I won’t be held accountable for breaking a song-bird’s wings. Fear is crippling. Life exhausting; friends foreign. Interacting a hassle.
I want to be heard. No more disappearing. Excuses are hideous and immature. It’s time to light up the room again. With a smile, a glance, a confident introduction…comfort in my skin, without worrying about surroundings.
Wasting no more thunder on a storm that moved west, this is my last post of 2010. I’m done.
I thought about a year-in-recap post, I thought about writing a resolution for 2011, Christmas stories were also an option. Instead, I’m unapologetic to myself and to you, my dearest friends.
Don’t go anywhere, I’m about to open up a new year with more truth, more honesty. I’m pushing myself past what I used to believe were limitations.
I wrote a poem earlier this week. Unsure what to do with it and confused about why it came to me, I let it sit in a file until now.
Imagination takes you anywhere you want.
Shackled to a dream, chains tear away at ivory skin. Flaming wounds replay the loop. Let me love you; let me know you.
Irony is deeper than the abrasions. Only in these moments of paralysis are the vast distances of travel seen. Captured only for as long as allowed to stay. The journey begins when released from ravenous, unrealistic desires. It’s time.
Standing outside of the clear-glass window, a deteriorating skeleton of myself lays before me. The rock walls crumbling around her mimic her frail existence. With the key clinched in her fist, she grinds her knuckles into the earth-toned crag, and a nightmarish blush pours from the broken appendages.
Hot tears burn her already swollen, blurry, delusional eyes. And as the inevitability of the outcome sinks into her brokenness, the desire to remain fades. So she looks up to me, and asks to be taken home where she can heal and start over. She wants me to hold her tonight because she knows that fighting the certainty is worse than accepting certain defeat, even though suffering is inevitable.
She knows we’ve had the key to these fetters all along. We control our release.
The door is delicately opened and my feet step one in front of the other. The victim watches my approach. A gaze of unconditional empathy toward her and safety is known. Her frail, bruised arm reaches toward the sky. And as her arm turns over, the ghost of my past relinquishes the opener.
Standing over her for a minute, I appreciate the fact that I’m regaining a piece of myself, no matter how disfigured she may be. Then, scooping her into my arms and throwing the heavy metal shackles to the floor, she feels weightless. Perhaps her weight loss is because of the suffering, but I think it’s the loss of fear that makes us both ethereal.
I’m saying good-bye to James tonight. Forever. Phone calls will go unanswered and text messages ignored.
No more ‘what-if’ routines, no more excuses. It’s over.
My heart will mourn.
I will get over it.
One of my wonderful blogging friends left this comment on my last post:
My dear Fina,
I hope you have climbed out of bed by now – having conquered two or three of your old ghosts – and are parading about town with your dimples flashing and your heels astompin’.
It isn’t my concern who you choose to bestow with your magnificent presence – I just want to make sure that it isn’t being hidden away.
Merry Christmas, pretty girl.
I haven’t been astompin’ or aflashin’ a single thing and I owe it to myself to start…and to dig deeper to find that beautiful, gifted girl inside that is begging me to let her live. Thank you, Terri, for throwing a mirror in front of me and saying, “Walk the walk, sister”.
It’s amazing how much a song can put things into perspective. Here is mine for 2010:
My pain and heartache brought you and I together. You empathized with my decisions, with my fear, with my lifestyle as a twenty-something searching for love and suffering confusion and uncertainty. And while I didn’t get what I wanted from my love life, I’ve been given such blessings in the relationships that have developed from my blog. Every tear, every sad night, every moment of weakness was worth it because I now have you.
I hope you’ll stay with me for a new chapter. It’s time to grow tall.
Next year’s theme:
I am going shopping tomorrow. If I’m going to be astompin’ I need new stems (have I ever told you how great my legs are?).
It just wouldn’t be a Fina post if I didn’t have some conceit added. And while I’m promising change, I am also promising myself that my sense of humor will remain.
I’m fucking funny. Deal with it.
Happy 2011 all. I’ll be back, taking names, and dishing the dirt shortly.