Soul Food

Getting older has been an extremely bizzarre process. I find it harder than ever to genuinely feel optimistic. It’s difficult to satisfy the craving of human connection. Not the day to day words that carelessly spill past our lips and evaporate into nothing, but a real connection. What makes you tick? What is the origin of your pain? What is hidden in the depths of your mind? What do you feel that you are missing? We are forced to sweep all of these feelings aside until we are completely empty. As a child, all of the chaos was silenced by simple things. I remember getting out of bed early in the summertime. I threw on my clothes to the gentle humming of the air conditioner and quickly ate breakfast. Soon enough, I was roaming around the neighborhood. The sun kissing my skin and the sublte earthy scents filled me with all that I needed. Time would move so slowly and every second was a chance to make the day better. Time feels slippery lately. That all my time is given to making a living and rushing to keep up with the day to day. I’m living in constant frustration and the desire to simplify everything never dies down. This is the first time in my life I am left without answers. I feel abandonned in my adulthood, as if my childhood self would not dare step foot out of the past in fear of the distorted reflection that presents itself. I really could use a reminder. I’m not sure I know how to feel excitement for what’s to come or how to feel alive. It comes and goes. I wish it would stay more often.

“What’s left to lose? You’ve done enough. And if you fail, well then you fail but not to us. ‘Cause these last three years, I know they’ve been hard. But now it’s time to get out of the desert and into the sun; even if it’s alone.”

Out Of Sequence

Have I been standing in my own way? Why does every opportunity seem out of order. Always the wrong place at the wrong time. Truth is, I’ve been wondering why I haven’t found anything here. Am I afraid to find something unexpected? Will that make things here seem more permanent than I’m initially ready for? Do the things that I miss back home overpower every decision I make for myself here? I’m starting to wonder. Somehow the past has revealed itself a special little keepsake. A safe haven of what once was.

Harvest Moon

So here I am. I survived a year of being away from the comfort of Rhode Island. I survived a seven month battle of putting my life back together after Hurricane Sandy. I’ve experienced what it’s like to put my dreams and goals on hold to pay the bills. I’ve learned difficult lessons in regards to life, friendship and what I truly need to be happy. I’ve experienced the pain of losing my grandmother and the struggle of watching how powerful a mental illness can truly be in one’s life. This year has forced me to hit rock bottom. In a strange way, I’m glad that I did. It’s hard to be nostalgic without feeling upset. It was difficult to look myself in the mirror and realize what I need, versus the sacrificial role I’m used to portraying. I can only give so much of myself before there is nothing left. I’ve had severe breakdowns and I’ve learned how to close it in and move forward. I’ve learned to not place my happiness in the hands of others, because people change and move on. To realize what’s important to me and stand by it. I don’t ask for much, but when I do, I expect a presence. I’m not sure if this is making any sense or not, but it’s how I’ve felt.

We are on the verge of Autumn. Something about this time of year inspires me and motivates me to change. I’m digging into the depths of who I am. A year later, I’m finally coming down from all the madness. I feel harmonious and at peace. I have incredible love in my life and he is so intertwined with who I am and what I need. We both work 40+ hours a week and we have a beautiful apartment to show for it. I’ve seen that if people want to be in your life, they will be. Naturally, without any force. I appreciate everyone that stood by my side through the darkness until the sun came out again. Life has been hard, but it’s the little things that kept me going. Whether it’s apple picking with my best friend, or spending a night in with my babe. I live for the promise of tomorrow, and I no longer want to be vulnerable to the decisions of others.