on paper

In the midst of all the words, sentences, well placed adjectives

There was

Raw fear. Something cherished, without knowing.

The realization of how dear,

And how near,

you are.

Priceless right through fingers,

dropping right out of grasp.

Fear becomes desperate need.  To say, to tell, to share.

Ink drawn lines hold it down.

Once fleeting, fragile

made real.

what's life if you're not really living it?

"I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights sleep, worked too long and too hard in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I’ve lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment."
- John Steinbeck

i'm not always the person I think I am

When you said I wasn't a high achiever, or didn't have those characteristics. It hurt. But with all your rational logic, there had to be a reason why. Maybe, I'm not the high achiever I perceived myself to be and maybe, I would perceive myself to be or feel the need to be that way and be completely insulted by that comment. I had to be. I need to beleive I am, it breaks all the ideology I've been raised with. In the wake of this conversation, I've thought alot about what you said. I know I'm flawed. Perceptions are such, we are still trying to see each other without those rose tinted glasses that make it so beautiful, but misleading. You said something about how you're not everything I think you are. I agree. I don't know. I'd love you to share those flaws with me. But that's the whole point. I want to know. And I don't know how long that will take, but I want to be able to say that I know, as fully as I can. I feel you hold back, and I know you want it to make sense to you too, but it leaves me wondering if there's more.  I want to do this right. In some ways, maybe I never wanted to be an over achiever. I just wanted to be happy. Whatever that means. And to me it doesn't necessarily mean succeeding in whatever sense over achieving is. I just felt that pressure. I guess I still do. The only self- hatred I have for myself is directly related to failure in that realm. Failure in being the person I think everyone wants/needs me to be. But that's reality. So I deal, with my denial. And I really like to hide. Hide from those expectations.  But I feel you do to, without ever directly telling me how you feel. I hope we can be more honest about who we really are and what we really want.

down in the mouth

my grandmother used to use this term. It's exactly how I'm feeling today.

shitty diamonds

It's been a rough ride lately. Challenging, frustrating, stressful but at the same time rewarding, affirming and, at moments, uplifting.

The shitty stuff:

• Wreaking my car (again!!)
• My guy's health problems. He's anxious, scared, nervous and generally not feeling well, which doesn't pair well with:
• A huge workload with my boss gone and lots of stress at work, resulting in less time to workout or see friends and more time drinking which I'm sure is not healthy and is consequently not making me look healthy. 
• Constant calls from jail. 
• A whole bunch of cavities and I'm TERRIFIED of the dentist 

The good stuff:

• Discovering how well I can do when I'm challenged at work
• A very supportive boss buying me a bottle of St. Germaine and a pass to Sled Island to show me his gratitude for a job well done while he's gone and giving me some time off to decompress. 
• Really honest talks with my guy about life things that are always learning experiences
• Reconnecting with old friends, having some great meals, great talks, great games of golf.
• Really supportive friends who I've been able to lean on and vent to and are very understanding about my absenteeism with our friendship and have even taken me for dinner, drove me around, lent me their cars, bought me tickets, bought me candy; willing to do anything to make my life a little easier. I'm beyond grateful.

...even after a fight

we hold hands when we sleep. our fingertips touch. he strokes my toes under the covers with his.