We Were, Now We Aren’t

I once was young and I was naïve
I dreamed of a future where we would be
Together we’d fight, you with me
Hand in hand so sturdily

We pushed each other to rise above
The hatred thrown by the world at us
Together we fought them using our love
The assumption that it would simply be enough

Slowly we pushed each other to grow
To become… (whatever we are now)…I don’t know
We pushed so hard our unity broke
Here we both are, standing alone

Perhaps at one point we were the same
Pushed ourselves then each other away
You led me to believe we were on the same page
Yet your words were rehearsed and our fights were staged

Did you know it would come to this?
Did you know it when we first kissed?
Was this my doing, or is this your wish?
Is there still a chance, even just a bit…?

 

MG
(Narration of an observed journey)

The Path Not Taken

I looked at old pictures
Of you and of us
Trying to muster an apology
For not being “good enough”
All that came out
Were words of honest truth
“I’m sorry that I was never
Broken enough for you”

For months I kept trying
To go back and apologise
Kept thinking I’d done wrong
That I’d accidentally lied
In retrospect I realize
The only mistake I’d made
Was not spotting your disguise
I thought was “compromise”

You’re so used to being depressed
That you throw away happiness
Every chance you get
You stop to analyse instead of progress
You were noticeably different when we met
A lot less distressed
A lot more perplexed
And a lot more invested

I, too, was trying to process
A great deal of unrest
The turmoils of our youths
Eventually split me from you
I took time to rebuild myself
You, instead, ran to hell
Got comfortable and stayed there
Whining that no one cared

Slowly, I faded out of your life
Drifted effortlessly into mine
One that I had relentlessly created
To include only those who motivate
And silently exclude those who berate
My world invites but does not force
Just come through the door
Don’t break down the walls
You are always more than welcome to stay
But you deliberately choose not to pull your own weight.

 

MG

 

Reflective Rambles

(This ramble rambles on a little, beware.)

So what that I used to be more extroverted and now I’m more introverted? So what that I used to care about the material world and now I care about the metaphysical one? So what that my room is chaotic when the wars in my head have finally subsided?

Yes, I know that every day is a blessing and a stepping stone towards the future. I know that what happened in the past is a reflection of what I once thought was important. I know that history is a representation of how large our complacent, arrogant egos measured compared to each new tomorrow.

And I know that the future is only influenced by what we do today, but it is in no way defined or determined.

Destiny is never “one goal” but a series of different choices we make in order to arrive at a destination we gear towards — most of the time, anyway.

Yes, unexpected occurrences are a part of life, things change and those inconsistencies sometimes affect our rhythms. But I suppose growing up is merely a compilation of learning how to account for differences — knowing how to mold ourselves into situations that are out of our control.

We can’t change reality, but we can change how we respond to it. We can’t always get what we want, but we can generally strive for our needs. “Wants” and desires are preferences, they are nothing more than what we’ve been feeding our egos this whole time. Needs, on the other hand, are the aspects that keep us physically and mentally in check. The rest falls into place as long as these aspects are regulated.

With all these regimented policies I’ve made for myself, committing to them has led to a freedom I was always fighting for but had no idea what it looked like until I attained it.

Yes, I’m freer than I was but not as free as I can be.

Freedom to me? Free of anxiety, of anger, of rage, of pain. Free of impulsivity, of disparity within myself. Free of unnecessary desire, of irrational delusions. Free, but still with a few remnants to de-clutter. I mean, if I did it all at once, there’d be nothing left to do. So why the rush? It’s not like I’m trying to prove anything to anyone, so why be impulsive about it?

I used to be in a rush to grow-up, but now that I’m a little bit more “grown’, one thing I learned along the way is that you can’t rush growth.

What you can rush though, is getting your work done before the due dates and paying bills on time. Other than that… there is really… no…….. r..u….sh……………

 

MG

 

 

Kindness is Not Weakness

She looked at me with insecurity in her eyes, as if pleading for sympathy.

I couldn’t.

Much as I tried to muster up a shred of compassion, she had used up the last ounce left in me. Used it up on some medial triviality that was, if anything,  inconsequential to the matter at hand.

For years, I had done my best to understand the root of the issue. For years, I had given a part of myself to her — my ears, heart, time, energy. I had been sympathetic towards experiences far out of my scope. My arms were always open for embrace, my head was always open to another perspective, but my soul was guarding my heart from digesting more than I could stomach.

Then it happened.

One day, I opened my eyes and realized that she was a living, breathing reminder of everything I had already overcome. She had the demeanor of a human, but the behaviour of what used to be my undefeated demons.

I was at the end of my tether, a tether I didn’t even know existed — perhaps very few people had ever dared reach it. Even fewer lacked the cognizance to know where my line lay.

But she, I suppose, fell into that category of “one of the fewer”.

I confronted her, of course, regarding the levels of disrespect radiating like Venus’ sulfuric acid — she didn’t “mean to”, she just couldn’t “help it”. Apparently it was my fault for letting her speak in that manner, for not defending myself.

Well my apologies for choosing to rise above the need to be unnecessarily defensive.

I took her advice, nonetheless, to prove a point. I “defended myself” by not taking blame for other people’s transgressions. This was, incidentally, viewed as “interrupting” and “not letting the other person finish speaking.” (Rambling, honestly).

Well my apologies for having self-respect and guiding a conversation instead of enabling validation. 

My tether.

How did I even let it go on so long?

Simple.

I’ve been there before.

I’ve been in her shoes before. Those juvenile, self-centered, self-indulged, narcissistic, insecure, egotistic, defensive, over-analytical, paranoid, anxious shoes.

I’ve worn something like that.

Many moons ago, but in those shoes I’ve tread those paths — climbed the mountains and rolled down cliffs, drowned in lakes and washed up on shore, broken my bones and worn them casts.

But I am not there now. Nor do I want to go back to any of it.

So when I say that I am out of sympathy, it is not selfish or uncaring. It is not callous or heartless.

It is that I will no longer allow anyone to twist something beautiful into their distorted versions of reality. I cannot fill the voids she won’t admit exist, and will not validate insecurities that are hers — not mine — to fight.

My darling, if you ever read this, I’m sorry that I’d ever let you mistake my kindness for weakness, but I’m walking away because of the strength I’ve mustered up after recovering from this battle. I can’t let you interpret my words to your advantage simply to justify the mistakes of mine you continuously repeat instead of move past. I cannot keep being the buoy you cling to when you get stranded at sea, repeatedly. It’s time for you to pull your own weight — I’ve left you with enough care packages and tools to sift through, but it’s up to you to figure out how to use them. 

You’re on your own, darling, but in a way that you need right now. 

I’ll see you on the other side.
Hope you make it out alive.

Signed with the kind of love you’ve yet to understand, 


MG

Protected: Who You Really Are

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After Your Ego Breaks

A letter to you, darling,

Since your mysterious disappearance, a lot has happened and changed. Not just externally, those are almost expected, but intrinsic transformation beyond even my wildest of imaginations.

It has been a year of adventure, of exploration, of growth. A few days ago, these words came to me and many unanswered questions finally found their resting places.

Real love remains even after your ego breaks.

While I’ve always known that ego has been my greatest challenge in life, meeting you is what taught me to stop leaning on it. To stop leaning on my own understanding and perception of reality. You and I had a few brief and deep conversations, we connected on a level that not many can do so naturally. There was definitely a form of chemistry between us, yet neither of us seemed to know what to do about it.

I battled myself for months, deliberating whether or not to make a move or contact you. I wanted to, each and every day.

But I knew that what you deserved, what you needed, and the type of understanding that you required was beyond my capabilities at the time. Much as I wanted to be strong enough for you emotionally, much as I wanted to give you the space you needed to grow, I couldn’t…

…because space is not a luxury I’ve been blessed with until more recently, and thus could not give what I did not have.

For this, I apologize, sincerely. I am sorry that I couldn’t give you what you asked for, that I couldn’t be who you needed me to be, and that I couldn’t see what it was you were trying to show.

Having come to terms with a neurological condition in recent years, learning how to integrate in an overwhelmingly temporary world, and moving past a series of repeated traumas in a few years whilst refusing to be victimized is honestly not an easy feat. Not easy, but still possible.

When we met, I was coming out of a dark hole, still crawling back to life. You met me when I was battered and bruised, torn and tethered. When I was nothing but a shriveled up patient in recovery who had just taken off a cast and had yet to relearn the functionality of those decayed muscles.

When we met, I was still in metaphorical rags.

I can understand why you left; I must’ve looked like a zombie coming after your brains. Maybe I was, figuratively speaking…

It was your soul.

It was your beautiful soul that drew me to you in the first place. I’d been living without one for so long that your radiance was an inevitable magnet to me; that bright light you see as you leave the tunnel of darkness.

I followed the light. I followed you…

By the time I’d finally made it out of the tunnel, you were gone!

Lost and displaced I was for a while, calling out to you and reaching out, not knowing why you’d disappeared.

Until now, I never figured it out. But I do love you, in the way you asked me to…

You wanted to be loved like the sun: from a distance, your light is lasting and appreciated. Up close, your passion burns so hot that you accidentally hurt those who overstep those boundaries. You pull away to protect the ones you love, not because you’re avoiding them, but because you want to keep them safe.

You, more than anyone, know your passions like no one else.

For that reason, you live your life the way you do, nomadic as a passenger. You don’t want to burden others because you know you can’t take on theirs either, yet you want to be loved nonetheless.

You deserve to be loved.

It has taken us this much distance for me to finally understand that. To understand how you want to be loved.

That, darling, is the love I can give you, because I don’t love anyone with the intention of ever “getting over” the person.

If I choose to love, then that love lasts; it doesn’t disappear, it merely transforms.

I do love you in the way you asked; it may not be what I had expected of myself, but it is what it is.

From the soul,

MG

 

Real love remains even after your ego breaks.
MG

Exhaustion

Muscles carve into my bones
Like hot, bubbling gelatin
Legs are filled with pebbles and stones
Dragging calcified iron bars within
Shoulders fall with under the weight of the world
Dangling arms, weak and insecure

I rest my head upon my pillow
Looking down at my world below
Books and boxes everywhere
Memoirs of moments shared
Between every you and every me
Every fragment of my reality

Inhale, exhale… breathe
Air goes from my lungs to my knees
To my fingers, my feet, my toes
Out again through the nose
Finally, a moment to just take a breath
Wake in the morning and start afresh

Soldier on through the day
As they always say
No rest for the weary
The thought is scary
But the concept is rarely
As bad as reality

When all’s said and done
Hard work is always fun
When it all comes together
The puzzle is clearer
The writing’s on the wall
The boxes, on the floor
The pictures’re on the door
We’ve all been here before

MG

 

November 14, 2016

-Wrote this after a long day of moving boxes, tried out a slightly less abstract, more narrative style.