean, he seems like a really nice guy.  If he is, his wife’s lucky.

Am I lucky, even though I don’t have a man—a “good” man?  Sure I am. I have a whole lot, even without a man.  

Today, I am happy with my life. I know it’s Friday night, and some people would say I should have some exciting social event going on.  Some hot date. 

Even though I am not inhaling the intoxicating scent of a man’s cologne, or gazing into the eyes of a “tall, dark, and handsome,” I do have a date—I have a date with my own destiny. 

Tonight, there is something much stronger than the ache of an empty womb and the pain of a bare left hand.  I am sitting in my room, perfectly content that I don’t have a husband or children or the threat of either.  Not that I don’t want marriage or motherhood, it’s just that I’m okay with not having those things today.

I mean, we’ve all done that—told ourselves that there’s something out there we’re missing—some once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet Mr. Right.  Believed that we’ve got to get out there and stay out there so that we don’t miss our chance.  What chance are we really talking about?  Most of the time we go out and get disappointed.  Either we meet someone who seems really nice, but turns out to be a jerk, or we meet someone who, right away we know is a jerk. 

Well, I have decided not to do that tonight.  Yes, it’s Friday, and I’m a young woman in the “prime” of my life.  Yes I could be anywhere, doing anything, with anybody.  I could be the life of the party.  But, instead, I am the life of my own party. 

Today, I have reached a milestone.  I have grown.  For the first time in a long time, I am totally content with my life as it is.  I don’t feel like I need a boyfriend or husband to have a smile on my face.  I am genuinely happy, and I am celebrating my progress. 

Tonight, I am spending time with someone I love—me.  

************

indicative of much,

certain of nothing,

Your spirit calls me in twilight tone

Pressing past the angst and dawning

Lifeless wishes of your own.

Should chance afford us endeared design,

Our love could stop the hands of time.

The watch night offers breaths to take

In witless rhythm I await

The moment when your breath touches mine

The essence deemed forever's rhyme.

Amorously tranced in my thoughts of you

Dripping sugar in my view.

The leveled plane is synchronized

To endless futures in your eyes.

Win my heart, it's yours to keep,

Lull these doubts and fears to sleep.

Risk the sunrise for my soul,

Drape me with your love untold.

Shape the moon to fit my hands,

Grasp the stars as you have planned.

Tame the wind for me to hold,

You are the kindred of my soul.

Kiss away my inhibitions, and

Confirm this simple premonition.

Unlock the constellations 

For my recreation

Bring me the clouds in your silver hands

Swiftly to me, my secret Superman.

Rescue me from shallow venture

Cloak the sky with your misadventure 

Test the waters, feed my soul

The navigation you control.

Gift me the mountains to rest my head,

Cloak me in rainbows and sun drops of red.

Entangle my dreams with those of your own,

Unravel the threads of the Love not yet shown.

Translate my questions to your language of love

Transform the sorrows to flights of doves.

Endeared to your searching

Mesmerized by your smile 

Create our forever, Happy ever after

Lead me into laughter,

Mold me into richness

Cover me with kisses,

Reveal to me the recesses of your heart

Carve out a place for us to start.

The deepest devotion within my wings

The sweet soft morning that loving you brings.

Genuine wealth of pure intentions

Live through me your greatest inventions

Lift me, love me past the pain

Arms to hold, and strength to gain.

Within your ribcage I remain

God's objective is sustained.

Carry leaves and grains of sand,

Ride the wind to purposed plan.

Knowing truth overcomes objection,

The true object of my affection.

Touch the sun to tell for sure,

Once you know, there's so much more.

Embarking on an infinite journey,

Stretch of longing ended.  Learning.

Castle built with drifts of snow. 

I love him much more than he'll ever know.

I'm asking nicely: Leave me alone.

let it ride
don't stir it
don't wrestle, don't change

it's meant to be as it is
leave it alone
let he natural ebb and flow
of the changing tide
sway things to where they should be
in nature's time.

there's too much to contend with
to try to control everything
the only jurisdiction any of us has is
over our own sense of being

no control over the motives and intentions of others
no say so over who does what, when and with whom
our assignment is to try to catch the tide as it sweeps by
to stay within the gentle flow of our own waters
to be heard, to be validated, to be purposeful, intentional, real and regarded.

our quest is simple but complex at the same time
no one understands us, but it makes perfect sense in our own minds
everyone's an island, an expert, a guru, infallible, invincible

but mistakenly human, flawed, error, dust.
no one has the answers, but everyone thinks they do

we're all foolishly arrogant enough to believe in our own perfection.
yet secretly and painfully aware of our flaws.
when will we decide to approach things realistically?
accept that we know some things, but in the end, we have no real answers.

None of us knows what our tomorrow will bring,
what calamity awaits us on the other side of this sunset,
what tragedy looms in our tomorrow
what triumphs will embrace us beyond the next sunrise
or the final hour of our inevitable demise.

Perhaps it's because we feel helpless not knowing so many aspects of our unknown future
maybe the fear of tomorrow's sorrows plagues us into arrogant trance
of quoting our successes, predicting our gallantry and ignoring our frailty.

I don't have the answers.
and it pains me that I don't.
But the greater pain would be assuming that I have the answers, only to to be irreparably disappointed once I remember that I'm clueless.

There seems to be no fountain of youth,
no euphoria that turns our efforts into a continual stream of reward.
That's why we get discouraged.
We put good out there, and evil comes back toward us.
We sow friendship, but get adversaries in return.

I give understanding, but I'm getting accusation.
I give money, but I still find some lack.
I've listened, but cannot seem to be heard.

The physical pain of dreams deferred and the mental pain of not getting out what you're putting in....

Has me seated right now.
I have nothing to say.
I've been flabbergasted. Shocked.
Bitterly Disappointed.

So what happens next?

I don't feel that I have the strength to definitively say, "oh well, I'll just keep on..."
Right now, I need to take a seat.
I can't go back into the ring right now.
My eye is swollen from the blows.
My strength sapped by the fight.
Resolve has been weakened by the struggle.

I've talked, I've thought, I've worked, I've prayed, I've mused, questioned, reasoned.
Now, I don't have much to say because I've said everything I could.

I need a breakthrough and a break from the evil, the selfishness, wickedness, injustice, hatred, bitterness, and disappointment.

Right now, I'm on mute. You don't hear me, and you won't. I'm through talking.
Through trying to reach people.
Through trying to help people find their way when I'm struggling on my own path.
Done offering understanding.
Done reaching out.
Finished with being taken for granted.
I'm not here for other people's recreation.
I'm a living, breathing, feeling person.
My feelings are valid, my perspective deserves respect.

Leave me alone, to my quiet. Or you'll wish you had.
You don't want me to unleash all of my frustration in your direction, so I'm advising you all:

Let. Me. Be. 

Unpacking

let the burdens down off  ya shoulders

drop the weight into the sea

break the bricks and crush the bolders

no more heavy over me.

9.6.08 - DIVORCE

Do you know what today is? It's your anniversary.

It would have been 38 years today, but there were too many tears to stay.  Too much hurt to resolve, too many many guilty parties involved.

They couldn't make it, and on some days does it not add up.

As I look at my own life, what I value, what I long for--someone to love me, cherish me, respect me, offer me support and stability. These are things we all want. 

We all need that shoulder, that love, that partnership--"someone to love" as Mint Condition so simply states it... Someone to spend time, someone to grow old with.

As I look back over my life, there's so many marriages I thought would make it, but they didn't. They just didn't.

And there are no words to explain, no logic to capture why sometimes there isn't enough love, not enough patience, not enough forgiveness to wade through the sands of time that swiftly turn to quicksand, chlorophyll and strychnine--poison.

Life turns to death, monuments turn to dust, fallen soldiers to memorials left of us.
Too much to turn the pages of the past and revive fond memories. 

It wasn't all bad. It just didn't survive. Like a stillborn baby, so full of potential and possibilities, but not equipped with the vital organs, systems and structures needed to survive.


Still, light a candle for the life that was. Remember all that you dreamed for it to be, for at once, you believed in it, you hoped for it, and you did all you could to preserve that life.


Do you know what today is?  It's your anniversary.

To the Persecutors

driving onward
past the smog
mental pollution
psychological sewage

canned answers
truth dancers

fire eluders
barracudas

The King Fish was the Kingpin
'til a larger fish came and ate him.

Carnivorous, no.
Cannibal, maybe.
Egoist? Sure.
Narcissistic, yeah baby.

You are who you are.
You live what you live.
You dole out judgment
that isn't yours to give.

Who gives you your punishment?
Who metes out your demise?
The talking head can put out
the fire in your eyes.

You are
listless
worthless
waste-less

ill-gotten
ill-spoken
hornet's nest

a winsome wimp
with gluttonous taste.

Everything that's passed you has come to waste.

But your day is coming in great haste.

So, prepare your hearts, and brace your mind.
For the obliterate end of your evil kind.

Somewhere

Somewhere, there's someone who works entirely too much, just like me.

Who worries and frets and is anxious about too much that he cannot change.

Someone who likes jazz music, watches TV to unwind, loves warm breezes and tropical destinations.

Someone who knows the value of life, of living, seeing and doing.

Who works hard, focuses, eats ambition, sleeps his dreams, is fixated on his future.

Someone who knows that you get what you pay for, you learn through your pain, and that you're never as smart as you think.

Someone who loves his mother, respects his father;

Reads often, thinks a lot.

Drinks from the cup of waiting, sips of wondering, walks in needing, breathes in wanting...

Just like me.

Someone, who wants it all, thirsts for more, wishes it were easier, but languors in reality.

He wishes, dreams, reaches and hopes.

Desires the Promise Land, but lives in the wilderness.

He walks around Egypt, stays strong in the face of oppression, but hates the oppressor.

Someone who loves sitcoms, cereal on Saturdays, a good meal, and intelligent conversation.

My ally.

My equal.

My shoe on the other foot.

He likes  to cuddle, loves ocean air, needs football Saturdays and warm stew in the wintertime.

He wishes and dreams for me; he can touch me in his sleep, but wakes to find me gone.

Because just like him, I'm somewhere.

Feverish

Medic! Medic!

I need medical attention!
I think I have the flu, but beyond that,
it appears that I've been
stricken with a worse bug. 


It plagues me.
It bothers me.
It touches me.


Man, I got it bad for this man--
love his dirty underwear.
He's got me in the palm of his handsome hand.


Got me choked up, 
hemmed up
strung out
sprung. 


His way,
His man-nerisms
He is all man,
I want him to be all mine.


I can't take it!
I want to smell his essence, 
breathe in his breath,
touch his being
reach his depth.


He is
the Truth
the One
that I've waited for my entire life.
He carries the other half of me around in his pocket
to do what he wills,
what he pleases.
I'm at his mercy,
his whims.


He promises to guard my heart and my honor.
I trust him,
but more than him. I trust what's behind him:
destiny.


He takes my breath away,
Makes my head spin,
My heart flutter,
My stomach drop...


His efforts to reach me are sublime
and he finds me so effortlessly.
I love the way he strokes my heart.


He works me within my boundaries,
and gently tugs me past my deficiencies.


I'm falling for him
and I don't care if I fall flat on my face 
and crush my jaw.


I'm flying, taking a risk.
Moving past my fears,
Grasping the freedom to 
love--


taking that shaky step
for myself,
to rescue my broken heart
from yet more broken glass
and broken life
spent lonely and afraid.


I love him so much, I physically ache
but he's so worth the risk
of heartbreak
I can feel it--his heart aches 
too.


He makes me swoon,
have an out-of-body experience--
leave conscious space and time,
traveling to an unknown location,
to nowhere I've ever been,
nowhere I've known,
no love I've loved.


I want to stay here,
don't wanna leave.


Leave me alone.
Leave me be.
Leave me to my thoughts.
Leave me in this room by myself 
with my thoughts of this wonderful man,
that I can't get enough of.


I can't help but to love him,
to need him,
to want him.
To cry out for him.


I need his voice to reach me,
Arms to hold me,
Hands to touch me,
Heart to teach me--


Love.


Teach me love.
Unabashed, unabridged, unquenched love.


To heal that which ails me--
A heart that cries for love. 

Cease and Desist

You ever get tired of something being the way that it has been for so long?  I mean, tired enough to just stop whatever you are doing, and DECIDE to call an end to it? Yeah, me too.


And on this-wise, I'm gonna have to go biblical on y'all. 


Luke 8: 
43And a woman having an issue of blood twelve years, which had spent all her living upon physicians, neither could be healed of any, 44Came behind him, and touched the border of his garment: and immediately her issue of blood stanched. 45And Jesus said, Who touched me? When all denied, Peter and they that were with him said, Master, the multitude throng thee and press thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me? 46And Jesus said, Somebody hath touched me: for I perceive that virtue is gone out of me. 47And when the woman saw that she was not hid, she came trembling, and falling down before him, she declared unto him before all the people for what cause she had touched him, and how she was healed immediately.48And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.

We've all come across that one person in our lives who seems to be so fortunate, favored or "lucky," as some call it; that one person who seems to have resolute ability to make most anything they want become a reality.

What is it about that person that they can seemingly bring their dreams to life?  What is it that they have that they are able to dream up something, and the next thing you know, they have it?  Not just material things, but they are able to bring about positive moves in their lives, no matter what.

Are they just naturally favored, lucky, or blessed?  Not necessarily.  What sets this individual apart and makes their path so positive and prospered?

I pondered this question for a long time.  I've looked at examples of people, who, no matter what happens, they seem to come out on top.  Not diminishing the importance of hard work and planning, but sometimes these fortunate folks seem able to accomplish miraculous feats without much effort at all?  Why?

One thing I have learned in life is the power of belief and decision.  Part of the reason that I understand the power of belief, is because my faith in God is based on it.  However, from a practical perspective, I have watched people who weren't necessarily the smartest, most attractive, or most talented, but they believed in their abilities, and were therefore able to accomplish incredible tasks. 

Somehow, limited people have been able to reach limitless heights for two reasons: First, because they decided they were going to, and second, because they believed they could.

The decision comes first. The decision that something has to be done, and that I'm going to be the one to do something.  Next, comes the absolute belief that I can do whatever needs to be done to change my situation. 

Much was the case with this woman with "the issue of blood."  She had been plagued by this issue for 12 long years, and had apparently exhausted all efforts to resolve this issue.  The passage of scripture says that she had spent all her money to on doctors to try to cure her medical condition, all to no avail.

During the course of those 12 years, she likely had some moments of hope, when she thought she was coming close to a cure.  She probably had some days when she felt better than others, and thought that this plague would soon be gone from her.  But some days, she undoubtedly awoke, feeling week and unable to function, and as a result, drifted back into a ditch of despair.

This was her body, her disease.  She couldn't escape it.  She probably woke up every morning, conscious of the fact that she had a problem in her body that she couldn't fix.  Her friends likely tried to encourage her, tell her that it could be worse, in an attempt to help her see the bright side of her affliction. 

But, again, the infirmity was living and thriving within her body.  She probably felt there wa s no bright side.  It was not someone else's sickness, it was hers. It was not something she could forget or escape. There was only so much her friends would've been able to understand. 

I have been told about this story in the Bible for most of my life.  This story was used as an example to illustrate the importance of faith.  Faith being akin to belief, it makes sense that the point of the story was that the woman believed a change was possible for her life. 

That makes sense to me.

Another significant point, however, is that she had to come to a point of decision, where she became tired of her situation enough to personally resolve that things had to change. I believe that her decision came first.  Next, came her belief that the situation would change. Having made that resolve, she then reached out to the only source that could remove her pain forever.

At the age of 28, I began experiencing some abnormal symptoms--extreme thirst, having to go to the bathroom often, nausea--all types of things I wasn't used to.

After going to my family practice doctor and being told that my blood sugar was so high that the reading wouldn't register on the meter, my doctor surmised that I was probably a diabetic. She called an ambulance and had me rushed to the hospital.  Even with coma-level blood sugar readings, I was still my fun-loving, good-natured self.  On the way to the hospital, I joked with the EMTs in the ambulance; they couldn't believe that I was conscious and still laughing with levels that high.

After a week-long stay there, a young, handsome doctor came in with my chart, stood over my bed, and told me that I was "likely" a Type 1 diabetic.

I looked up at this doctor, his youthful face, detached disposition, and smooth hands, and I wondered what it felt like to have to deliver life-changing news to people every day.  He seemed virtually unaffected as he stood above me and told me that I would have to take insulin shots every day for the rest of my life.

Something just didn't add up.  He said I was "likely" a Type 1 diabetic.  Okay, so if he said I "likely" was, who was going to give me the definite diagnosis?  

The next day, an older, formidable nurse stepped into the room and with an orange and syringe and showed me how to inject myself with insulin.   I was still in shock.

Finally, after days of confusion, visits from multiple doctors and nurses, and my body being riddled by  saline IVs, insulin injections, tests, and pills, I was released to go home.

But, released to what?  I was still confused about my diagnosis; since he said "likely," I wondered if something else could be wrong with me. 

Over the course of the next 2 years, I would go on to master insulin formulas, carb ratios and blood sugar readings.  I got so skilled at handling this disease, I could awake from sleep, check my blood sugar and inject insulin, all while still being half asleep.

I became more conscious of what I put in my mouth, and calculated the effect that various foods would have on my body and blood sugar levels. 

I went to the gym, I worked out more, planned my meals, cut out fast foods, and lost about 25 pounds.

I was not a heavy person to begin with, but focusing more on my body and overall health caused me to become leaner and overall a healthier person.

Then, a funny thing happened.  The insulin I was taking every day started to have an adverse effect on my blood sugar.  The amounts of insulin that were supposed to keep my blood sugar regulated were now causing it to go lower than normal.  I consulted with my endocrinologist, and together, we kept reducing my daily insulin dosage, until I was down to no insulin at all. I returned to a life free of artificial injections, and my body resumed its ideal settings, releasing its own insulin into my bloodstream.  My blood sugar levels returned to normal without the aid of injections. 

I was free. I had never felt such a feeling of release in my life prior to that point.

Fast forward 6 years later. I found myself back in the boxing ring with Type 1 diabetes again. This time, levels staying consistently high for days on end.  Battling being overwhelmed at work, walking an internal tight-rope with life by losing focus on my holistic health.

The severity of my condition seemed to have reached its apex at this point. My endocrinologist and I were frantically adapting formulas, studying readings, trying to get my body to return to a more solid state of health and balance.

I was frustrated.  Often discouraged.  Feeling defeated. What happened? 

Much like the woman with the issue of blood, at this point, I had depleted resources and exhausted all efforts to fix this problem within my body--this issue of blood.  

After days of struggling, being confined to medical leave, being juggled between doctors and specialists, I grew weary of my infirmed existence.

Finally, the realization hit me again.  In order to change my situation, I was going to have to decide that I was not going to remain in this quandry.

I had decided it years ago, believed that I had it in me to change things, and as a result, my whole life turned around.

Equipped with that reminder, I changed direction.  I called a definitive end to the calamity that had wrapped itself around my life and my body. 

I decided that enough was enough.  The whole notion of being encumbered with weakness and infirmity is dead to me now.  Once I uttered a firm "cease and desist" to the idea of sickness, I closed the case on the dead energy that once stunted my progress.

I realized that I couldn't live that way.  And guess what? I decided that I will not live that way.  

10 days after my decision:  Insulin injections are now at 1/3 of what I once needed to keep my levels normal.  Today, I took the regular dosage, and it dropped my levels below normal.  

Translation: my body does not need the amount of insulin that I once used to take.  I made the decision, accompanied it with the belief, and my body is responding.

Cease and desist, issue of blood.  I've decided against you, and I believe that your time has come to a close.