“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Posts tagged ‘love’

Marriage Is…

This is a list of the petty, silly, random things I do in my marriage. Yes, so many of these need to change and I am always changing. Both of us are.

Marriage is…

…not what you think it is when you are unmarried.

…nagging someone to the point of frustration, and then realizing you’re more annoying than whatever it was you were nagging them about.

…irrational jealousy and then when you receive attention from others you pretend it bothers you when you actually enjoy it.

…hypocritically doing everything you verbally tell your spouse to stop doing.

…crying uncontrollably in your spouse’s arms when you’re mad at them.

…waiting for them to come home and ignoring them when they arrive.

….cleaning and cooking while declaring your rejection of the 50’s housewife stereotype. 

…demanding them to do multiple things for you and then expecting a back rub when they’re done.

…assuming you will always be watching your movie and calling it the ultimate sacrifice when you watch theirs.

…having breakthrough moments when both of you cling to each other and don’t let go.

…eating breakfast with them in silence and not minding it.

…going to work and wishing they worked with you.

…arguing over who makes the most accurate animal sounds.

…watching your son and taking turns saying, “He’s so cute.”

…graciously brushing your teeth in the morning to give them a fresh kiss.

…realizing every day that you love them and cannot live without them.

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Move Together

I thought I’d share some music while my child is asleep. I used to work at 3 in the morning baking pastries and I feel as though this song is pretty relevant. My husband would get home around 11 or 12 at night and this puts me in his perspective a bit, since we hardly ever saw each other during that moment in our lives. Oftentimes, I forget that marriage is two people and that both need to put in an effort to strive for their loved one’s happiness. Some missed sleep is nothing if you want to spend your entire life with someone.

What Hurts

IMG_1490Pain was necessary to make me who I am. Even though sometimes the thought of what I’ve gone through is crippling, I know for a fact that it was the turning point for my becoming. Without pain, I would never have held a relationship to the wild step of marriage. Without pain, I would never had given it my all to birth a child. I wouldn’t have the determination that I have now to experience life to its fullest. But, oh, how it hurt at the time.
When a fifteen-year-old finds herself at the mercy of two grown men, so many things can happen. I could have died. I could have been abducted, sold, lost. I was violated but so much worse could have occurred in that moment. I survived to have a family and a life of potential. It killed me then, but it drives me now to love beyond reason the harshest of humans.  Somehow I still see the light in this world.
In the year following that moment, I was dark in my soul. My mind shouted and my nails were used to scratch red, bloody words onto my skin. I wrote horrible notes to myself where no one would see them. To me, I was nothing. Ruined. A whore. I kept my dark secrets buried and let them simmer and shape me into a bitter cynic. I felt ugly, inside and out. And to me, every man, both young and old, wanted me as a toy to play with and then leave in the dirt.
What changed this horrible mindset? I had a mental disease that was eating away at my core. Whatever could possibly heal me of it?
There is a love that reaches deep into your heart and strengthens it and fills it where it once was empty. I may yet be cynical but I believe wholeheartedly that there is a God that mends the broken mind and drives us to live again. He let me realize that the darkness in me was my soul crying to be whole. I was not abandoned or ruined or the putrid heap I thought I was. I was loved. I was beautiful.
I hope that in my sharing of this there will be someone that will understand. Do not allow those that hurt you to win. You can still stand strong and tall and live life wonderfully. I hope you find the healing that I did. I hope you have better days. I hope you grow old with your family and can look back to see that pain only made you tougher and didn’t cripple you. You may still cry or flinch at little things but it will get better over time. Survive. Do not dwell on the past, as it cannot change, but it can change you for the better if you’ll allow it.

To Think

Being young and having a baby puts me in an awkward place with my peers. Most women my age are only just getting engaged, or otherwise they are in school and working five days a week. This places me at the edge of circles, not yet old enough to be considered in the mom groups and in such a different place in life that I feel strangely mature in my usual group of friends.
I know I’m not the only mom to feel this way. My life doesn’t revolve fully around my child and husband. I don’t have dinner on the table every night. I just want to go on long runs in the forest and come home to a smiling baby, but that’s an impossible daydream.
I do like to work. I enjoy the feeling of earning my money and paying bills. I enjoy helping others.
Maybe what I’m trying to say is that I feel too young, too old, too busy, too lazy, and nowhere near where I wish I were in life.
I’ve always dreamt of traveling the world and learning new languages, of meeting new people and living in both poverty and riches in order to fully understand the world. I wanted to be a police officer, unbiased toward even the most distinctly different person. I wanted to be a writer, able to carry emotions in my words and change people though them. I wanted to be a wanderer, untethered by family or feelings and able to explore the entire expanse of the earth by wit alone.
But I found myself married at twenty years old and it’s possible that none of those dreams will ever come into fruition. And perhaps that is all they ever were: dreams. They were ideas that I latched onto and ruminated over so often that I found no fault in them.
Now I do find fault in them. They are missing my husband and my son and my family and friends and perhaps I feel for them more than I let on. I can be stoic and tired and hard and untouchable but I don’t think I can live without the people that surround me.
I sympathize for moody teenagers because I was one, but I also understand the need for stability and nine to fives and those days that drag on because they mean you love and are loved. I love and am loved, and I could continue to pine away for my unfulfilled dreams but sometimes things come into your life that you never expect and you never knew you needed.
I never meant for this to become what it is, but I guess I needed to write some things out for them to make sense in my head. Thank you for listening.

Childhood

We caught the rainstorms

We danced in raindrops

We found the rainbow

More colorful that most

Our conversations

Like sand and water

Don’t go but then again

They compliment each other

They compliment each other

~

The day’s eventful

The night is grateful

The world seems to laugh

But not at us

Life is amazing

Nothing is crazy but

Both of our grins

And honesty

Honesty

~

We gave our heart’s up

Then told nobody

We liked the way it was

So secret and secure

You had the treehouse

I had the swingset

Now we are grown and gone

The promise safe with me

The promise safe with me

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

The Dream Last Night

I had a dream I was my brother, Samuel. On my (his) eighteenth birthday, I invited a bunch of people over. For some reason, my dad was this random drunk stranger, and he was asleep.

So all these people snuck into my house, and we had cake and soda and presents. It was pretty normal. But there was this girl (please remember that, although I am a girl, in my dream I was a boy, and so this makes perfect sense). She was beautiful. I fell instantly in love with her, and I wrote her a letter saying so. She rejected me.

But I wouldn’t stop, and I wrote another letter. This time she replied, saying that she loved me, but her dad was in leagues with my “dad” and they wanted to keep us apart.

My “dad” found out about the letters, and so we were both locked up in separate cages, unable to see each other. We had a friend passing letters back and forth between us, so we were able to tell each other how much we were in love.

Then we broke free and ran away to Paris.

Not really, I don’t remember the rest of the dream.

 

The Soldier

we’d written the letters that told of our love

while i was at war

you were in my head

but the distance turned out to be too hard

or so i saw

upon my returning

do you know how i felt when i came home?

so empty

like a bottle in a desert

fighting can really take a toll on someone

being surrounded

by the dead and the dying

i expected a loving welcome when i stepped out

no matter

that your letters stopped coming

i was running to swing you in my arms like i used to

but i saw

the man at your side

and the ring…

and the bulging belly

and you never told me why

you hadn’t waited

 

 

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

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