I’m sorry. I’ve disappeared again.
I am not sure about you, but I have my favorite blogs, and when my trusty Internet friend of words goes missing, I think, “Hey! Where’d you go?” It’s sort of like the boyfriend that doesn’t call you back… Or like the colleague that is too busy to reply to your e-mail. In a way, your blogger friend’s words, ideas, and pictures have become a part of your day. Or at the very least, they’ve played a part in how you like to unwind at the end of the day.
Normally, I don’t ever get too personal with the specifics about my life because I’ve always felt like you wouldn’t want to hear about that. I typically like to write about things that we all have in common, but tonight (maybe because I am rundown and maybe because my walls are slipping a bit) I’d like to share a little something with you.
Is that okay?
There are a lot of things I am, and there’re a lot of things I am not. But the one thing I am is loyal… and to a fault, really. Honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to write to you all this past week and a half because I hurt right now, and I am having a hard time taking my own advice. Two people I love a great deal sometimes act as if having a relationship with me is work that they can’t be bothered to do, as if I am an inconvenience. I’ve been feeling like a burden in a box for a long, long time. I’ve been feeling like I am not good enough, and there’s nothing worse than feeling like a trouble to the ones you love and revere the most in this world. And it’s even worse when you can’t seem to communicate with them because they can’t hear what you have to say. And it’s particularly hard when all the words you have can’t change a thing.
I’ve heard this before: people don’t change. Sometimes I feel like I believe it.
So I am putting it out there. I can’t write to you all right now because I am loyal to you. Does that make sense? I couldn’t live with myself if I put on my writer’s voice when I just wasn’t feeling it genuinely. Every time I write to you, I make sure I am coming from a sincere, honest place. If I didn’t, I would feel like a fake, a fraud, and worse… a hypocrite. If I wrote about love when I wasn’t feeling love, I’d be wrong… Or if I wrote about forgiveness when I was personally having a hard time turning the other cheek, I’d be wrong.
I know I will come around; I always do. I know that these people in my life are the people I love the very most, and I know, like so many times before, I can learn to put a smile on my face. I can be brave and act as if their actions never hurt me. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again. It’s just that this time, I can’t say that the wounds I carry around within me won’t surface again. They’ve been bubbling up so much because as I get older, I am learning that sharing your life with someone is how your show and experience love. And though I am getting older, I am learning it’s still so hard to forgive and forget when you’re the only one that wants to try. One-way streets are the loneliest kinds.
To the ones that love me to the ends of the Earth but seem to never truly understand me and see me for the woman I am, I love you, respect you, and cherish you from afar. If it takes another lifetime of putting on my brave face so that I can have a relationship with you on your terms, I’ll do that. If it takes 100 more journeys, me going to you, I’ll gladly do it. And if it takes years upon years of me succumbing to your ways, I’ll do it just so I can pivot in your world for a little while…
I’ll do it all… again and again.
Just give me time for now…