how
How do you know it was real if it doesn't hurt when it's over; If the absence doesn't devastate you in some way? If you let it go, how do you remember the magic you once held? Are you just supposed to let it fade into non-existence? How?
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@justdoni
how
How do you know it was real if it doesn't hurt when it's over; If the absence doesn't devastate you in some way? If you let it go, how do you remember the magic you once held? Are you just supposed to let it fade into non-existence? How?
You will not find love, But it will find you. You will not learn to overlook your weaknesses, But you will learn to better see your strengths. You will not be forgiven, But you will move on. You will never be perfect, But you will feel whole. You will realize, in attempting to become enough, That you have always been.
I can feel you slowly creeping back into my soul, As if finding your way home.
Why is it so hard to just let this nothing go?
I am not a morning person. Never have been. And I donât expect that to change any time soon. I have however been trying a little exercise in perspective.
Each morning between grumbles and eye-rolls, while still trudging through my apartment in a zombie-like pre-coffee phase, I stop and thank God.
I thank Him for the ability to stand in front of the mirror and scowl at my reflection. For the job I do not want to go to. For being alive and consciousâawake, even if it is way too early.
Am I automatically happier? No, not really. Â (Happiness, of course, requires caffeine.) What I am is grateful. Iâm more mindful of my privileges, however small they may be. Â I am aware that things could be so much worse.
Itâs easy to find reasons to complain, but just as easy to find reasons not to.
I am learning to swallow my pride. Though it tastes rank like years old weakness And feels like rust-worn razor blades going down.
It fights with untamed claws to climb back up and taint my apologies; To hang from my words and twist them into: Iâm sorry if you felt⊠instead of: Iâm sorry that I didâŠ
I am learning to swallow my pride Though it burns like bitter acid and molten metal from the earthâs core. Though I cannot keep it down. It rumbles in my stomach, refusing to be digested. Demanding to be released.
It is just like poison inside of me, And I cannot forget what Iâve ingested.
It bubbles back up and lodges itself in my throat, Threatening to choke the life out of me.
I wash it down with tears, and more sideways bent apologies. I force it back with thoughts of what I stand to lose if I let it be.
I search endlessly for its roots, in the hopes that it may be upheaved. I pray for it to pass and be flushed into the raging seas.
I am fighting to swallow my pride.
I am fighting for you.
Potential...
You canât run from what is within you. Youâll carry the weight of your potential around and unless you release it, it will pull you down. Potential is heavy. It is weighty because it has to be, because it is the muscle that brings your purpose into reality. (And as we know, muscle weighs more than fat.) Potential is the strongest muscle you have. Exercise it and it will become easier to burn away the fat â aka those fears and insecurities. Exercise it and it only becomes stronger. A lot of us settle because we can feel the greatness inside of us, and the weight of it is intimidating. We keep it inside for fear that if we let it out weâll have to hold it up. And what if weâre not strong enough?
Youâre worried about nothing, because of course you are strong enough.
Itâs in you. Itâs yours. You can handle it.
Everything I love turns to broken. Everything I touch ends up hurting.
I never meant to do it to you, I just thought your love could cure the destruction in my palms. Â Or, in the least, make you invincible to the threat of my harm. I was wrong.
Iâm sorry. I wouldâve spared you if I knew.
Our hearts once beat so perfectly in sync that the groove echoed in the creases of my palms every time I reached toward you. Now, the bass line clashes with the melody. Sharp words are thrown and everything seems to fall flat.
Iâm just waiting for the silence.
Relax. What you need will find you.
Doni @justdoni
I canât seem to forget not one single thing about you. Not the way you smell. Not the way you smile. Not the way you lie.
Free yourself. For you are the only one who can.
Doni @justdoni
Upon request I press the button, Freeze the moment in time.
Forever capturing their love While fearfully contemplating the loss of mine.
Overcoming Perfectionism...
Perfectionism prohibits progress⊠and purpose.
We put too much pressure on ourselves to see the end at the beginning. To have all our ducks in a row and a perfect plan that accounts for every âwhat ifâ and 'maybeâ because, you know, âfailing to plan is planning to failâ and God forbid we look anything less than perfect at any given moment.
Life is a learning process. Youâre never going to have all the answers or feel fully and completely ready. But you will likely be ready before you feel ready. Donât doubt yourself.
I canât even begin to count the number of times I held off on something because I didnât feel ready. Or needed everything to be perfectly in place and thoroughly planned before moving forward. But the pressure of getting things perfectly in place and thoroughly planned always overwhelmed me to the point that I got nothing done. Freedom to make mistakes means the freedom to learn. If you donât allow yourself the pain of the former you wonât get to the benefits of the latter.
Kill perfectionism. Whatever you want to do start now. As unfinished and unprepared as you think you are, chances are youâre more ready than you know.
All I know of you sums up into this:
You are a strong woman. You are a strong-willed woman.
You are not nearly as strong as you think you are.
Heaven Every Day
Loving you,
Wanting you,
Needing you,
Pleasing you.
Touching you,
Holding you,
Watching you,
Teasing you.
Late at night
All alone,
Fast asleep,
Dreaming you.
Only you
Take me to
Heaven every day.
I had all these things I wanted to say to you, All these ways I wanted to question you, All these complaints I wanted to launch at you;
Then I saw you
And none of it mattered
Looking Into Me I Failed to see
The Treasure Had not been looted, But buried.
Under the exes
In a chamber Of the heart One could only find If led by Sincerity and authenticity; And a capacity For The Unconditional.
Luckily I caught a glimmer Of its sparkle Reflecting deep behind your eyes. While Searching you Searching me I found relief.