Things are happening. This very moment, as I write this, things are happening. Doors are opening, wounds are healing. Storms are clearing, the ocean is brewing, waves are crashing; wiping away old things and bringing in new ones. I am not trying to be poetic here, but I am definitely being prophetic; I am declaring it, I am accepting it and I am worshipping God for it. I sit here in bed, having felt an overwhelming gratitude last morning and an immense pain last evening. I haven’t let go and that’s what my soul was grieving. You know the guy I last wrote about? The one I felt such strong chemistry with, but then he was just too busy among other things? Well, I have dated at least 4 other men since, all while still thinking about him. I just kept comparing others to him and thinking about how short they fell. I spent less time with him but the time I did spend was so moving, so much more meaningful. Quality time. You see? The way I speak of him, that’s the way I think of him. It’s hard to let it go; the idea that he was so imperfectly perfect and I still walked away. I always walk away. I always do. I told you, I have attachment issues. I have always dated men who were nothing like I wanted so that I could walk away easily whenever I was ready. It’s a power thing. I like being in control; all the time. It’s unrealistic and unhealthy; I know. As I said, I have struggled with insecure avoidance attachment. I fear the ones I love the most and want around the most will leave me at will and I hate that. I hate willy nilly love. I abhor fickle emotional love. When I love, it transcends emotions. It’s a deep caring for the person. I want to do whatever I can to help that person become the best version of themselves, to achieve all their goals, to stay healthy, active and happy and to be 100% themselves 100% of the time. Why? Because that’s what I want for myself, that’s how I feel about myself and that’s how I treat those I care for.
It was the first date that I realized I had a really strong but gentle love this human. I cared for him immediately. And you know what is the first emotion I felt when I realized that? Fear. An overwhelming fear that “I bet he is going to hurt me too”. I love love, but I fear it. I am a gentle intensity. I do not know how to be half hearted. I throw my soul into all that I give to this world. My whole being becomes involved. This piece that I am writing now? It’s my he-art. My heart on paper, lol. or better yet on screen. Oh the evolution of the writer! I marvel at this art. It’s poetic, prophetic, it transcends boundaries and borders. Ummmm…
I have always wanted to give visual art a go. To draw/paint my he-art. To create something that has no language barriers. I have always wanted to learn to play an instrument, well instruments; the piano and the guitar. I like the feel of the keys beneath my fingers and the strings at my finger tips as I strum…The idea that I can play my he-art out is invigorating. I love classical music for that. It is a true art. Have you ever seen André Rieu and his orchestra playing? Oh but you must. If even once. Just listen and observe. He puts his whole soul into it. It’s magic. I cry why I listen to him. You cannot help but be moved. Listen to an interview from him, he is truly passionate. And that I can relate to.
Sometimes I feel as though my heart is larger than the cavity it ought to be in in my chest as it aches and swells and my chest constricts as though it cannot accommodate it. It’s breathtaking. Literally…
P.S. I know I ended abruptly. It is MY he-art after all.