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“It’s a frightening thought, that in one fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over.”

— Beau Taplin

poetry-siir

I desire you night after night, days and months during the day and night.

poetry-siir ©

Te deseo noche tras noche, días y meses durante el día y la noche.

poetry-siir ©

thoughtkick

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

— Unknown

Time feels especially precious right now

And yet

All we do is waste it

PSA: being an introvert might make social isolation easier but it doesn’t mean we don’t need occasional attention, affirmation, touch, and to be held. Shit gets gloomy.

Valentine’s Day

Never been a fan of a day where you are supposed to feel a certain way and are supposed to receive and send signs of these feelings. I like the idea that we should express our love more but is creating or abiding by a hallmarked schedule for this a good thing? I (and probably a large number of people) have long disagreed with this prescription for expressing love one day of the year. Where I find myself suffering this year is being in a place where that love is so rarely expressed and even less frequently received. Then we have this day where we are raised to expect it, even if just as acts of kindness, chocolate from a colleague, a smile from a stranger, a lollipop from your second grade classmates, etc. now imagine this day is also one that forces the one who is supposed to love you to be with their wife and family. Obviously the day has different meaning for them but what about me? Should I stick to not caring about valentines or manufactured expressions of love? Is it fair to now, in the overwhelming absence of love express a desire for it? Does it make me a hypocrite? Is that allowed? are our needs allowed to change like that? Does it make me endlessly selfish to feel that even if you have other commitments, I deserve an acknowledgement? Or is the lack of it just another symbol of the absence of love you've had for me for some time? How do we reconcile these things in an era of feminism and independence and a constant desire to not “need” affirmation ?

Probably best to stick to not feeling at all.

To go back.

I want to go back to a time when things were simpler. When I start on this rabbit hole I think I want for a time when we all felt safe. When we felt protected, loved, valued. When we didn’t walk on egg shells or shy from the scary stuff. When I was your person; the one you confided in. When I thought there was endless opportunity; opportunity to grow and for our lives (as complicated as they may be) to become fully intertwined. My family would become yours and yours would be mine. Trouble is, those things don’t exist in a universe of safety. To get there, to be embedded in someone else’s universe is to be vulnerable. I tried that. Maybe not as whole heartedly as I should but after the first cuts, you can only through yourself in so far before you start building a life raft of walls. An out. For us, it’s distance. It’s family. It’s her. It’s a never ending cycle of vulnerability and arguments and with each one, we fade farther and farther from the place that felt safe. From each other. Who knows if there’s a way back. Will you ever trust me and want me to be a part of your life? And I mean your whole life, not just the pieces that feel less messy? Will I trust you to let me in? Can we go back? Or better yet, do we find a way forward? To a better place where rather than possibilities, we make space for each other. We let go of mistakes and cuts and regrets and make room for the people we are separate and together.

I run in the dark

In hopes I’m struck down

Struck numb

Done

Instead I come *home*

To broken glass

Struck numb

Done

At a certain point

You have to be willing

To burn down everything

And accept a new world

It's possible

The destination point

For all of us

Isn't the dream of

Some "happiness"

But

To feel warmth and safety

In a space where you can

Never stop crying

...

Trouble is, we don’t get to decide which world or walls others burn down

...

theanimalmemes

i’m not even sexually frustrated i’m romantically frustrated like i just wanna fukn hold ur hand and cuddle n shit but like AGGRESSIVELY

@sexual-texts (via sexual-texts)

be-happy-and-enjoy-the-life

I think of you at 2 a.m. When I can’t sleep and I wish you were there to hold me.

Alyssa. (via be-happy-and-enjoy-the-life)

On holidays, nesting, yoga, and belonging… a hodge podge no doubt Chatting with a good friend recently about the purposed “heteronormative dating world,” he reflected on the perhaps unprecedented or surprising number of tinder/bumble/dating site “matches” he received lately. Without trying to undermine the excitement of potential new mates, my cynism couldn’t help but suggest that this may be a response to the holiday season and the human desire to nest. I think there are two parts to this desire; the first, and most cynical, acknowledges that many people will be going home to family over the next weeks to months and like most single people are, will be faced with the inevitable questions of dating, settling down, and in less blunt terms, procreating. The other part, however, is that regardless of your situation and the amount of family you are surrounded by, the holidays can bring an incredible weight and loneliness. You wonder if you have shown enough love, if you have written someone off who needed you, if you have been as selfless as you should have and as grateful as possible in return. This holiday is overflowing with all of these sentiments within my blood and extended family. It has undoubtedly been a bear of a year for all of us. MY goal, and one I hope to share, is that we not let the loneliness and angst of the days to come interfere with our capacity to love and recognize the needs of our loved ones, past and present. This was all formulating in my head during the quiet time preceding yoga, my first class since a whirlwind travel season and minor shoulder injury. The class was full of energy and mantras I repeated to myself dozens of times in hopes of remembering them (to no avail, of course). The general theme was two-fold; the sense of belonging to a community or space and being accepted as you are without expectation of perfection and being thankful for the less obvious or the things just below the surface. These are my hopes for this year. With all of the movement and change, I hope to find peace in what is, accept the transformations of relationships and life as they come, and manage to support those around me as it happens. I know there was more I wanted to say but for now, “I miss you and I (hate that I) think I need you,” seems to cover it. Happy holidays. x

#holidays #justmissingyou

Today is Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar. It is the day when Jewish people from around the world ask for forgiveness for sins committed in the year past. We celebrated our new year about 10 days ago and now we ask to be written into the book of life for the year to come. It isn’t that we ignore our sins all year long and then lump them together now or ask for someone else to bear the burden of our sins. Instead, Jewish tradition (religious and cultural) holds a set of prescribed steps you take in asking for forgiveness. As a child, I participated in these steps from the ritualistic throwing of our sins into a moving body of water, to fasting, sitting in services all day, and reciting prayers alluding to the many sins committed throughout the year. As an adult, I have continued to fast on Yom Kippur and intermittently attend services. Not because of religious purposes but for the cultural significance and personal insight gained from 24 hrs committed to reflection. This day comes at the same time every year (according to the lunar calendar) though some years, it seems more fitting than others. This year, there is plenty to reflect on. Plenty of changes, both good and bad, within and surrounding me. I am grateful for these changes as the very shape of who I am and how I interact with the world around me seems to be shifting in a way I wasn't sure I needed or wanted. Equally, There are plenty of things to ask forgiveness for. Many are crimes I committed against myself when I was led to believe- by myself or others- that I did not deserve happiness, love, or credit. For the crimes committed against others, both known and unknown, I ask forgiveness. I am racked with guilt on a daily basis and the person I've wronged doesn't even know yet. This brings me to one of the most logical parts of this "holiday." While asking someone for forgiveness takes a tremendous amount of courage, we rarely confront those we have wronged except to assuage our own guilt. Rarely does this kind of delayed honesty make the wronged feel better. So instead, on this day, we ask a higher power to forgive us and to weight the food and the evil from the year past. It sounds hokey, especially to someone not practicing religion, but there has always been something powerful and deathly frightening about this day of reflection. Perhaps it was just beaten into me as a child or perhaps we all need a day (if not more) for reflection, repentance, and acceptance. A little meditation never hurt.

Sometimes you have to travel a long way to find what is near

It's the weirdest thing how people come in and out of our lives. The timing, the context, the first impression; never quite how we imagine. How we can go our whole lives without someone and within a matter of days, we can't imagine life without them. The opposite seems to hold equally true; how one minute someone can be everything to you, and the next, you're but a distant memory in their daily grind. The beginning though, the transition from strangers to more, it ties back to the German word, "fernweh." I first heard it a few months ago while fulfilling a dream of mine to help someone start a family. The word quite simply describes the sense of missing something you haven't known or didn't know you wanted. For me, at that time, the word described the act of starting a family. Today, it describes that stranger you never knew you fit so well with. Though surreal to look back on that first glance, the timing that seemed(seems) perfectly wrong, there is no escaping the fact that your paths crossed for a reason. I don't know what to do now. You've quickly become a part of my routine and just as quickly, I've been forced into the shadows. A necessary step in being able to give yourself fully. Trouble is, at the end of the day, who is to say who you will be ready to give yourself fully to? You can't predict magic. Fate. All you can do is wait. Stretch to the capacity of patience. Not sacrifice yourself in waiting to know how you fit or bend around another. “Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure.” Paulo Coelho

#paulo coelho #momentshared

I come from a family of ramblers. Not necessarily the adorable nervous talker kind but the 6 minute voicemail about nothing. The kind of ramblers who can talk for hours without saying anything. I sometimes wonder if this is a defense mechanism for those who are [purposely] challenged in the art of expression. As a product of our parents and our parents' parents, expressing oneself has been riddled with pressures for clarity, structure, purpose, grit. Even thumper's dad in the childhood classic Bambi lived by this ethic; if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. Except we, as a family and a society, have taken this one step further. We sugar coat the harsh and necessary criticisms and fail to articulate emotions of joy and love. In our house, you may have talked a lot but you didn't say much. Watching the relationship between my grandfather and mother or between my parents flounder in the absence of communication taught me to run, whole heartedly, towards and away from feelings and the expression of them. The "feelings" we try so desperately to assign meaning to as we build our understanding of relationships and the universe are simply words. They are our best effort to describe, within the construct of the heteronormative world, our relationships to others and to our environment. We can choose to apply these words to the predefined dialogues they exist within. We can use them, like roses, to generate a response -ideally a truly visceral one- in the recipient. Or We can show the way we "feel" without the weight of somebody else's language or definition. We can use our bodies and actions to create an experience that stimulates the warmth, closeness, serenity we associate with love. We can also use these indispensable, invaluable tools to cut. It is only now, looking back, that I begin to identify the intended meaning in actions and attempts to express "feelings" from my formative adolescent years. It is my mother saying for the umpteenth time, "it's not what you say but how you say it," that provides a backdrop for my ability (or inability) to interpret your expression of emotion or feelings. Let's not fret about the words or their place in society. Let's create our own language to account for the indescribably inexplicable. For the "feelings" we never think we deserve.

#expressyourself #queerlove

coral-vellichor

“I am hopelessly a lover and a dreamer and that will be the death of me” -rupi kaur

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