Opposing Forces

I am not the enemy. But I am ill equipped with the necessary armor to engage in battle. Rest assured your arrows have found their marks, and what feelings I thought I might have had, have fled in the light of your cold indifference.

Sedimentary anger knots me up inside, stealing my breath until I am doubled over with pain radiating out from my soul on fire. And in this silence, everything goes unsaid, even as I try to tiptoe around the truth of what I already know. That I cannot sustain this high level of hyper vigilance; a pent up prisoner in this shifting house. I cannot rock this boat should it tip over. I cannot rock this boat I no longer want to be on.

It is enough to measure the return of sadness without having to counter measure the weight of my fear. In the early hours of this morning, a man's shadow crossed the lawn, walking steadily towards my window, a purpose in his gait. I measured his steps with the breathlessness of my fear and stood immobile within my own darkness, helpless to move, rooted as I was to the floor. My mind - stumbled - prepared - swarmed with the adrenaline of flight or fight. But all I heard was the weakness of my, "How?" Forgotten was the baseball bat in the corner of my room, the phone beside my bed. Remembered was my inability to move.

I gave into my fears, even as his ride pulled up and drove him away and found myself cowering in my room, though he had never even crossed the road. This is what toxic energy has fueled. And as the discord grows, my insecurities reach full bloom, leaving me a walking touchstone to soak up your anger and irritation. The small hurts you direct my way as if to remind me that I am nothing. I have no place. That I have not come in from the cold. And I mustn’t forget that.

And in this I forget myself.

Keep Your Eyes on Her

Control is a funny thing. Just when you think you've finally lost it. Boom! You get your backbone back and begin to set to rights the things you've let go wrong. And it's almost like it's an instant shot of courage to the soul. To look at yourself and say, "Now isn't it about time we got this fixed?"

And I'm in mid-fix. Because fuck it, it's more than about time I got with the program. No more running with sharp objects or from sharp objects or towards things that offer no more comfort than a cold cup of coffee and a two day old doughnut.

I want more than some made up half-life. I want - what's the word?

EVERYTHING!

In Memory of Mia

Mia the hamster has died. And yet despite this, we go on as if she isn't missing. In fact she's already been replaced by a hamster with no name. No name because the exact sex of this new wee beastie has yet to be determined and somehow the choosing of a brand new identity doesn't seem to be all that important to any of us right now.

We buried Mia, KC and I on the side of the house where the earth was damp and there wasn't any snow to impede the progress of my spade striking into the ground and laid her gently there to rest next to a dormant bulb that held the promise of life continuing onward.

And while the tears had already been cried much earlier that morning, we both bowed our heads and said a silent prayer for the hamster that had towards the very end of her life, trusted us enough to sit still in the palm of our hands. And somehow knowing this made it easier for KC to move forward and not look back.

Putting Myself on Pause

You're only a writer if you write. And I haven't been a writer for the past few months. Instead I've become a worrier. Excessively worrying about all things big and small. And it has done damage, from the tear stains left to linger on my cheeks to an ever growing void that I cannot fill.

I am a master now of being in-between. And even though I try to get a feeling for where I'm going, I keep looking over my shoulder to see where I've already been. And it's hard not to blur the lines between the present and the past when so much depends on having a future.

But maybe there is no future to be had. Maybe all of this is just a whole bunch of something for nothing. And nothing is guaranteed save for the theory of cause and effect and our reactions to it.

Betting everything can mean losing everything. And a true gambler knows their odds before placing their bet. There is no such thing as a sure thing. No false sense of safety. There is only chance. The randomness of possibilities. The sweet call of victory and the low cry of defeat. It cannot be avoided.

Just as I cannot avoid my feelings of uncertainty even though I know it would be in my best interest to keep my mouth shut. To say nothing. To wait. To stop pushing. But I can't seem to shut up. I am manipulated by my own fears. Words, thoughts and images that tumble around in my head questioning the giant world of everything. Whispering to me a need for answers. Proof of my worth.

I can't explain myself in a way that makes sense. And for the life of me I can't make sense of myself. I only know that I am the cause I'm reacting to.

Ringing In

Why do I still feel like it's 2005?

What's all the hype about 2006?

What's going to change this year? What's going to stay the same?

I have questions ... Mind you, they are without answers. At least at this point.

But I'm hoping it's a better year than last year. A better day than yesterday. And that tomorrow, I'll wake up and put the world to rights where it has went wrong. At least my little corner of it.

I wish the same for you dear reader ... Dream big, laugh often and love with your whole heart.