A Love Letter

  
To the future:

I promise to love you.
I promise to tell you I love you.
I promise to nurture you.
I promise to protect you to the best of my abilities from danger, stress, and heartbreak.
I promise to not consider your life an accessory to my own, but to respect and honor that this life is your life.
I promise to celebrate your achievements and discipline your wrongdoings.
I promise to provide you an education outside of the classroom involving good music, art, travel, religion.
I promise to support your goals.
I promise to give you the space to grow into your own.
I promise to put you first.
I promise comfort when life gets hard.
I promise soothing when things get scary.
I promise to provide you a stable home with ample necessities.
I promise to instill in you self love and self worth.
I promise communication.
I promise to shield you for as long as I can from the struggle life.
I promise you a life past 18years.
I promise you will learn to swim.
I promise laughter.
I promise your siblings.
I promise to read with you.
I promise to sing with you.
I promise to listen when you speak.
I promise to hear you when I listen.
I promise to be an example of selflessness.
I promise to consider my life an open book for you to read and learn from.
I promise open communication.
I promise to strive to help make your life more expansive, more exhilarating, more fulfilling than my own.
I promise that structure will be a part of your life.
I promise the love of God will be apart of your life.
I promise you an extended family of aunts, uncles, teachers, neighbors, and mentors to love with, to laugh with, and to guide you throughout your life.

I love you from a place so deep within me that the depths of my love are uncharted waters.
I consider your future existence a current blessing pushing me to be my greatest me for me now, so that I can be my greatest me for you later.
I think of you in all that I do.
I live for you now and always…

Mom

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Bad Habits

  
I’ve got a habit that’s scary to admit.
You see, “love” is a difficult thing for me.
Not in the sense that it’s hard to fall
but that I always seem to fall.
I have a habit of loving people more than they love me.
I have a fear that sits in my gut.
You see, “love” is a scary thing for me.
I fall in love and fall real hard
and give my all and some.
I’m afraid in love.
This is a new truth for me.
I always thought it was truly astounding
that I could continue to believe in love when it had deceived me time and time again.
I bought into the idea that I was resilient, not stupid
because I always gave love a second chance. Continue reading

Two Days. A Breakup Story

  
Two days.
I sunk and drowned in despair and confusion for two days.
I didn’t eat for two days, consuming only liquor.
I rolled around in my misery, becoming filthy with doubt and anger and grief
for two days.
I allowed my happiness to be fully dependent upon someone else for two days.
I couldn’t breathe for two days.
I went over all the what ifs, and why nots, and what went wrong for two days.
For two days everything took so much effort.
Getting out of bed was a chore, for two days.
Washing was exhausting, for two days.
I let pain set up camp in the deepest parts of my being and corrode my spirits from the inside out and take over my mind and hurt me…for two days.

And then day three.

I remembered, I’m in love with me.
I stopped drowning and swam to the surface on day three.
I washed my face and hands and body of the misery and doubt and anger and grief and saturated my skin with peace and serenity and love and music, on day three.
I remembered that my happiness came from me on day three.
I went over my future plans, made new plans, considered better possibilities, welcomed all and any possibility on day three.
On day three I moved with the energy of a good night’s rest.
I showered, biked, walked, sang, danced on day three with ease.
I smiled on day three.
I smiled and allowed my love of me to surface from deep within me where laughter and music flow freely, and let the self love flow from my pores like rain from the clouds, and closed my eyes and felt the love envelope me and warm me and heal me…on day three.

A Love Song

DO you know you?
I didn’t know me.
I knew my name, what size shoe I wear
I knew how I liked my hair and what books I read
I knew my weight, complexion, astrological sign
But I didn’t know me
I knew what flavour ice cream I enjoyed
I knew where exactly the moles on my face made their homes
I knew which drinks I liked and knew I didn’t like drugs or being high
But I didn’t know me
I knew confrontation use to make me cry
I knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation anymore
I knew where I kept my socks and what I liked for breakfast
My phone number
My favourite number
My birthday
My eye colour
My favourite colour
I knew my shirt size
The prescription for my eyes
My address
But I didn’t know me.
Then I got to know me.
I looked at my bare body in the mirror. I studied me up and down.
I walked with myself thru the parks and among trees and listened to the way nature said my name.
I started listening when my spirit, not my mouth, would speak.
I opened up to acknowledge when I was right but also wrong.
I went out with me, and noted what made me laugh.
I talked to myself; I may sound crazy, but I did.
I answered myself too.
I asked honest questions and took the time to formulate honest answers.
I started to fall. Was this love? I started to know myself. Was THIS love?
I was falling in love.
And I fell like rain in summer; quick and warm.
Not narcissism, but appreciation.
Full of beauty, and I didn’t mean my face.
Loyal, almost to a fault, I am.
A dreamer, trying to stuff several different lifetimes of happiness into one.
I’m funny. Like hysterically comical.
I laugh from my gut, and cry from my heart.
When I suffer it’s deep and when I’m happy I fly.
Short fused I can be and defensive when old insecurities present themselves.
Negativity use to consume me, but I’m more at peace in positivity.
Now, I’m actively knowing me. And in knowing me I’m loving me.
Love is in me for me from me.
Not giving up me for a he or a she or a we or a they.
I’m good loving me.
Today is my birthday; the day I give birth to loving me. All of me. The only “me” I get.