Ink Stained Soul…

It was blurry, those lines between us. From the very first night, my soul felt seen. I didn’t know why, but I trusted you. Without any hesitation, I trusted you. Your voice has calmed my storms. Every single time, you answered when I needed you to remind me. The world was making me question my foundation; it was your voice that grounded me, still in who I was. The facts of the situation didn’t add up… How could this man be this way, and we be nothing? My spiral into darkness when the calls weren’t answered… Well, that was a death I had to learn to be reborn from. Still, the lesson I found was in ways you were grounding me. Your voice was in my head. When I was at my worst, I heard you telling me what to do. I heard you calm me, words that were so clearly yours. I heard your voice telling me I’m not stupid. All this creating more blurry lines in our story. I have no answers, and I’ve run out of questions. I simply know this: you are my grounding force and the one to whom my soul says listen.

If you listen you will hear it.
When you touch her skin, an exhale or soft moan.
Grazing her neck with your lips she will lean into you.
Safe, trust, knowing, submission.
Tracing your fingers along her thighs.
Sighs, light moaning at how alive she becomes because you awaken her.
Those moments when you massage her back and hips after she gave herself to you.
Etching new patterns into her head and heart.
If you pay attention to what she isn’t saying but what she is showing you.
It’s all there if you can open your eyes ears, and heart.

There are times that after I make myself eat I feel disgusting.
My thoughts go to getting on the scales halfway through.
Gluten free oatmeal with oat milk.
All things my allergies can and should tolerate.
Yet still, I feel like I just consumed unnecessary calories.
I don’t feel nourished.
I feel sluggish and bloated.
Like a hostage in my own body.
Deep seeded body dysmorphia from shame I didn’t deserve.
Most days a struggle.
I fight these demons every day but make no mistake this is a war.

Why do we lose our child like wonder?
Magic lived in those moments.
Running as fast as you could.
Skipping and twirling around.
Playing in the sunshine.
Becoming a mermaid, a pirate, crawling through the woods facing combat.
Making mud pies or painting with different colors from rocks and materials you collect.
Trusting your instincts and feeling fearless.
Dancing in the rain and jumping in puddles.
Letting the grass and clouds take you to different realms of imagination.
Talking to trees and animals.
Where did we lose it?
Like so many things I can not accept this as my fate.
And so I allow that part of myself to live again.

My struggle with food is something I still face daily.
Guilt if I eat bad.
Feel sick and bloated.
Caught in a fog and disgust.
Guilt if I forgot to eat.
Going back and forth between starving myself and trying to take care of myself.
Comments made, not even to me but what I observe others saying about people around sneak into my head.
Do they think that way about me?
Standing in the mirror several times a day, climbing on the scale.
My own worst enemy and yet my own salvation.
Afraid to let myself be seen while trying to conquer all my demons.
Slowly I have found my love for every party of my body but the deeply ingrained food rejection is an all day struggle.

‘I kept showing up for a man that kept disappearing on me. ‘

This shocked my entire mindset. The phrase that hit deep. Not even just men. I gave so much to so many people.
I stopped calling or texting first.My phone almost never goes off. And so healing took a dive deeper.
Now I keep my phone on dnd.I take myself out. I get dressed and done up for me. I buy flowers for me, and go topless to a private beach spot. I show up for myself.
This lesson took over 40 years to sink in.
Wanting to be chosen, wanted, needed, seen just melted away.
I absolutely love my time alone with myself. All the things others projected to me simply doesn’t matter for me now.

I fell in Love with Sue Ellen.

Why did you come last night? There must have been a reason you crossed the veil to be with me there, a compelling yearning that pulled you from your reality into mine. Walking in like you were owed a spot in my life at will, as if the universe had already conspired to make us entwined. It was not without an almost moment, a fleeting sense of connection that flickered between us, but alas, like in reality, you were a disappointment—your presence felt hollow, leaving me to question the very purpose of your arrival. The anticipation that once sparked joy now lingered like a ghost of what could have been, diminishing my hope with every exhaled word that fell flat in the stillness of the air.

You are like a Memory. Dark, instinctive, and alluring. Drawing me into a home I have never seen but know every inch of. The countertop you place me every time you summoned me. Always cooking when you call me into this world. I never remember food though. You demand my words. What is it I need?

It is never that simple. You know. You toy with me to see how obedient I will become. I must be specific in what I demand from you. You call me in today, but did you know? That you should me what’s been hidden and how I can have it all.

How much of my wounds do you need exposed? Do you need me struggling for my last gasp of air to be satisfied with destroying me? Do you feel superior enough to inflict suffering on another without consequences? My sanctuary from war is not yours to access; therefore, you have no right to my scars and how I had to heal.

Grief lives in your heart and soul because love lived there first. The loss, whether by death or the closing of chapters, stems from the love that once flourished. Tears and this aching part of yourself only want more – more time, more chances for conversation, more moments to create memories, more of what you lost. Your mind can’t make your heart reconcile that it will be no more. And that’s why great love often comes with great losses. The ultimate lesson is one you must always choose: What’s life without love? Nothing.