Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Promises
promises not kept
diluting goodwill and trust
the demise of love
Tag: distrust
Angst
Redux
Anxiety and apprehension refusing me calmness.
No refuge in my thoughts.
Grown babies contributing to the current
State of the world. I’m feeling
Tremors and unease, continually.
About Truth
you are innocent
until proven guilty
until you are
no longer innocent
in other words
i will believe you
until
i can’t believe you
Rinse, Repeat… Again
going down that road
again
trying one more time
again
that saying sticks in my head
again
doing the same thing and expecting different results
again
it’s madness
again
Paradise Lost
Storms rage destruction but will turn to calm, and then disappear. Following a weather event, the beings of nature will re-emerge, and continue as if never put on hold. Life keeps on going.
I find myself wishing for that pattern after a betrayal or a disappointment. If only let-downs were this easy. I know we can move on from emotional devastation but thinking it won’t afflict us again doesn’t seem to. Getting back to trust is difficult. It’s like trying to put on size ten pants when you are a size sixteen.
Trusting implies you are not suspicious. Doubt doesn’t even enter your vocabulary because there has been no reason for it to exist. Until – “enter devastating event”. The before was so good that the during was unbelievable but making the after so predictable.
When bad things happen, you don’t come away unscathed. The lingering pain and fear hang on. Millions of thoughts occupy scenarios played out over and over again. It’s an unrelenting torrent of destruction in your head and your heart. Created by another, but a continuing saga you perpetuate.
Having deep trust comes from someone earning it for an apparent reason. And losing it means a much harder return to normal. Actually, almost impossible.
All I wish for is Hurricane Personal Tragedy to be behind me.
The Five Ws + One Bonus
who are you?
who are you really?
what you show, beauty
what you feel, ugly
where do you see this going?
where do you think?
when you laugh, it’s only all the right things
when you cry, in private
why do you hurt me?
why do you always hurt me?
how you act, pretentious
how i feel, awful
End Of Innocence
One of the most powerful art pieces from Burning Man: A sculpture of two adults after a disagreement, sitting with their backs to each other. Yet, the inner child in both of them simply wants to connect. Age has many beautiful gifts but one we could live without is the pride and resentment we hold onto when we have conflicts with others. The forgiving, free spirit of children is our true nature. Remember this when you feel stubborn.
~ https://me.me/i/one-of-the-most-powerful-art-pieces-from-burning-man-9259489~
seething in silence, hot tears to the inside
wanting resolution in a war of no words
terrified to lose you but only wanting to win
the walls are getting thicker, higher
harder to tear down
we are a problem not wanting to be solved
Feeding Intimacy
The chase included all the delicacies love snacks on, fills up on even.
I kept coming back for more. You provided, I was hooked.
I could be satiated whenever I needed.
You kept your buffet stocked. A beautiful presentation.
I never felt hungry, rather I was full.
Years went by, I remained well fed.
We were happy. For a bit.
Then more years passed and the spread was less colorful, it didn’t speak to me.
And then, I began to notice less and less on the table before me, even some spoilage.
Hmmm, I’m hungry. That’s new.
I mentioned the pangs, I cried that I was hungry, I hurt going to sleep at night.
You ordered take-out, we ate together. For a bit.
Going down it felt like fake food, second-hand and ABC cud.
A temporary fix to fill a gaping hole, only as required.
But then you starved me. I lost so much.
When I started nourishing myself, I determined the menu.
I think I’ll pass on the next feast.
I’d like to live.
Something’s Changed
“You can’t have a love relationship with
someone who is not your equal.”
Dan Barker – Godless
This quote struck a chord with me, deeply and unexpectedly. The subject matter of the book dealt with an entirely different topic than the emotions it evoked in me. I was instantly saying “Yeah, I have to agree!” and pretty strong for that matter. Being that intense also made me feel rather uneasy. It prompted me to understand my reaction.
We feel love on so many different levels and for so many different relationship types. When I think of a relationship, I think a connection. It’s not always love, sometimes it’s just a brief circumstantial situation that brings you together but even there, relationships require a level of understanding of each other to make that connection. And that connection seems to be a level of respect for the other person. You can look at them and feel a connection or equal because you see something in them that you identify with, and a factor that puts you at ease with them. Presumably, because they are like you, even if just a little bit.
So in a love relationship, do we require that sameness to remain connected? I think that is what startled me when I said YES so strongly to myself. That’s the real internal question I was asking myself. What does that really mean for me, and more specifically, for love relationships?
Going through a downturn with your significant other certainly doesn’t help, but it was probably the biggest reason this even made it to the forefront of my thought process. It evidently makes it more glaringly obvious that there is a problem in the love connection.
I’m sensitive to it because of my own fracture. This is why I reacted strongly to that statement. The equal part is that the balance of love and respect has been disrupted. It upset the equilibrium and connection we previously shared. And the reason I keyed in on not being able to have a love relationship with someone (MY someone) is because I didn’t feel equal to him anymore. Maybe I never did and only wanted to think that we always were when in reality we’d been un-connected all along? Maybe he couldn’t be the person I thought he was out of refusal to see the man he really was. Who wants to ever see a lesser picture than what you think you connect to?
All I know is that I do feel like he is not my equal. I feel that he is somehow less than what I fell in love with so many years ago. And he isn’t even close to being what I need now. I’m not trying to say that I’m better than him, just that this ‘female in the relationship’ is at a different place in her heart than she was. The growth and the change that we’ve been through together has left us with different levels of being. The dissatisfaction I’m experiencing attests to that difference.
“Love, if it has any special meaning at all, is reserved for those who are dear to me, for those who have earned my admiration, for those whom I find attractive or lovable.” Again from Dan’s book, struck me because of this particular time in my relationship. I’m lacking those things that would indicate I’m feeling love for my significant other.
These statements smacked me upside the head when I needed it most; my frustration level and unhappiness barometer climbing ever higher. Isn’t it funny how it sometimes happens like that? I’ve had so much personal inner turmoil for the last 6 months, much of it stemming from my personal ‘love’ relationship. It is broken, not connected and I don’t know if I want it to be anymore. Still challenging myself to go on…. just because I really don’t have any answers or direction yet. But then these statements push my buttons. Prodding for decisions that I really don’t want to make, but are necessary for personal harmony. I need release. I just don’t know what that release means yet.
*Personal note – Before I start getting emails about my relationship, this was written a long time ago. 🙂
Cook, Meditate, F#@k
Pausing my distressed state, I distracted myself diving deeply into gastronomy. Immersed and focused on fusing the flavors of carefully selected ingredients, I relished the finished product. Ingesting my creation, finding enjoyment in it, allowing a small measure of an easement to occur in my current state of dysfunction.
The problem at hand begged for inner reflection. Waking every morning was a ritual of opening the eyes and viewing out my bedroom window, just staring at the trees and listening to the sounds of nature. Sometimes for hours. Processing, mulling over and remembering every moment of pain. What felt like agony and torture initially gradually allowed a sense of understanding to move into the grey matter.
A deep need to release anger and frustration created a passion for a familiar act. I required the physical focus, a hungry attack on the flesh. It was an attempt at duplicating intensity, replacing pain with pleasure. And it was had.
The process helped.
I got through my trauma.
I Write Her 