Tag Archives: Safety

A Special Kind of Love

6 Nov

I promised myself I’d write about you eventually. I knew I would need to give myself a certain closure, while also leaving plenty of space for you in my heart, a space you will occupy for the rest of my life.

You carried me through my childhood. You saw the way people treated me, and you acted as a buffer between me and the rest of the world. When we were kids, I needed that buffer. I needed a safe space to go where I didn’t have to be face to face with my situation, while also not having to completely face the blows of reality either. You provided me with that space. Your presence in my life when we were kids was like a bubble I never wanted to leave because it was the one place I felt cared for, the one place I felt safe. Now, I’m no longer inside that bubble, but I find comfort in knowing it’s always a place I can still go if I am in need of reassurance.

Your presence in my life brings me to tears, both tears of joy and tears of sadness. I wonder how I ever got so lucky to have a friend as rare as you in my life. Someone who has known me since we were kids. Someone who knows everything I went through, and loves me just the same, if not more. Someone who has acted as my protector for as long as I can remember. Someone who took me to my first dance, who took me to my prom, and who would drop everything to be there for me. That kind of friendship is so incredibly rare, and the wonderful thing is how safe and cared for I feel, even when I’m just thinking of you. Therefore, my deep love for you makes sense. It brings me to tears because I know my love for you is not the same kind of love you have for me. It breaks my heart, but it doesn’t take away how I have always seen you. Truthfully, my feelings for you make sense. They truly do. I don’t know of anyone who could be cherished the way you cherish me and not develop deeper feelings.

Your belief in all that I am propels me forward. It gives me the strength to keep going when I feel like giving up, and it shows me there are people in this world that would do anything just to see me happy. Though I know that has been true for a long time, it took numerous deep conversations with you until I started to see it with my own eyes. You’ve allowed me to feel a kind of love I thought I’d never find. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened between us if I would have recognized the love sooner. However, I don’t want to spend my life backpedaling. From this point on, I want to go forward. Forward towards a kind of love I will find one day. A kind of love I now know exists because you have shown me that even though certain forms of love are rare, they do exist.

Yes, I love you. I love you with all that I am, and I truly believe I always will. That’s the thing about first loves, right? They stay with you forever. Though you have not been my first love in the traditional relationship sense of the world, I think 15 years of friendship is a very special, though unique kind of relationship. And it’s been a special kind of love. The kind of love that has allowed me to grow and has given me support all at the same time. The kind of love that has provided me with a true sense of feeling safe, a sense of knowing I matter. The kind of love that is so rare, and yet so beautiful in all that it means.

Yet, because your presence in my life has brought me love, I am hopeful. I am hopeful that one day I will find the kind of love I wish you could show me now. Because in so many ways, you’ve done the best thing for us. Our friendship is too precious to take the risk of a relationship. You told me you vowed to never put yourself in a position where you might leave (since you had seen so many “friends” leave me, and knew how much it hurt me when they did). In its own way, that shows just how much your cherish me, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

I love you, and I always will. Your presence in my life has lifted me up while also breaking me down. Though that may sound sad, it’s good. You’ve helped me to experience an emotion I never thought I’d understand. Granted, though I am no closer to understanding it, I finally know the feeling of loving someone so much that it seems as if your heart might burst from happiness. And now, in this moment, I know what it means to love you, while also allowing other people in. For a while, I was afraid giving myself the opportunity to move on would mean I had to let you go, but that’s not what it means at all. It means loving you, keeping you in my heart, but making space in my heart for new possibilities. It means it’s possible to hold all kinds of love in your heart at once, and knowing there is always room for more.

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Photo Friday: Home for the Holidays.

21 Dec

photo-13

“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou

Reflecting on words.

29 Nov

Have you ever come across one of your previous pieces of writing and thought: Did I seriously write that? It’s SO good! That happened to me last night when I came across a blog post I wrote on October the 20th, titled The finding place of my words. As I read my own words, I was amazed. There were certain connections I made on that brisk fall day back in October that still apply to how I feel right now. I don’t know what it is with writers wanting to write about words or the creative process. However, in my case, it provides me with perspective, which is discussed in more detail in my blog post titled, The magic of first lines in literature.

Last Spring, as I was walking across the quad of my college campus to get to class, I had to stop and take in the scene that was unfolding before me. As I looked around, I saw tons of college students sitting on the quad reading. However, as is customary for Asheville, they were all different. Each student’s reading experience was unique. One guy was lying in a hammock he had strung up between two nearby trees, and his book rested lightly against his bent knees. I also saw a girl who was lying on her stomach on a flowery blanket with her bare feet casually in the air. She was holding a book out in front of her, careful to block the sun from her eyes. The third student I spotted was my personal favorite though. She was sitting in the grass with her back up against the trunk of a tree. Her long, dark hair covered the sides of her face, making it possible to only focus on her eyes, which were moving so fast across the pages of her book that I could tell she was a very focused reader. I think the image of the third student stuck with me the most because I could see so much of myself in her. As a reader, especially when it involves a book I am reading for pleasure, it takes a lot to break my focus. Often times, I get so absorbed in the words that I lose the ability to fully comprehend what is going on around me, outside of the world of words that I so often call home.

Though I don’t know whether the students that I observed were reading for their own pleasure or for a class assignment, I like to believe either they were reading something for pleasure or were at least reading something they were interested in. I enjoy sticking to this belief simply because it is very closely related to how I imagine myself when I am reading. In so many ways, words have always been my refuge, but they have also been the place I have returned to again and again if I need to re-evaluate something or find my sense of balance.

“All my life I’ve looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.” – Ernest Hemingway

Not all words provide us with the strength to change or the reassurance that we are moving in the right direction in our lives. However, if a series of words can come together into a sentence that causes us to stop and read the sentence again and again, it’s almost like magic. Whether they fill us with a sense of happiness, loss, sadness, anger, loneliness, or hope…words matter. They have the ability to reach a place inside us that not many people can even describe. It’s almost as if the most precious of sentences we have ever read reside in a place so deep within us and so personal that it takes a certain kind of experience for the words to resurface.

“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music the words make.” – Truman Capote

“One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment.” – Hart Crane

Words matter. They are precious stones that have been washed by the countless waves of the sea, and they lie in the sand, waiting for us to uncover them. But the most precious words, the ones that are the rare deep blue stones, they are not so easy to find. They reside in the crevices of rocks, thrown to those places by the most violent of waves. But they have triumphed. They have overcome the turbulent waves of the sea, taking refuge until we are able to bring them out into the light. So don’t wait. Start searching.

To Grace (Part 2): Walking Through The Fire.

25 Apr

Since I got such awesome feedback from the first post I wrote To Grace, I decided to write a part two. Who knows…this could just be the beginning of posts I write out to kids who have CP just like me. But this “letter” in a sense is simply reflecting on what I have gone through while having CP. By addressing it to Grace, I am connecting with someone I know personally who also has CP. However, this can apply to anyone who has CP, so I’ve decided to not include a “To:” line, and instead, I’ll just jump right in.

First things first, don’t be afraid to cry. I know that you have been faced with so many struggles and you feel like you need to act like you’re not afraid so that other kids who don’t understand will refrain from taunting you. However, you can be afraid. I know that you don’t want to, but you shouldn’t feel bad about being afraid. If anyone else was in your situation, they’d be terrified. Anyway, as I said before, don’t be afraid to cry. I know that you want to be strong for your family and your friends, but crying doesn’t mean you’re weak. Sometimes, it means you’re that much stronger because instead of holding back how you feel, you’re letting it out, tears and all.

Find your own sense of security, something that makes you feel safe. For me, that was my stuffed animals. For every one of my surgeries, I took a stuffed animal into the operating room with me. My stuffed animal of choice even got a hospital band of its own so that it was like we were experiencing the pain together. When you split fear or pain between 2 people, even if one of them isn’t a real person, it’s as if there’s someone holding your hand as you walk through the fire. I mean, it doesn’t make a huge difference….but it could be the difference in feeling like you have a friend beside you and feeling totally and utterly alone.

Find a release. Whether it’s watching tv, reading a book, or writing in your diary…find something that can get your mind off of things for a few moments. Trust me, I know it’s easier said than done. When you’re in the hospital or you’re going to PT, all you can think about is the fact that in a little over an hour you’ll be crying. And you wish that just for one day, you could not end up hurting so much after that hour of PT. I know how hard it is. I’ve been there. In your mind, you wish you could be anywhere else, and in your mind, enduring that pain, even for only an hour, is the worse kind of pain. That’s why it’s good to find some sort of release. Some way to let out some of the anxiety. I’ve suffered with a lot of anxiety throughout my life, but it was especially bad when I was going through all my surgeries and PT. My way of letting out my anxiety was through writing. I’d write about what I was feeling. I’d write about the fact that I wish I could be anywhere but on my way to PT. I’d write about how much it hurt, and how I wished that there was someone who could understand. I’d write any and everything, and even though all the pain and fear was still there when I was done, I was happy that for a few precious moments I was able to vent to not a person, but to something that seemed more trusting at the time: a blank sheet of paper.

Lastly, probably one of the most important things I could say, is smile. I know it seems like such a simple task, but some days, even though they could be few and far between, are good. Some days aren’t quite so tough, or rather, parts of some days aren’t as tough. Smile during those times. Though it may not seem like it, you are so awesome. You’re facing a level of pain that few people can even imagine, and best of all, you’re getting through it. You’re not letting it tear you down. Yes, lots of days are hard, but you’re fighting. That counts. Rather than sitting on the floor feeling sad that you can’t do things as well as other kids, you’re standing there trying to figure out how you can do it in your own way. It may not be perfect, but guess what? It doesn’t have to be. All that matters is that you’re walking through the fire that’s your life, but instead of standing around and letting the flames consume you, you’re running straight into the flames and that, my friend, is so freaking awesome!