Drowning

I'm drowning and it'd be a lot easier to just go under rather than keep fighting to stay afloat. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I take a breath in, it's always air that hits my lungs instead of liquid. It's that dream that you can't wake up from. And death by water is my biggest fear.

I'm trapped in limbo, every moment reliving the same thing over and over and over again. My lungs burning for oxygen, me taking a breath and relaxing at the thought of knowing I'll be able to rest in just a moment, and then realizing that it's air and not water and that no, relaxation isn't coming.

Sometimes, I notice something beautiful under the water, or my head breaks through the silence and I'm dazzled by the sunlight sending crystals everywhere. In these moments, I blissfully forget about drowning, and I laugh and smile as I enjoy the radiance of the world around me.

But mostly, I just want to drown. I am sick of fighting and never getting ahead. I am tired. My lungs hurt. And I am surrounded by darkness. No matter how many times I breathe under water though, nothing happens.

Please God, wake me up from this dream.

...it's beating again.

It's the moment when your heart starts beating on it's own again after having CPR done on it. You hurt from the efforts to save your life; after all, having to save your life did involve you dying. Now you have a chance at a new life...but you still have the same body...with the same problems...you're in the same location, with the same people, and the same past. But somehow, in some tiny way, it's different. And your heart is beating again.

Maybe you got lost in the abyss of time when your heart wasn't beating, or maybe you got so used to someone else mechanically depolarizing your cardiac cells that you forgot what it's like to have them depolarize themselves because of something in you that's intrinsic, automatic, and independent of anyone else. Either way, you are so aware now of the thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump that's going on. Your hand covers half of your neck, captivated by the warm pulsation of life.You lay in the stillness of that moment, no one else able to hear the beating, no one else able to feel the movement.

You're breathing again, and it's awe inspiring and terrifying at the same time. You don't know if you should feel this. And though you're elated at the freedom and rest it brings, you don't know where to go from here. So you don't go. You lay there, listening to your heart beat its own joyous rhythm, feeling your blood dance beneath your fingers...strong, steadfast, and independent of anyone else.

Fears

I wonder what I'm giving up. It's part of what keeps me back.

Will I be loved again? Never feel the pain of birth again? Listen to my own laughter beat against the walls? Admire my own accomplishments? Always rent movies because I am afraid to sit alone?

...am I afraid to be alone?

What if no one is there to hold me when I die and I'm the person that the paramedic gets excited to "work," only to find that I've been laying there for three days already?

I didn't want to be a statistic.

I didn't want any of this.

...and I am afraid.

you told me to write...

Sometimes loving someone means you sacrifice yourself for that person. I'm not talking about letting him have the last cookie or running outside when it's -15 to turn the car on. I mean the gut wrenching soul bearing moment when you give up what you both want because it's what right for the other person.

Sometimes loving someone means saying no instead of yes. I can only wish that I had known that years ago, that someone had taught me along the way and before we got to this point. But I have learned now. And I love you. And I will love you even if what you want is for me to be selfish and you hate what I am doing to you.

Funny, when two people truly love each other, they will only agree to things if it's in the other person's best interest--never if it's in their own. So I will tell you that I need to stop, when really, I am talking about you. I will tell you that I need space and time to figure things out when really, really what I want is to crawl onto your lap and have you hold me and kiss me and never, ever let go of me.

You are like a piercing to me. You own a part of me, and even if I remove you, the scar is still there, reminding me that it's yours. Others may not see it...but I will know it's there, and I will subconsciously think about it every time I run my hand over my skin, caressing the scar without even realizing I'm doing it. Other times, I may purposely trace the outline with my finger, willing myself to feel the pain again because feeling the love again is worth the pain.

I cherish being loved by you. I have fallen in love with being loved with no strings attached and no expectations. To let go of that is to cut one of my jugular veins...no matter how delicate of an instrument I use, no matter how much cleaning I do before hand or how careful I am, the result will be the same and I may bleed to death in the process.

But that's a risk I am willing to take. Because I love you, too.

I want something different. Something that in many ways might be easier. But...I love you, and I am going to stand for you even when you aren't standing for yourself right now. I will carry you, even if it's something you won't be able to see by me doing by this. I will fight myself from clinging to you, and you will let me go because you will think it's what I need.

Know that you are loved. You always will be. Forever, and ever, and ever. No matter what, I never stop loving.

I promise. I do.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." 

(Jeremiah 29:11-13)