I know

I keep searching for some small hope to hold onto.
Any sign that you might think of me,
that you might want me too.
I keep looking after you and
grasping,
grasping as wisps of nothing that I've imagined you feel for me.
Pretending that you spoke to me.
Pretending that you care for me.
Pretending you might actually
accept my heart that's crying
out to yours.
But you are silent. Oh, you are quiet,
and this nothing says
everything
I don't want to know.

That I'm foolishly hoping and so never moving.
I'm always loving alone.

To the tips of my very soul.

I feel that every day I find a little bit more of myself. Of who I am, of who I’m not,
of who I don’t want,
and yet tend,
to be.
I make mistakes, and cry, and rage, and then let You pick me up again. And again. And again.

And again.

And I’m okay with that. Because I think that, ever so slowly, I am learning to give it all to You.

I run to You faster and faster.

I may not be learning quickly, but I’m so glad that I’m learning.

Learning through You and through others too. Through the friends and the strangers that You so bless me with. One word and I’m changed, rearranged, never the same. Forever forgetting what I once thought was true. All because of who You are and what You do.

And I’m so thankful that You give me every day to breathe, and move, and dance, and laugh, and make mistakes, and try to fix them, and open my eyes to the fact that I can’t, and move on, and get a second chance.

So undeserved,

but given nonetheless.

This life would be nothing, is nothing, with out God’s grace and with out His love. There’s no reason for breathing with out Him.

I’m trying to let Him fill me up to the tips of my soul and overflowing.

For me.

Have you ever just shared your feelings with someone?

Straight up told them “this is it!”.

I never did, well, not till now. Not till you.

Not till this courage seeped through my veins and called out for me to yell…

though waiting for you was pure torture.

I hung onto every word you said so tightly, because that was all I had left of some distant, tattered, memory that I created for us.

For me.

And this was all for me, but then for you, and everything I pretended that we could be, once upon a time, when you said you cared for me... did you ever really care for me?

But don’t answer that, please.

I only wanted to take your worry: steal it away and let you sleep. Peacefully dream, so when you'd “g2g to bed” and rest, I'd know that you’re life would be okay.

I wouldn’t add to it my heavy heart, wouldn’t hand you a trouble that you don’t need.

Just another one to think about...

Now add to your pile of my apologies.

The Truest Sorrow

You're just about the worst person I know. In all you’re silence and mystery.

But not nearly as worse as I.

Because I ask and ask and fall into these traps and catch myself in the despicable act. Hating that I want to cry.

I'm choosing to dig myself into despair. Choosing to believe that you might still care,

but you don't,

and you won't.

Not ever again. And I can't get over that. No,

I hoped too much to let you slip away like that.

Or I hoped too much for me.

You were simply some happiness for my lonely

heart. Left unfulfilled and in self inflicted

agony.

And I walk away from Him too much.

The one who could truly bring me Joy.

Ignoring His call I stumble on.

And that is the Truest Sorrow