Someone asked me what marriage was. I didn't know what to say and I almost gave the one-word answer of "persistence."
It wasn't a bad answer, but I was half-joking and it didn't really sum everything up.
Marriage is having someone in your corner. It's coming home at the end of the day to someone who wants to know how yours was. It's being yourself and being liked for it. It's also being annoyed and even flat out angry now and then, but it's having enough humility to say you're sorry afterwards, or to accept their apology. Even if they never said it aloud. It's eating together, a lot. It's being on someone's team and having them on your team too. It's caring, it's being kind.
And it isn't half bad.
Monday, April 24, 2017
My heart and the words
Words are everything.
Oh, my darling, use yours carefully. Because once said they can't be taken back. And no matter how I try, I can't forget them. I carry the curse of remembrance and once something is put in my little head it won't go away, no matter how I scrub. I know you're hurting and so am I but please know that lives rise and fall on words, written and spoken.
Whenever I think of your words, my chest constricts and I'm startled by the hurt. Every single time it startles me - the hurt. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.
I don't want regrets, but it's too late now, there are too many words.
Life isn't a game. No matter how many kind things are said to mend, the words spoken to break are stronger. They cut deeper and they're easier to let fly.
Next time, perhaps our words will be a little kinder. Perhaps we'll reach inside and use an bit of extra understanding that we couldn't find before. It's so easy to slip, but I hope that we'll find the strength to stand.
Oh, my darling, use yours carefully. Because once said they can't be taken back. And no matter how I try, I can't forget them. I carry the curse of remembrance and once something is put in my little head it won't go away, no matter how I scrub. I know you're hurting and so am I but please know that lives rise and fall on words, written and spoken.
Whenever I think of your words, my chest constricts and I'm startled by the hurt. Every single time it startles me - the hurt. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.
I don't want regrets, but it's too late now, there are too many words.
Life isn't a game. No matter how many kind things are said to mend, the words spoken to break are stronger. They cut deeper and they're easier to let fly.
Next time, perhaps our words will be a little kinder. Perhaps we'll reach inside and use an bit of extra understanding that we couldn't find before. It's so easy to slip, but I hope that we'll find the strength to stand.
Friday, April 21, 2017
Strangers
Stranger
Noun
An individual that one is not acquainted with.
I have developed a talent and honed it over the years. It is not a talent I am proud of or one that I tried to succeed in - this talent of turning friends into strangers. For some reason I seem to enjoy giving my pieces to those who will some day become someone I am not acquainted with at all.
Noun
An individual that one is not acquainted with.
I have developed a talent and honed it over the years. It is not a talent I am proud of or one that I tried to succeed in - this talent of turning friends into strangers. For some reason I seem to enjoy giving my pieces to those who will some day become someone I am not acquainted with at all.
...
In the end, we're all lonely people searching for belonging, and for someone to see everything inside us, and to stay anyways.
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