Days before Yesterday

I was just reading previous posts. I really did use the term "love." I
meant adore. Right? It wasn't "love." Right?

Sent from my iPhone

I haven’t exhaled since you

He would lay his hands on my cheeks and kiss me. He’d keep kissing me. His hands would leave my face, to leave fingerprints all over my skin. He’d rest his head on the space in between my shoulder and my chest. I’d look away. I’d lose my grip from his hips. As he’d pause right in between me, I’d let out the deepest sigh, never to exhale. I haven’t exhaled since… He’d keep kissing me. As we lay, I’d feel his look. I couldn’t close my eyes. Not for one second. As I’d slightly begin to rest my lids, I’d quickly open them, bigger each time I caught myself doing so. I couldn’t close my eyes, because every time I would, I would see you.

When he would do what you once did, when he would try to do what you once did, I would hurry to swipe my fingers underneath my eyes, before he could see, before he could kiss…the tears. I’d brush his hand off my arm as he’d pull my arm hair. I’d pull back as he’d bite in between. It wasn’t you. It’ll never be you until its really you.

I think its time for…

Change. No I won’t delete the blog (again). I’m going to revamp. I can only inspire, challenge, love and embrace you by inspiring, challenging, loving and embracing myself, naturally.

I have these fears…I recited them over and over my head while driving home the other day because I know I’d have to face them once i got home.

Fear of:

1. Commitment
2. My heart
3. Replacement
4. Not living up to my full potential
5. Touch
6. The second to last Him (although someone close mentioned “he’s scared of you”)

…there are more..but those are the ones that have been lingering

All in all…revamp, rejuvenating…me…so I can share myself to the world..cause after all sharing is caring, right?

you used to make me wonder

True – Brandy

A.Hamilton

He’s amazing. He heals my hurt with his hurt and kills me with his hope. 

Her Heart – Anthony Hamilton

Teach me this time

I taught him the that when he runs his fingers from the tip of my fingers to the top of my arm it’s called feathering. I taught him that the way he embraces me, the way he places his arm around my waist, as he rests his chin on my shoulder it’s called spooning. But as he grabbed my hand yesterday, in back of the car of our friends car…when he flew a spoon of ice cream in my mouth, he taught me. As he told me that he sees himself in my words, feels like he’s near me when I write, he taught me. When he took two steps closer as I took one step back…when I walked away, he pulled me in and said, “its okay to be scared…it’s okay, we can be scared” and I finished his sentence by saying, “as long as we’re scared together?”…as he leaned in and answered me with a kiss, he taught me. 

He teaching me that I deserve anything but ordinary. He’s teaching me how to adore out loud. He’s teaching me to adore myself out loud. He’s teaching me to not hold back something that can be amazing one day. He’s teaching me to not be scared of tomorrow when I’m in today. He’s teaching me that I’ve been wrapped in teaching the last him(s) how to love, that I held out on loving myself. He’s teaching me that while I was  praying for nothing more than to teach the last him to let himself fall, to let the “us” be natural, for love is natural, I held back my naturalness, I held back my adoration from myself. I forgot to realize that maybe I need to be taught. Please teach me everything, all the way back to step one.

It may not last, for I’ll fly 46 states away from him…but for right now he’s rekindling my hope, rejuvenating the school days love in me, he’s rescuing me after the savings that have emptied me. So before I leave, I’m just asking for this, for the next days, for the next moments we create, the next nights we spoon, keep teaching me. Let me rest my wings, and teach me. 

What is this

You have me sitting on my mattress, thinking of “us.” There can’t be an “us,” its as if we don’t deserve to be an “us,” not yet.  We can’t seem to find each other, even when we play as each other’s reflection. I scream, you only catch the echoes. I take a step back, you take two steps forward, only to apologize. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be distant with and still want you to tell me to come closer. The fact that I’ve gotten as close to you to be open for you to hurt me, hurts. You say you love me, and for that reason I can’t love you. I don’t believe it. Do I want to believe it? I do, I not only want to believe it, I want to say it, feel it. But if I do, then it becomes true, you make it real, and I’m scared that when I’m ready to accept it, you won’t be there.  How can you love me? Love me and still hurt me? Be blind of how you hurt me? Why do I have to explain? Why have I caught myself sighing heavier when I think of you? Why the more I want, the less you give?  How can you act as if I haven’t shared everything of me with you? How can you make me feel as if I’m that stranger you pass by everyday? Why can’t we find our true feelings in between the silence, in between our sighs? Are we purposely sabotaging “us”? Am I?

You can be silent for two-three days, still I  wonder what you’re writing as I’m driving. You can say hello then disappear, still I hold my breathe. I can’t. I’m done, still I await for you to say I’m not.

hi.

me: alright, I’m gone

him: you’re going home?

me: yep, see you tomorrow?

him. yeah, yeah of course. alright, well have a good night. see you tomorrow.

me: (smile), you have a good night ____

him: you too miss

in my head (right after): warning,  I run away. Actually I’m going to do so in say…less than a month.

in my head (10 minutes after): for now, for the next two weeks, before I run, run back to him, do you want to go steady?

in my head (30 minutes after): he’d be so cute, we’d be so cute…eh. he’s not him. maybe next lifetime kiddo?

in my head (tomorrow, around 3 pm): hi.