Friday, August 2, 2013

i write about tears and i write about turning points.


Neglect, indifference, forgetfulness, ignorance are all impossible to God.  He knows everything.  He cares about everything.  And He loves us.  My eyes repeatedly read these words tonight.  Sometimes I find myself searching for answers about my past that I thought I had let go of a long time ago.  I feel a heaviness upon me that's trying to force out perfection.  I feel a coldness that's making me feel pressure in an uncomfortable way.  The aches are finding their way back to my neck and I try to breath slowly and remind myself that I have nothing to fear.  I read again, "Neglect, indifference, forgetfulness, ignorance are all impossible to God.  He knows everything.  He cares about everything.  And He loves us." 

He loves me.  As a child, I felt this constant pressure to be perfect.  I felt like I needed to always do the right thing in order to be a good person.  I did my very best to please the people around me and because of it I was a very good daughter, student, and player.  But all of those things started to tear at me when I wasn't impressing those around me.  I felt as though loving something for the sake of loving it or having an interest in something different would be frowned upon and so I ignored my constant passion for words, traveling, and creations of many sorts. 

Two days ago I had a lot on my mind but I wasn't entirely sure how to speak it because I thought that telling the one person I loved what my true passions were would once again not be good enough.  I reminded him again of my insecurities and mentioned how I'm not entirely sure if I'll be able to live up to what I'm supposed to be.  Tears rolled down my face as I apologized. He asked me two things.  First he asked me to breathe, and then he asked me what I was apologizing to him for?  "There is nobody in this world that you need to impress but you," he spoke quietly.  I looked at him completely confused by my own self because I really had no idea why I was apologizing.  I wasn't sorry about my past.  I wasn't sorry about my insecurities.  And I wasn't at all sorry that I had set such high expectations for myself that I never reached.  Never is the key word in this sentence because it's a word that I never should have used.  With a more positive meaning, I should have said that I'm not sorry about setting such high expectations for myself that I haven't yet accomplished.  Haven't, as in, I'm still working on it and I have nothing but time to keep at it. 

This life I live and this life that you live is merely a moment that is waiting for you to reach whatever expectations you set for yourself at the very right time for you and only you.  It is waiting for you to cry so that the person that loves you can remind you that trying to be everything is going to make you completely lose your mind.  That the pressure you feel every once in awhile is your past self reminding you to be better, be kinder, and be stronger than you were during that time.  As I cried, I was expecting myself to never get past that feeling of uncertainty that laid over me yet within seconds his warm eyes reminded me that I make him proud and that is truly enough.  I don't ever want to rely on anyone else to build my self esteem, however, if there is one person that can remind me that it's not about being perfect, but rather, being present, I find myself being able to once again, dream those dreams I had always tried to hide and it felt so so wonderful.  I said my goals aloud.  I gave him a thank you kiss.  And I sang at the top of my lungs while the cloudy sky turned pink and the humid air became completely breathable.

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