I'm beginning to forget what it feels like to be afraid.










and i love it.

Goodness,

I've got it bad.
I'm just ridiculously grateful that it's mutual.

Do what it takes to work through this appropriately.

DMM

It's silly, you see, because this week you've decided that you're a genius
And I've discovered I'm a mental work in progress.
And progress is a word I use a lot when speaking to you.
So for me to shut the door and not give you any room to grow, step forward, and progress when it comes to us,
Would make me look like a hypocrite.
But here's my dilemma, Precious to me, I'm terrified to lose you, and I've not yet had you. How does that make sense?
I am putting myself out there and all you do is watch. You let me in when you need warmth, but every other time I'm left out in the cold.
And it's smiles all the time, isn't it? It's butterflies when it's necessary and playful banter when our eyes break contact.
I want you closer, but you won't swoop in. I gave you the invite but you've forgotten to RSVP. And it's fine, dear boy, if that's how you are. It's fine if you have to number things to know what comes next. It's fine if I'm more of a chore than a playtime. It's fine if you flake, I understand completely. If that's how you are, then I accept and move on.
I can't make out the figure which you stand. Who do you wish to be? Where is your footing and in what direction do you mean to go?
Here's the thing, I need you to fight. And that's cliche and whatever, but if you want it come get it.
I have to find the courage to be fine without you. Without the idea of you, and face the fact that you very well might just walk away. And that's fine. I swear it, it's fine.
I've already gone forever without you, difference now is that you've left jittery footprints all over my heart and I don't ever want them to leave.

Confession:

I really don't want to be alone this Christmas.

Vent what you feel:

Unimportant
Loved from a distance
Forgotten
Taken for granted
Used
Like I need to earn dads love
Vulnerable
Nervous
Anxious
Stiff
Uncomfortable
Sad
Angry
Frustrated
Like I'm thinking really clearly
Victimized (Stupid)
Stressed
Bored
Alone
Freezing
Poor
Sick
Mistreated
High maintenance for awkward reasons
Caged in
Dreamless, which is hopeless
Messy
Emotional
Mental on some days
Dizzy
Shaky
Uninvited
Tied down
Growing pains
Writers block
Dramatic
Not ready
Overwhelmed
Restricted
Thoughtful
Packed
Awkward
Unfriendly
Soft
Cramps
Stupid
Like I lack inspiration
Like I can't laugh
Like I need something and I need it soon
Like I want a fucking cigarette
Or something strong to drink
Personal
Distant
Lack of confidence
Creative
Overlooked
Like I don't matter
Like I'm worth it but I'm really not sure
Too romantic
Panicky about Christmas and the New Year
Ridiculous
Disconnected
Disabled
Sick of waiting
Like letting go of all of the above.

Growing up

does not take as much time as you think.

I would love a glass of get the hell over it.

My dad writes me off like I'm a fucking six year old.
Even though he treats me like I don't matter, I know that I do.
Though he thinks I wreak of disobedience, and lack knowledge of the world-
I know where I stand and Who I stand for. And he has no idea.
No matter the fucking mistreatment my father bestows (bestows, Jenelle?) upon my family,
I'm not going to let it dictate my heart and my trust in humanity.
How horrible is it that the life figure God has apparently given me, that's supposed to lead me and represent strength and Christ in my life,
Is the one person I should trust, but can't. Should follow, but he loses me in his insignificance. His "Christ-like" calling has yet to be answered. Building my foundation as a young woman, he has already begun to fail.
And it's sad, you see, because I am the smarter in some instances. I am the adult when you consider the sacrifice and relationship between father and daughter.
I finally understand that people are poor excuses for problems. Let me explain myself:
Now that I am aware of my trust problems, my daddy issues, my pride based lack of dependency, and my aptness of implosion due to over exposure to intensity and power, I forfeit the right to blame the people that have planted these seeds. They are my problems now and labeling them with name-tags isn't going to make them go away any easier.

Gosh, I'm stuffing my emotions.
They're compacting.
They're fighting with each other.
They're plotting their way out of me.

And Oh my God, that man is stressed...