The intimacy I crave
My soul at peace with yours
My smile unafraid
My laugh free to fly around the room
My tears capable of swelling
My body able to breathe in and out, to sweat, to bloat, to become larger, to become smaller
My lips caressed often
You being you
With me

I tried to understand
When you asked me to let you in
I tried to open my heart
I opened my arms
I opened my past
I shared
And I do not feel the reciprocation
I feel my energy and output is much greater than yours
Maybe I fail to understand what it means for you to share something
I know you do not understand what it means when I share everything

I listened to a sermon on Easter
I am not religious
Nor do I believe a God exists
But he does.
So I’ll listen with respect
And eagerly await the next words with interest.
This one was on Life after the Letdown.
It hits home.
Life goes on after the worst moments,
The times you thought you wouldn’t make it.
All the times you tried to end it- life goes on.
Every single time you thought you couldn’t make it.
You did.
One way or another.
And the sermon stated, all the times you tried to **** yourself God wouldn’t let you. He was not done with you yet.
So the others? That make it? He’s just done with them?
I cannot accept that.
I do not understand the faith.
I cannot wrap my head around it.
I cannot pour my soul into it
My heart will not open for something so unreal to me.
I do not need a God to have a plan for me, A God to love and cherish me,
A God to somehow forgive me, for what sins?
A God to comfort me in the dark times-
A God to comfort me when I do not know.
It is simply a comfort the same way you lay in bed,
Or eat certain foods,
Or breathe in fresh air.
Or the same way your drink,
The same way you inject,
The same way you ignorantly believe whatever side of the aisle you are on.
It is all the same.
Everything and nothing.
And it doesn’t matter either way.
Because after every Letdown
Life will go on
With or without
God

The same way someone describes their grandmother passing
The same way they see her there
The same way there is a lack of presence
Soul
Whatever it is that makes her, her
Is the same way depression feels
Is the same thing I’ve seen in people alive
The same exact feeling The same way someone describes their grandmother passing
The same way they see her there
The same way their is a lack of presence
Soul
Whatever it is that makes her her
Is the same way depression feels
Is the same thing I’ve seen in the living
The same exact feeling
You watch them disappear

I miss him
I miss his eyes and connection and smile and feeling of utter comfort
I don’t miss the sinking feeling of my heart
Or the worry or dread or fear  
It is difficult to share with someone
The feeling of wanting to die
To **** yourself
And have them understand
They don’t, they can’t if they haven’t wanted that.
And maybe that’s who I need to be with. Someone that cannot relate.
And I wonder if the connection was simply the month long infatuation with someone that finally understood me?
Or part of me.
And with only so long
And never saying goodbye
Never knowing what would happen
I feel guilt.
Because It has been a little over a year and I no longer cry on my way home from work
The grief is here but smaller
I no longer go on solo hikes and envision myself carrying him with me
A small part is with me but not all of him
It is finally at that point
And now I have found someone new to smile with
To hike with
To hold hands
Someone happy and healthy and who every time he speaks I like him more and more
Someone who may not understand that part of me
And that is okay
But I cannot feel completely free
I feel like I am betraying someone that was never mine
But he would want me to be with a partner
A partner that I can be free with

How did you love yourself today?
Did you take a moment to breathe?
To feel?
Did you notice the kiss of sun on your skin?
On your face?
Did you feel weight lift from your shoulders?
Did you push yourself out of bed at 0430 to make it to the gym? Or did you stay in and get the rest you needed?
Did you wake up and make pancakes and coffee and write postcards?
Or was it a day where you cannot feel the sun?
Where the weight was so heavy you have nothing left to feel?
Where even being outside does not lift your spirit?
It is on those days,
I would cry,
And beg for you,
To love yourself.
Those are the days it matters most.
To love yourself enough to be patient,
And wait for the next good day to arrive.
Because as painful as the wait is-
Eventually you’ll find yourself in the midst of feeling the sun kiss your soul again.  And it will hit you like a brick.
Maybe in that moment you’ll feel the rush of gratitude,
Of happiness,
Of what it might feel like to be balanced.
And you’ll have to fight to not fear it.  
You’ll have to fight tooth and nail to allow yourself to be okay.
Even for a day.
And then you chase it.
You chase the love you use to starve yourself of.
And maybe every day you’ll wonder
Why is it so hard? Why is this not an innate feeling? An innate gesture to love myself?
Why?
At the end of the day you may never know why, maybe you will and refuse to accept it.
But you’ll know you have to do try because if you don’t there wouldn’t be a you at all.
And one day, you’ll be back to being happy that you are here.