Love Hurts. (Yeah, yeah.)

I wrote a poem about this that is published in the book Heart of Courage but I wanted to talk a bit about this subject, as it is definitely something that defines who I am and it’s something I deal with every day. The idea that, if or when you decide to love someone fully, go “all-in,” you do it knowing full well that, (unless by some twist of fate, you die before everyone else you love), that you will one day experience excruciating, mind-altering, life-changing, gut-wrenching pain. I’ve run from this my whole life in one way or another.

I think I’ve been trying to prepare myself for my parents deaths my entire life, (or from the time I learned of death). Not to go all Sylvia Plath, but for a sensitive like me, learning about and trying to grasp death, and not just your own, but dealing with the deaths of loved ones, well, it’s a daunting prospect. Maybe, even, it is part of why I moved far away from my hometown and put down roots elsewhere. (Deep self-analysis going on here.)

I’ve never had a 30-plus year relationship with anyone before, so there was a time when, after five or seven years with my hubs, I began to get antsy and restless. Noting that I thought I was “all-in” when I married him, there still came a time when that restlessness kicked in. I’ll never forget that time of my life. I really began to struggle, because I knew in my heart that I loved my husband, but trying to shove down my natural inclination to bolt after the new wore off (which I had done my whole life) was difficult. It was one of the very few, and the most powerful and life-changing time, I felt God or the Universe or something deep and profound, speak directly to me. It basically said, “If you leave him, you will cause your sons more unbearable pain, (they had already been through my divorce from their father), your daughter will suffer greatly and will be changed forever. You’ll destroy your husband, a good man who loves you profoundly. Your own life will be a series of failed relationship after failed relationship, leaving an earthquake of damage behind you, everywhere you go.” Something like that. (I was literally shown a mental picture of the flux-capacitor from Back to the Future. If you don’t know what that is, just picture a huge fork in the road.)

I had a good cry, and still knowing I was messed up inside, I made the conscious choice to stay and truly commit and make it work.

All of that to get to the point, that I am so afraid of being left/hurt/broken by others, that I tend to bolt. This has affected every single relationship in my life. Family, friends, boyfriends, husbands… you name it.

Back when I made that decision to stay, it seemed to come with a promise. A promise that my life would go much better and easier, if I just made the right choice then and there. I do believe that has been the case. My life has not been perfect since then, and like anyone’s marriage, ours has had its ups and downs, but I can honestly say that we are better today than we have ever been.

I’m an “over-communicator’ and if you know me much, you know this. I have made sure that he and I have open lines of communication, even though I often have to take hours or days to really dig out of him what is on his mind. (He, like a lot of men, is not an over-communicator.) But we are so close. On our 20th (I think it was) we were asked at a restaurant if we were newlyweds. The waitress had noticed how we smiled and laughed together and held hands across the table. (We still do this. It’s sickening, really.)

My point is, every month, every year, I go more and more “all in” with my hubs. Because I am learning more and more every day how to be whole and healed, which helps me learn how to commit and love just a little more, a bit deeper.

This scares the ever-loving shit out of me.

Unless I go first, I will experience the worst pain ever, if he leaves me or passes away. It will ruin me, I know this. I know it because I have never known love like this before, but I’ve been hurt badly by people I cared about, and I know this kind of pain will blow all of that away.

This is scarier than anything else in my life. I don’t want to know that pain, but it is absolutely part of going all-in. Love is amazing, but sometimes Love Hurts. Intentionally or not. Putting your heart fully out there is opening yourself up to immense pain. I still haven’t perfected it. But I am committed to trying. The only other relationship I know that compares is my love for my kids and grands. A couple super-close friends.

But I have spent years perfecting the “dine – and – dash” of relationships. Most recently (since I’ve been married) I’ve been doing it with friendships. I’ve been a very sucky bad friend. I’ve at times avoided people I care about. I’ve even seemed to be pushing them away. This year I realized this a bit more, because, well, I am continually working on me.

If you are a friend that felt any connection with me and have been hurt by me pushing you away, I want to apologize. I’ve been a scaredy-cat. I’m afraid of being hurt, so I hurt others first, even though it took me some time to realize it. I don’t want to be that person.

And, of course, that said, there are a very few people I have pushed away absolutely on purpose (boundaries) and this is usually men who are misogynists or anyone that I feel I just do not connect with and we are just too different. I don’t have time or energy left to try to explain to someone wanting to be my friend, why I am the way I am on a daily basis, so, often times, I just cut off that relationship, be at peace. Go find someone more like you, if that is what you need. (That’s a very small few.)

Yeah, Love Hurts, and sometimes stinks, like the song says. I love people. I don’t always like them. They don’t always like me. I am so cool with that. Not gonna change me so that you can like me, but I am going to try harder to be kinder and gentler and friendlier to those I do genuinely connect with. I’m fighting my own demons over here, so please be patient. I’m learning.

The book Heart of Courage is available on Amazon-you can search my name to find it. It was written by myself and three other amazing poets from around the country: Nicholas Trandahl, Fiona Summerville, and Kelsi Rose. Pick it up if you have a mind to.

Peace Out

Ode to the Atlantic Ocean and Beaches

 

(Flagler Beach, Old Salt, and the Hammock beaches up and down the coast)

 

As I come over the bridge, I see you there, on the horizon.

You are the horizon, and already my excitement builds.

I say out loud, “There you are, ocean, my ocean.”

It’s a tradition and something I can’t make myself stop saying.

 

We pile our chairs and water out and take them to the sand.

As soon as my feet touch the damp heat of it, I know I’m almost there,

like the front yard of the house I grew up in.

I’m almost home.

 

We park our things, settle in,

then immediately must go down to the shore.

My eyes automatically scan the plethora of things

beneath my feet on the way down.

 

I’m looking out for crabs and other living creatures,

making sure I don’t cut my foot on a broken bit of shell.

Occasionally, I stop and pick up a shell, ask myself if it is worthy

of washing off and taking home to add to my ever-expanding collection.

I have so many that I have to be pickier about what I take home,

lest they take over my living room entirely.

 

My eyes look up and see the crashing wave coming towards me, as if to say, “Hello, again! It’s you! Where’ve you been?” And I mentally answer back, “I’m here every week. I always come back. It’s so lovely to see you, my friend… my ocean.”

Hubs and I lock eyes and smile. We know we are truly home now.

The next hour or more is spent walking the edge along surf and sand, periodically stopping to admire something, watch a surfer or para-sailor, going back to sit and grab a sip of water.

He says how we’re on vacation, he says it every week. It’s tradition. I answer back, “Yup.”

But we live here now, nearby, not too far, just over the big bridge.

I can’t really explain the draw, the love, the longing, the belonging I feel here. Perhaps I lived or died here in some previous form of existence. All I know is that it feels like home.

I’m finally home.

Leaves for Lesser Creatures

(I wrote this last fall and I find myself thinking of it again. Can’t wait for those gorgeous orange leaves and cooler temps. Published in Heart of Courage, a book of poetry.)

 

Looking out at the breeze

As it knocks at the leaves

Some fall

Others don’t

Their colors like a drug trip

Colors only the imagination can dream up

But here they are

Real

Touchable

A signature of a Creative Mind

Showing off

To lesser creatures

 

In Head and Heart

When my mind won’t keep still

I get lost in daydreams and nightmares

Of demons both real and imagined

The monkey mind off its leash

Causing chaos

The mind revisiting things best left alone

In the darkness of the past

But there I go, digging them up again, turning them ‘round

Thinking that this time, this time

I’ll figure them out and release them finally

Never to be haunted again

But they stay, lodged quite firmly, comfy in their home

In my head

And in my heart

 

Artistic Priority (When My Worlds Collide)

I’ve been writing for many years, but that’s not to say there weren’t times that I went for long spaces of inertia with writing. During one of those down-times I began to get into painting. It felt like the right thing to do at the time; focus on something else for a while.  (I began writing full-time in ’09 and have written ten novels, and have put together and published other’s work as well, and now write a lot of poetry.)

Painting has settled into a spot in my life I didn’t even know I had. It soothes me, inspires me; it’s meditation as well as creation. It’s therapy for me.

When I first began to feel like I was figuring it out (to any degree) I got very excited and set up this site to sell artwork and my books, as well. I still sell one on occasion, but now my writing has kind of taken it’s place back (first place), for my time and attention. It may be possible to give 100% to both things, but if so, I don’t know how to manage it. So, as writing has always been there, a part of my DNA, I’d say, it will stay top priority for now. I just don’t have time to write and paint and try to market and sell books AND artwork. So, I’ll leave the ones up that I have listed for sale, and may continue to sell one from time to time, but painting has settled into a spot that’s just for me. It’s a special thing, like massage for the soul.

Recently I dreamt up ideas for two new fiction novels, so those will keep me very busy for a while, and I have a poetry compilation due to publish next summer. I plan to do more anthologies for young, aspiring writers and poets as well, so this must be my focus…. at least for now.

It’s very cool that art (painting) discovered me (or I discovered it, either way). It’s become a very welcome part of my life. For now it is priority two, but it is still very special for me. I adore combining both of my loves when possible (like the above poem posted on a piece of my artwork). It’s the best of both worlds.

There is very little I need

 

Life is made up of many little epiphanies throughout it. I had a mini one today. There is very little I need.

I have a good roof over my head and more than enough food within reach when I’m hungry. I have a soft bed to sleep in. I have a man who loves me freely and without condition, and a handful of friends that do the same.

I realized that–if someone wanted to get me a gift today–I’d be hard-pressed to name anything.

When I was younger (and still on occasion) I loved to shop. There was always a list of things somewhere that I wanted, some purse or pair of shoes that I thought I might die if I didn’t get. With age comes wisdom in many areas. I don’t ever remember being this content or having such a lack of need to shop, purchase or acquire.

The needs I feel in my life now tend more towards those things less tangible that I can’t grasp in my hands. I’d like to have more influence, to expand my boundaries so that I might reach someone or teach someone something that I came by the hard way, that I might make a difference in someone’s life.

I’d like to share my art with the world.

I’d like to pave pathways for those that come behind me, to point the way and show them how NOT to stumble.

It was kind of shocking to see and know the difference in my desires from then and now. I’m so much happier now, so much more content. I seek for soul-affirming, spirit-reaching, life-affirming things and people.

Music, art, poetry, the thrill of finding a new fiction novel that will transport me to a new world, a new poet that will encourage and inspire me, these are where it’s at for me, and still, as I enjoy these things I realize more fully every moment

There is very little I need.