A Little Lonely Love

Sooo, it's Christmas Eve and I'm alone again. I'm trying my hardest to tell myself that's okay, but it's not.

For the most part I hate holidays, but not because I'm a Scrooge...it's because I'm tired of being alone on them. I mean, sure, I have my family, and kiddies, let me tell you that's the most important thing in the whole bloody world...but there are different kinds of love, and I'm severely lacking in one type: romantic.

I have friends. I could spend my time with them, yes, but that's not the same as what I want, and I always feel like I'm intruding. I guess what I'm telling you is that I'm tired of settling for less than what I want, and what I want is to not be alone in everything I do anymore. The problem with that is I have a lot of trouble trusting people—with getting close to people. I've never had much reason to trust anyone, you see. I've grown up with a father who's never said "I love you" to myself, or to my mother, and—speaking of mothers—I have a mother who will tell you "I love you" as soon as she'll call you an asshole and replace "love" with "hate." Doesn't make for much of a reason to want to date, or trust anyone, now does it?


Whenever I try to trust somebody, I always end up hitting a certain wall that keeps me from going to deeper levels of intimacy, and we're not talking about sex here, people. Intimacy means other things as well—like "emotional" intimacy. Get your minds out of the gutters. Anyway, I clam up...I physically can't talk, and my fight or flight response kicks in. I blame this on my family atmosphere. It's something that I can get over if I work really hard, but it takes a lot of time, and a lot of patience on the part of the person trying to get over my hang up, but I try.


All I want is love. All I want is somebody to pull under the mistletoe with, and kiss in the first few seconds of the new year. Until I get that, no material possession will ever mean anything to me again.


With Much Love, and a Little Hope for the New Year,
A Little Lonely Wisdom


"Every little thing needs love, honey." ~My Mother

Pretty Little Understandings

This has been an odd week. Not a bad odd, but odd.

I've gone back to school after my three week break, and it's summer now. The birds are singing in the morning, and the days last till 8:00 p.m. People walk with a skip to their step and smiles on their faces. Little girls whirl happily in their summer bell dresses just to see them poof out around their legs, and the only thing that interrupts my afternoons is the sound of the church down the street ringing a happy tune at midday.

The music on the radio is peppier, the clothing brighter, and the smiles genuine. I love this time of year. There's just something about it. Even the darkest of hearts crack open a window and hope for something.

And I can look out my back door to see this.

Anyway, it's been an odd week. A friend of mine had a breakdown and I went to stay overnight with her to keep her company in her sadness, my father went off on me for no reason, my mother has been going through phases of depression and über happiness, and I've been okay with everything going on. I'm handling it all well. That being the only reason this week wasn't particularly bad other than the fact that I had a great day on Saturday. I'm handling things well. That is so odd for me. I think it has to do with all the strifes I've been going through over the last few years.

Finally, they're paying off.

Aww, man. I just cracked myself up. "Strifes that are paying off." I said that like I purposely put myself through the loss of my personality, a bout with an alcoholic family member, psoriasis, parents constantly on the verge of divorce, endless work, and a broken heart mixed with a helping of "long-distance-relationship."

I'm feeling better because I'm letting myself feel better. I'm feeling better because I'm following my dreams. I'm feeling better because I'm listening to my passions, and, finally, I'm feeling better because I'm making sure that I'm doing what I want to do along with what I have to do.

At the same time I'm dealing with my old pains instead of letting them float in the muck of my mind, heart, and soul. Every time something comes back to haunt me I stab it with a knife or shoot it with a bullet. My mind likes to tell me how everything that went wrong in my past was my fault and that I need to regret it forever. It's one of my dragons that needs slaying. I haven't fought it for a long time, but (like I've said) recently I've been killing it. I've been taking hunks out of it. I am so tired of being haunted by my past. It would be a good thing for it to die, perhaps mourned a little bit, but definitely needs to be left cold and lifeless in an unmarked grave. I'll never forget what I've been through, but it's nice to say goodbye for it. And you, if you've read this blog at all, know that I believe "goodbye" is a thing said only when you mean never to come back.

I also believe that shit happens for a reason. I always knew that my ex came into my life for a reason, and I always knew he would never stay, but it took me months to figure out why. You wanna know what I discovered? It's that he taught me how to fight. It's not like he told me to, but he gave me something to fight for, so I indirectly learned the lesson from him. It was really God telling me to do something. It was God telling me to stop being such a pussyfoot, and it was God telling me to get off my ass and live because there's good shit out there mixed in with all the crap. I'm glad he did. Because now I can handle my current situations, which are all easy in my mind, but I can deal with them whilst that little girl so many months ago wouldn't have dealt with anything at all.

You've got to deal with things. When you leave stuff undone, that stuff will come back to haunt you. I know that well. I definitely know that well.

Stuff comes into your life for a reason. Live through the circumstances bravely and fight your dragons. Just don't forget to slay them.

~A Little Lonely Wisdom

"The hardest battle you're ever going to fight is the battle to be just you." ~Leo F. Buscaglia

A Little Lonely Melody

I've been seeing some strange things in myself lately. It begins with humming. I caught myself at it all day today, and it's been building inside me for the last few months. I've been so lost over the last year that I had forgotten everything that I ever was to myself—my best friend, a comrade, a beautiful woman of many passions. Somewhere along the course of the last few years I lost all of my passions. They all trickled into the dusty hourglass of time because everyone had been telling me they were worthless. My own father basically told me that my dreams were shit last year. Not in those exact terms, and maybe he didn't think they truly embodied shit, but they sure smelled a lot like it. He told me that they didn't and wouldn't make me any money in my future. They weren't secure enough for his tastes. It was at that point when I started killing myself, and where I started to slowly die on the inside, all relatively unbeknownst to myself. I spent the last two-three years of my life in denial, but it wasn't until last year that I truly lost everything that I ever was. It wasn't until last year that I had the last thing I hoped for taken away from me, and my voice went silent.


I was a very brave little girl. Nothing phased me. My mother is always telling me stories about how my teachers would mention in student-teacher conferences that, "the girl knows who she is." I never fell prey to the idiosyncrasies of youth. I never, ever, tried to conform to anybody. If anything, they were always conforming to me—jealous that I didn't seem to need all the trappings they did to feel human, alive, and individualistic. I was a bossy kid. I admit that, but it's only because nobody ever had the guts to stand up to me. If I said that we should do something, they never put forth any ideas as to what. I always tended to have to come up with the plans. Yeah, it went to my head a lot, but I was always pretty nice.


Anyway, that little girl could do anything. She had a semi-crappy life, but she could do anything. She knew that what others thought of her didn't matter. She knew that the only person in the world who had to love her was her, and that as long as she was okay with who she was and the decisions she made, she would always be satisfied with herself. She knew that being able to look in the mirror every day without flinching away in shame was the only thing she had to worry about. She knew everything.


It's hard to be in a position in life where you realize that you once knew everything that you gave up on later  because others told you to, and because of the harshness of the world.


Things I've had to reteach myself lately are shameful in their simplicity. Because of my mother, I've had to reteach myself that skin color is just a pigment, that religion doesn't automatically make a person good or bad, and that my worth does not depend upon whether or not I have a boyfriend screwing me so that I can give her grandchildren. (I don't really want children, by the way. She hates me for this. Legitimate hatred some days.) I've also had to reteach myself that my parents may not get along, but that doesn't mean that my future relationships will all end up like theirs. I've had to comfort myself that, just because they hate each other and I've never heard either of them say "I love you" doesn't mean that I'll end up that way. I've had to remind myself that I know the way I love, and that one day I'll find somebody who appreciates my past and who doesn't make me live in it. I'll find a man who isn't like my father (albeit, he's a good guy, he's over-controlling and doesn't know how to talk to someone, and ignores the world around him rather than deal with it when it comes to relationships) and loves/treats me the way I deserve to be loved/treated.


When I was a little girl I understood that accepting somebody for everything they were would get you a friend in anybody in the world. When I was a little girl I understood that judging somebody and assuming the end of a situation would just end with you in a very bad place.


I understood that trust was in a hug, love was in a kiss, and understanding was in a smile, and also that these three things coincided. I understood that there was no shame in asking for help, and that trusting somebody was a good thing...because you have to trust somebody to be trusted in return. I understood that the only way to get an answer was to ask for one, and sometimes you wouldn't like the answer, but that was okay...because at least now you knew. If shit hit the fan, you just moved forward instead of caring about it. You either fixed it or forgot about it.


Last, but definitely not least, I understood that my passions were what made me. I understood that trusting myself and doing things that made me happy were what kept me happy. I understood that doing things that I didn't want to do would make me sad and frustrated—I understood....I understood that if I didn't do at least some things for myself, I would always be in a very unhappy place.


I lost all of this knowledge over the last few years, but this year, especially, was bad. This year I stopped believing in love. This year I stopped drawing, I stopped writing, I stopped reading, and I stopped hoping. This year I forgot how much I loved the sun and it's warmth, I forgot that I loved my cat and my family, and I forgot that I'd ever loved anything...because I didn't believe in it anymore. I was a very dismal person for a long, long, longgggggggg while. Then I got my heart broken, and anything that I had left of my old self was just bloody gone.


I camped out in my basement and didn't come out for two months. I didn't eat, I didn't watch T.V., I didn't talk to anybody...I didn't even cry. I didn't know if it was night or day, and I didn't particularly care. I had stopped doing anything of any value to anyone, including myself.


And that brings us back to the beginning. That's why it was so weird to me today to catch myself humming. I wasn't humming anything in particular, I was just humming the sounds of my soul. That soft, warm, and rolling, lullaby with a beat that stirs the bones from sleep...gently—like the waves of a slow-moving river against the banks of its shores. Something warmed by the sleepy sun. Golden and full of life. Reminiscent of old Egyptian tales and times full of magic. That's what my soul sounds like. I haven't heard the sound of my soul since I was a very little girl.


For a time, I thought my ex was singing that song back to me...that's part of the reason I loved him so much. It occurs to me now that he wasn't. He came close...but it was more of a moody-blues version of my strong, luscious, twining beats. Every once in awhile he got the melody right, but it wasn't ever quite what I wanted to hear, or needed to hear. I do thank him though. And I thank God. He brought him into my life so that he could sing back to me a little bit of the song I'd lost so long ago. He reminded me of the base tune, while I was left to find the rest of it on my own. Now. Now that I know that...I am completely healed. Not just from my loss of him, but from my loss of everything. Apparently somebody had to come into my life and intervene so that everything else could be okay. It's too bad that he was one that would just walk in for a time, leave footprints, and then leave...but that'll be okay now. His footprints will always be here in my heart, like the footprints of astronauts will always be on the moon, but I don't need him or his presence anymore.

If this sings to you, then you've heard the sound of my soul.

I am still looking for somebody to complete my tune...make it more robust and give me a harmony. Not an exact one, but certainly closer than the one my ex had, and certainly closer to my heart.

I'm glad I hummed today. And I'm glad I can finally see everything again.

~A Little Bit of Lonely Wisdom

"But if you love and must have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody into the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully."

~Kahlil Gibran

Listen To Yourself: You Are Beautiful, You Are Strong, And You Are Amazing

"I have learned silence from the talkative, tolerance from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strangely, I am ungrateful to these teachers." ~Kahlil Gibran

Some people are just annoying. With some people your words will always go in one ear and out the other like they never existed—like they were never uttered—despite the common sense and logic you use to explain something to them. I am guilty of this, but I am far less guilty of it than I am a victim of it. I always try to listen to what people are saying to me, simply out of respect. If they have an idea that is better than my own, I may not be happy about it for a time, but I will do my best to think on it and reason with myself so that I can accept that others can be more intelligent than myself in certain things—in a lot of things, because, as Stephen Tyler said recently in an interview: "It took me until I was sixty, but now I understand; I don't know anything."


None of us really understands anything.


We will never understand what created our universe, we can only postulate. We can have faith in one of the many scriptures that were written by the hand of man, whether or not their hands speak with the voice of a God or gods, but we will never know for sure why we are what we are until the day comes that we pass on into a world where everything is understood beyond the realm of human life. We, as humans, will never come to a conclusive agreement on anything. As long as we are alive, everything will be questioned. The only thing we can do, is stick to the things we believe in—no matter how many people tell us we're wrong.


Because there will always be bigots and hypocrites telling you what they think, and they will be telling you what they think you should think.


If you ever remember anything that I tell you, this needs to be one that sticks in your mind. The only person in this world whose opinion matters is your own. If you think something is wrong, it probably is. If you think somebody is leading you astray, they probably are. If you feel scared, there's probably a good reason. And, if a person shows you who they are: believe them the first time. Especially if they show you they're a bad person. Very rarely will a person be a shithead just to protect you, or to save face, or because they're hiding something. Besides, if being a shithead is the way a person deals with their problems, you don't want to deal with them anyway.


At the same time, sometimes we lie to ourselves. Sometimes we see things where only a particle of dust floats. Don't let your fears keep you from doing anything. If you've had your heart broken: love again. Just love somebody different, and love somebody new, and, most importantly, don't let yourself end up in the same bad ending just because you project old fears onto your  new situation. You are capable of living a "happily ever after." Albeit, it won't be a perfect one—you are capable of being as happy as you possibly can be in your circumstances.


No matter where you are in life, you have the ability to work hard and turn your world into what you want it to be. You do not have to be an American to live the American Dream. (Secretly, it's just as hard to make your dreams come true here, as it is anywhere else in the world.) I've always found it stupid that a dream so magical as raising up from your position in life and doing what you love had to be labeled with a country. It's a dream we all share, because we are all human, we are all the same, and we are all born with the ability to succeed.


Remember, it's not how many times you fall, it's how many times you get back up, that matters. This is a truth that is common to all walks of life.


You are beautiful, you are amazing, you are strong. Nothing can stop you unless you let it, and nothing has power over you unless you give it. Take control of your own life, and don't spend time living in your own personal hells.


The only person who has to love you is you.


This Has Been,
~A Little Lonely Wisdom


"If you haven't forgiven yourself something, how can you forgive others?" ~Dolores Huerta


"Everybody talks about wanting to change things and help and fix, but ultimately all you can do is fix yourself. And that's a lot. Because if you can fix yourself, it has a ripple effect." ~Rob Reiner


"It ain't nothing to find no starting place in the world. You just start from where you find yourself." ~August Wilson