Not What It Seems

August 29, 2011


Love and devotion
At times most inanimate
Cold silence filling the voids
Trembling with fear
Avoidance reigns on high
Reeking of desperation
If only to not make waves
Comfortable bliss in denial
Fantasies crumbling
Fairy tales disappear
Reality too painful
Accountability kept at bay
Losing it all slowly
Finding it inched away
Everyone else to blame
Nothing defined or set in stone
Lest a promise actually be broken
Belief in yourself non-existent
Yet praise is the goal most sought
Growing apart daily
Turning away outstretched hands
Sincere in hopes to travel the perilous road
While guiding and helping
Never seems to be good enough
Double standards as the set standard
Refusal to look in the mirror
Or refusal to move from the line
Control the ultimate high
Respecting fear
Instead of commanding respect
Close minded views
Never to contemplate the other
No need for discussion
“Right” the gold among the copper
Self-pity and martyrdom
The tables turn once again
Mountains from mole hills
Brushing dust into a corner
Until mountains are made
Thin ice to skate
Emotionless and logical is professed
But logic is instantly struck down by emotion instead
Afraid of being alone
Others in company swimming in loneliness
Oblivion taking shape
Daggers of buried pain
Rip apart the fabric
Disappointment falling to the Earth
Drama of extremes
Silent films
Yet screaming horrors
Filling most days
Peaceful melodies only in slumber
Deafening noise in wake
Believe what you may
Though tomorrow it may all go away

©Ami May 2011

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More Emotional Waves

August 9, 2011


Finding something I wasn’t really even looking for still amazes me today.  While I connect with some people, I didn’t know or couldn’t even imagine just how well, and deeply, I would connect with others.  It is because of these connections that give me serenity during the tough times.  It is the deep feelings that overwhelm me with joy and love manifested through those that accept me and find joy in being around me.  Strangely enough, I still find myself unable to speak at times and guard what I say, choosing my words carefully, trying to bring sense to what seems like chaos falling from my lips.

Part of me is not sure whether what is happening is real or fantasy, and while  I don’t want to read too much into things that are quite simple, I cannot deny what it is I really long to be reality, not just the perception of a fantasy never to materialize.

Sometimes…okay, well, a lot of times…it is hard for me to hear the words from those in my past that are, after time apart, now a current part of my life, and whom I hope to always have in my life.  Why does their hindsight almost make me cringe?  Why did they guard themselves so much that it ended up pushing me away for so long?

Ironic, isn’t it, that here I guard my words at times, and I seem to be chastising those that have done the same thing as me.  I don’t always intentionally guard what it is I truly think and feel, and I know without a doubt that some of it is conditioning from the sickness I have called marriage for a while.  Then again, I feel I let my actions speak the words I have had a hard time saying out loud.  So many times my mind thinks faster than my mouth allows, so words jumble, and it has, finally, become something I am comfortable with.

Of course, maybe it’s because I’ve been told for so long that actions speak louder than words.

I do believe that actions speak louder than words to an extent, and while I try to outwardly express what I feel deep inside by my actions, I still feel the words in conjunction with actions are the most genuine and true.

Why tell me now, years later, that I “was the one that got away” and that nobody has compared to me; that everyone else comes in 2nd place to me, yet never really saying that, let alone actually acting on it before?  Why let something like that slip away if it is what you truly believe?  Why does it feel as if those statements are only lip service after the fact?

It leaves me dumbfounded as a few have sworn these statements to me, yet all of them (with one exception) discarded me so easily and seemingly used me when I invited them back into my life.  Granted, I feel that only 1 honestly, and with deliberation, used me in this fashion, though the feelings of being taken advantage of, or even feelings of being taken for granted, have peppered the renewed and changed relationships.

Yes, they all swore they wanted to marry me, and some still swear they do, but I do not see what it is they want from me, especially in regards to a marriage.  Why would I marry anyone without a clear understanding of what a marriage means to them?  I made the mistake of not insisting on clear definitions and expectations of marriage once…which was a very hard lesson learned, indeed.

I can’t even begin to fully describe my thoughts on marriage now, other than to say a few poignant notions, whether some view them as silly or not, they are for me to believe and compromise on as each situation dictates…and when true honest communication allows for my pragmatic nature to flow freely.

I feel that hand written vows or promises are more important and meaningful, to me at least, than the “traditional” ones I spoke almost 14 years ago.  Then again, maybe it’s a bit of bitterness shining through as I reflect upon how certain traditional vows are used as a dogmatic form of manipulation and stipulation in an effort to exact control.  This, of course is without even including the possibility of the definitions and expectations being absolutely and honestly unrealistic to one, or both partners, especially if no true definition or explanation of what those words truly meant to each other was spoken prior to uttering the words of the promises in front of witnesses on the wedding day.  I truly feel that I am not the only person who has come to realize that so very often, and normally only after a breaking point is reached, that clarification from the partners of the marriage contract regarding what those words will lead to as far as expectations, and what, if any, “deal-breakers” would be included with each of those vows, should have been thoroughly discussed before that fate-filled, and quite often fairy-tale, day.

Unfortunately, my eyes are drooping at this moment, even though I have so much more to write, and I must continue riding this emotional wave on another day.

Emotional Waves

August 8, 2011


I can’t seem to write out my thoughts, which has been the easiest way for me to express my life, and now it makes me wonder just what the Hell is going on with me.

How do I say that I am in pain…feeling such sorrow and loneliness…yet feel hope and love?

How do I say that I am scared…yet feel so confident?

I am so very nervous about being vulnerable, yet I ache for the comfort in knowing that I can be totally and utterly vulnerable.

Maybe my goals and aspirations are too lofty, but carrying the burden of all-too-real responsibilities is taking its toll on me.  I was too lost at one point to even realize I had such dreams, and in those dreams were pieces of me…my heart and soul were scattered there…and while I tried to conform, I gradually lost my passions until it seemed as if I was only a shell of who I once was.  Then again, I’ve grown older since then as well, so some feelings of losing myself may be that I actually became a bit more mature and wiser.  At least that’s the way I chose to think of it during the darkest moments to keep the morose thoughts at bay.

Dark thoughts and feelings, including resentment, replaced a bit of the shreds of my being that were drifting away in the breeze.  I’m amazed and disgusted, looking back on it now, that I was barely much more than just a shell of what could even remotely be considered a human being.  I was hurt enough that my soul seemed to be drawn out of my body excruciatingly slow…a torture I wish on no other.

I was an inanimate object, the easy target of ridicule and shame for a time, then came the insidious rejection without so much as a word.  I felt so completely used and violated.

I often question which one hurts the most – the slaps, punches, chokes, pushes, screams, sarcasm, rage, and belittling remarks, or the avoidance and denial of what brought the psychosis to a head.  I am still ashamed that I gave in to going down the road of playing an abuser and a martyr to match the intensity and, in a sense, passion of the relationship, and only for a small moment in time, just to try to keep the peace, did I give in to the avoidance and denial.

None of it really makes any sense; it doesn’t seem logical or genius.  Some genius may truly be madness, but really, just how far mad does it have to get for it be considered utterly logical and bright?

Why did I venture out and see the world I had been missing?  Why, of all the times in my life, did I let his words push me over the edge?  Why did I find so much around me tempting, all while hearing the often said cliché, over and over, of “the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence, until you make the jump and realize it is nothing but the same as the side you left, including the work it takes to keep it going”?

Unfortunately, the people who seem to say that the most are the ones that were discarded and still bitter, or simply believing in the fairy tale that they were so much better than the other person and of some better moral or ethical fabric.  What’s even more sad is the holier-than-thou statement is what ends up leaving battered spouses (whether physically or mentally) staying right where they are and they resign themselves to constant toxicity to pray that they never hear those guilt inducing words.  Oh, there are plenty of other disgusting comments said in reply to ending relationships specifically (especially marriage), and I could spend hours simply dissecting the manipulative tactics and bullying remarks that are most often more damaging than helpful, but that, my friends, is for another time.

I am absolutely not a saint, in fact, far from it, however, I cannot, and will not, take full blame as it was a partnership, no matter how toxic it was in all reality and what I brought as detrimental to the table.

Now my mind shifts to hearing the pain and shame in her voice that left me quietly sobbing.  No matter her downfalls, she does not deserve the troubling times she is facing, and I wish I could take the pain and stress away from her.  She is, after all, only my mother, yet I can’t simply snap my fingers and have it go away for her, no matter how much I wish I could.  Through all the pain we dealt to each other in the turbulence of our relationship, we grew closer and finally learned respect and how to love each other more deeply than I ever thought we could.

From her unrelenting anger and hurt that left me wondering how to even think I could be more than simply the devil incarnate, came me, as a woman, who has a hard time doing many things, but who has always ended up surviving, and in some cases actually thriving.  In hindsight, as I look at her through the eyes of someone walking in some eerily similar footsteps, including motherhood, her actions truly were understandable.  From her constant cries of betrayal and lies, came me, a woman, who tends to trust quite blindly and tends to believe in the possibility of forgiveness and change.  It’s astonishing to me that in the process of trying to be the complete opposite of her, I find so much in common with her.  I see myself purposely trying to find, and ride, that fine line between extremes, as I know in my heart and soul that there is so much of her that is worthy of praise, and so much of her that is worthy of forgiveness, as she did what she did for the sake of survival, not to be someone worth hating.

My true nature is very giving, yet I find myself at times, wondering if I am that way only to receive something in return.  I question my own motives occasionally, after all, most people question whether I am genuine at all in regards to my incentive for doing certain things.

Even though I am not a glorified soul, I am most certainly not a monster, so why do I feel like I am, especially when I actually speak from my heart and soul about my wants and needs?  Why, when I actually stand my ground, am i seen as something hideous and worthy of contempt?  Why, when I was opening myself like a book, were things so hard for others to take that I was left standing alone?

Does any of that really matter anyway?  I really don’t know if it really matters, but having so many unanswered questions haunts me at times…such as now.

Sitting here in almost absolute silence make my thoughts seem so loud, and they keep me from slumber this night.  The words born from these almost psychotic thoughts are racing and non-coherent; partial sentences that probably only make sense to me.

And now, I decide, that another time may be best for finishing these thoughts…