i’m in a relationship with myself,
my skin is my wealth,
i stand tall in good health,
reaching to the heavens like a tree
they want to tear me down, put me on a self,
even charge a fee
i wish they wood
they wish they could
i’m in a relationship with myself,
which makes me free
my skin is my wealth,
it’s the key
my skin is my wealth,
Promise you love me?
Be there for me?
Through wavering thoughts?
’Til empty seas?
Fight for me when...
Through thick and thin...
Until the end...
Where love begins...
Believe Me When I Say It
When I first met you, it felt like fate. I loved everything about you and couldn’t wait to spend every moment together. Your laugh was infectious and you were so enthusiastic and excited about everything this world has to offer. Everything about you was absolutely sincere and you had the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known.
Then, it seemed as if the world changed without telling you what it had it mind. You kept getting caught off guard by the cruelty of others and, over time, it begin chipping away at you. I always tried to be there, to reassure you that everything would be ok in the end, but could never quite convince you. You still laugh, only more weakly. You still get excited but it always seems like you temper it so you don’t come across as overeager. You have edited yourself to fit among everyone around you and they don’t notice, nor do they care, which only makes you continue to shrink against their presence.
I still love you. I still know you have that big heart that only wants the best for everyone else. When you share your meeker laugh now, I still hear your boisterous giggles. When you hold something that clearly amazes you and simply appreciate it, I still see the wonder exploding in your eyes. I still love you more than anything else in this world - It’s just that now I’m not sure you believe me when I say it.
To future me, if he ever comes back:
Take this advice from me (you), who is younger but much wiser from one month of relationship sobriety: he made you feel like you were and would never be enough. You felt small with him, like you had to trim and tuck away all the parts of yourself that didn’t match him. You saw your relationship as a yin-yang balance; he saw it as an expert one-man show with an extremely privileged tag-along (you were the tag-along). You remember feeling so comfortable with him, but what about all the times you felt so anxious you couldn’t eat, sleep, or even breathe? That’s not you. You are a naturally happy person. Yes, small things may stress you out more than the average person (or maybe not), but you do not have to feel that way. You deserve a person who will do everything in their power to make sure you never feel that way, someone who will honor your insecurities and tackle them with you, instead of making you feel like a burden and leaving you alone to “fix yourself.”
No. You deserve the sun, the moon, AND the stars. And you get to be picky and have high expectations because you are a total catch, the whole package, the kitten caboodle. So go on, go be picky. Take your time finding someone who meets ALL your expectations, and some that you didn’t even know you had. Shoot for the moon and don’t give up until you get there - no more landing among the “stars” and calling it good enough. Do not ask yourself if you could make it work with this guy or any guy. Ask yourself: “Is this my best, happiest, truest self? Does this person bring that out in me?” If the answer is no - BOY BYE!
So what if he’s standing right there, heart in his hands, promising everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ve been here before. You’ve seen this pattern, and it’s up to you to break it. This time, you are the one who gets to be in control because you know yourself and listen to yourself so much better now. This guy right here was the reason you stopped! You can be nice or just tell him to FUCK OFF.
You deserve so much more. Stop settling for anything less.
I hate to admit it. It’s been a while since I last thought of you. You with your sunny disposition and infectious smile.
It was the way the sun was shining today. The feel of spring in the air. The buzz of life and the hum of what’s to come.
An adventure. That’s what today smells like.
And who better to go adventuring with than you?
You with your dark golden hair that sparkles in the morning light. Unkempt and tangled. Long and fine.
You with your smooth pale skin, and dotted hazel eyes. Eyes that gleam with impish delight.
You with your remarkable humor and quick wit. How you make me laugh out loud.
Your uncanny ability to know what to say, how could I go adventuring without you today?
And can you forgive me for the time spent apart?
For allowing such nonsense to fog up my heart?
For forgetting to love you the way that I should?
For letting you think you weren’t any good?
A Love Letter to Myself
They say loving yourself is the best. But when I look at myself, there is very little about myself I find attractive. Not even my mind is pretty. It’s surronded with scars and torn and bloody. So I suppose the only thing I’m allowed to say to myself is that dispite all the flaws and scars you try to hide, there is someone waiting. Someone whom shall love me in the way I hope. No, that’s not quite right. If someone should love me, I suppose that someone should be me. Otherwise, what is love?
Happy birthday. You’re twenty six now and probably realizing how much closer to thirty you’re becoming. You’re recollecting the past of your achievements and fondest memories.
You are hard on yourself because you haven’t reached the milestones you imagined. You may not feel you have exceeded all of your goals, but you deserve to know how much you are admired for your strength and honesty. You are someone people can come to for anything. You are uniquely beautiful, intellectual, compassionate, funny, and talented. There is no one like you, who strikes a fire in me to push forward in my own life. You inspire me to spend time working towards my desires simply so I can share them with you. You are, undoubtedly, the most affectionate lover I will ever had been blessed to touch. Your skin is warm, soft, and sweet. Often times, I daydream about your wet and tender kisses. The silk of your curls caress my fingers as they wrap themselves like vine. The familiar touch of your hands is all I crave after the longest day. You are my peace, my reprieve, and my home. I can’t wait to begin a life beside you.
I love you.
My enemy, I love you.
In order for me to write this I must place a mirror at my desk. I struggle with what I see when not gazing at my reflection for reasons of pure shallow vanity. What I see when I look at you is a monster. I see the monster that has destroyed my world. I see a demon clothed in a womans body. I see me.
I want to destroy you. To bring you to your knees so that you may plead for absolution for the crimes you have committed against me. I loathe you and yet, I love you.
Just as much as you have demolished me you have breathed life and love into those dearest to my heart. You have placed yourself within harms path for them countless times and for this I thank you. I wish that I could say these things to you, face to mirror, but I am too stubborn.
I love you for caring for those less fortunate. Giving when you had nothing left to give. Because of this, my love for you is profound. It was not for the glory or the gloat. You did not do so to be placed on a feed on the Internet or to lord it over another person. How many people do you think you have fed? The ones that had no food. The ones that had not a decent pair of shoes that now walk within the shoes you provided. Shoe’s taken from your closet or backseat of car. Shoes that, like the clothing you also gave, you wish for today because they were your favorite.
If you think that no one saw you each time you ordered an extra meal at the local diner, a meal better then the one you ordered for me only to take it a block over and set it beside a person sleeping one the street.
I saw you.
I also heard you murmur quietly. Not wanting to disrupt a possible dream, but wanting them to have their meal while it was still hot and fresh, that dinner was on you.
I heard you.
I could smell the food and I could see your eyes begin to brim with tears. I could see that if you could, you would gladly feed them for a lifetime, care for them like your own.
How could you have hurt me so badly? How could you, a woman of such compassion do so much damage to me that I be left a twisted ball of pain and confusion? Why, my love, must you torment me.
With all the hate that fills my heart when I look at my reflection of you, I cannot deny that there is unwavering love for you just below the surface.
I hope someday that you could love me as much as you do those around you. That you could cover me with the wings of your protection and fierce determination to see that they are safe. That someday I may feel the power of your protection and fierceness of your devotion. That someday I can look out from behind the protection of you and see the fear within the eyes of those that dare to harm me. I hope someday you will protect me to the end like you have for the ones that need you.
If that should never come to be then I will still have love for you. I will love you for the times that you went hungry so that my children could eat. For the times that you would wear no coat so that they may have the finest. For the moment when you showed the greatest strength, desperately trying to push life back into their father. Never faltering. Pushing his chest then breathing into his lungs.
I will always hate you for not saving him, but I will always love you for trying your hardest. For keeping the composure necessary so as not to awaken my beautiful little boys to the sight of their mother struggling to bring life back into their father.
Nobody knows you as well as I do. I have watched you be left out in the cold. Abandoned and thrown to the wolves by the ones meant to see you safe. I watched as you yourself, became a wolf. I have been with you from the moment of your birth. I sat with you as you slept, only a child, in the snow with no shoes. Is that why you give of them so freely?
I have watched as you traded your means of protecting me so that you could feed my unworthy body. I have seen you support those around you so that they may meet their greatest potential, yet you have let me flounder in the failures of the world.
I turn my attention back to the mirror on my desk. I love you for the these things you have done, but I hate you, and you are my enemy for not having done them for me.
My enemy, I love you.