Not confusing

Over and over again I tell myself that the tears are okay just as long as no one sees them. I also say that it is all well and fine when I have to walk away from people that make my heart hurt. That one moment that even steps to the battling ring every time I strive to look forward. Its a bit of nastiness and a bit of encouragement.

I so badly hoped that I would have been a good choice but in the end of the whole ordeal I was just the loose end that needed to be snipped. It just hits you and chokes you when you realize just how replaceable you are to a person.

Then you go through this fanatical mode where the want to get even only to realize that you are just sinking too low. You sink to the level that they expect you to. Even more so when you try to play being God. I don't ever feel I am just, like Jehovah is. See that is where I changed. I can't go back to playing the sweet revenge games nor the I am better than that next person you choose. For had I been better than her, you would have chosen me. Yet I wasn't even in the arena to be chosen.

I left so long ago.

I have now to just let my memories of good times and rough ones come and go. That has to be the parts of life that are me too. And when I do cry in the lighted room of mine, when I am listening to music, painting or writing, I know I will be okay. It will hurt for a while but all things in life are not mean to keep a person down.

So even though, right now, I still am sniffling I still understand the need of these emotions. This constant battle between wanting to reach out and knowing that the door has been barred closed now for a month. It is the kind reminders that I am better, for someone. Just wasn't that person for you.

See that is the part of me you never saw, the one who saw the light in the darkness. A person that can look passed all the dreary days and low, low moments and push on upwards. Perhaps that is why I was so replaceable because I didn't let you get that deep. That is my fault, but I didn't trust you enough to get hurt again.

So all you got to see was that snapped person, trying her hardest to cover up the wounds and rebuild a wall that was needed. Still I wanted you to be part of the recovery. And still I realized you were the recovery. The part I had to build protection from.

As much as it hurts my heart, allows choking and gasps for air I still understand your place in my life. And as much as I like to believe it is buried now, I know that is wrong to say. Yet it a very kind way. See you will always be a sibling. One day your priorities in who you really are will hit you like a brick wall, and I will be happy for you. Life will open goodness for you.

Yet right now, no. Even I can't begin to imagine the roughness to play out. Yet I won't be watching. Just praying.

These stormy nights that come into play, even in my prayers I still cling to one thing. That being words will be heard. My words will sink deep. Yet I don't know when, nor how. Yet I believe that I am not at work here, Jehovah is. So I will rely on his words. I only believe Jehovah is the answer.

As for me, I know I have a long road ahead. I know each day I go along I am grateful for the good morning I am given. I give my thanksgiving. I can't expect anyone else to feel the same. One day I will be solid enough to really dig into the lessons given from a platform. Yet today, another day, goes by and I am holding on.

Sure I have my days where I wonder if I will ever find a really deep human friend, who wants to learn about me. For I know Jehovah is the best friend, father I will ever gain. Even though I am lost in a way, I am slowly finding where I need to be, in his arms and at his table.

Yet for today I am grateful to have emotions about old friends, foes and lovers. Grateful to explain the differences between stars, the moon and the sun. To explain how dreams, reality and forward thinking can be. Oh I like being able to just explain depths of me. Not all of them, for even to me, parts are a mystery. For sure I can't label the feelings I have except through similes and examples of historic stories.

Or even I can give a song I replay over and over again. A small glimpse of the depth of me. Though the only hope is that someone is listening and really learning. That in some small way I am helping someone grasp the multidimensional person I am. Not personalities, no. I am singular but not flat.

Its the greatest hope I have, to be understood, finally. That is all I hope for with anyone. And still I will never say it aloud.

One last tear, but of joy to say my greatest hope.  Alas I can finally be at some level of peace, again. Not confusing.