It’s been a weird and wild couple of days. I have been unsatisfied with how little writing I have been doing since returning home from vacation a few weeks ago. I have really been feeling uninspired and just at a lost for where my brain is. I have so many writing topic ideas but no motivation, and none of them feel right. All this negative energy has forced me to think to the writing I am most proud of, and it’s you. It’s always been you. Since December of 2015, it’s been you. I remember writing you a letter on my phone on my flight home. Typing through a stream of tears. I remember sitting in my dad’s office late at night after everybody had gone to bed, transferring my letter from my phone to paper. Crying because I felt so in love, and I felt crazy for feeling so in love. To this day I remember my favorite part of that letter without even having to go back and reread it. It was the end of the letter and I said things like I can’t promise to always be willing to try something new with you, I can’t promise to always have the right things to say, I can’t promise to always wash the dishes with soap. But I can promise to love you the very best that I know how. I can promise to always give you my heart, to choose you over and over again. I can promise to always try, to always fight, to always always love you. I remeber after I finally finished writing that letter I shook out my hand cramp and read and reread and read again the words I just written to you. It felt so powerful to me and I was, although very excited, I was very anxious to give you that letter. I had never been one to wear my heart on my sleeve and I was giving you the most vulnerable pieces of me. The night I gave it to you we were in the living room before heading to bed, we sat on the couch and I told you I had something to give you. I handed you the letter and watched you read every word. Your eyes darting from left to right all the way down the pages, front and back. And then you started to cry. I knew in that moment, everything was perfect.
Communicating out loud has always been an ability I am weak in. I do not like confrontation, I do not like putting my feelings out there, and I do not like giving people the ability to hold any kind of power over me. I am a very private and personal person You have to pry things out of me, and I know that can be frustrating. And awkward. And irritating. But since that day, pouring my feelings out for you felt like second nature. I felt like I could write a novel about you and our love. I could go on for days about everything involving you. That letter, to this day, is still the piece I am most proud of. I wonder if you still have it.
There was a lot of proud pieces after that, all of them to you or about you. Like I said, it’s always you. But then after a while, a year actually,.. December of 2016 I wrote some more proud pieces. Except they weren’t full of love, they were full of heartache and brokeness. This is when I started to get more into poetry.
“You changed me, permanently. I can never go back to who I was before you came along. You introduced me to the most incredible love. But you also introduced me to the deepest pain I have ever felt.”
“Do you know what it feels like, when the one whom you thought you’d spend your life with, decides they don’t want to spend their life with you? The feeling is indescribable, you are unable to vocalize it, you are unable to write about. Sometimes, you are unable to breathe.”
“You are painful, yet loving. You let me know I am still alive even though it feels like I am not. You’re the bruise I can’t stop touching.”
Again, there were a lot of proud pieces in the following months. Proud in the sense that I continuously kept my heart on my sleeve even though it needed to be wrapped up deep inside my chest cavity. Safe from all the cruleness of the world. I felt very pathetic and desperate at times, I’m sure you thought that way of me too. But I did something that has never been easy for me. I fought like fucking hell for what I wanted. For the person I loved. Although it didn’t turn out exactly in my favor, I grew. And for that, I am proud.
And lastly, “I’m just so torn right now and I think right now, the best thing for me is to be on my own”. I sat in the bath with tears rolling slowly down my face. Writing the toughest words I had written thus far. I felt like I knew exactly what I was doing, and I’m not going to lie, it felt right. I wrote that last sentence and let out a sigh of relief. Thinking to myself, I am finally giving myself what I deserve. I am finally doing this for me, because I need it. I am letting go and I am content. I was unsure of whether or not I was going to send it, and as we both know, I did. I felt nervous and uneasy. As you replied I felt angry, which made it easier to let go. That fueled my fire and reassured me that this was the right choice to make. I felt good. And I felt proud of myself.
And then the phone call. This whole post has been about my proudest writing moments. But I’d like to end this by my proudest “out loud” piece. I said before that communication has never been easy for me. Writing just came way more natural. You can carefull pick and choose exactly what you’re gonna say and how you’re gonna say it. You can go back and add things in or take things out. You can say exactly what you want to say. But physically speaking out loud is a whole other ball game. I always get my thoughts twisted, forget half the things I wanted to say, and sometimes say nothing at all even when I have everything to say. The phone call was very difficult. I think it was much needed and I think it was very mature. And as heartbreaking as it was, I am thankful it happened. I am proud of everything I said and stood by exactly what I was feeling, despite the pain is caused the both of us.. despite how much we both hated it. I am proud of the choice I made and the things I said, despite the doubt that has filled me since then. I am trying to trust in myself and stick to my guns. And so I am proud.
I’m sure there are other pieces I have written that I am very proud of, I do a lot of writing. But the ones that stick out the most, the ones that are eternally embedded in my brain all revolve around you. I don’t know if that is good or bad. I am uncertain on how I feel about it. Sometimes I wish it weren’t always you, sometimes I wish I could write pieces that move people other than you and I. But then, sometimes, I am thankful you and I share that. Something special. Although I’ve just put it out there for anybody to read, only you and I know the extent of each piece. Only you and I have personally experienced the emotions associated with each piece. It’s ours forever, that nobody can steal from us. So for now, it’s you. You are what I am most proud of.