Brown Eyes & A Heart of Gold @tayloranneroose - Tumblr Blog

PeanutButterBlackberryButter

Everyone around me was finding someone all of a sudden, the affection mutual. I was “stuck” in the friend zone, after years of closeness, knowing my turn was around the corner. I knew I was right, I had to be right.

Everything I was experiencing was nothing but raw energy wielding, desire abundant, pure & destined connection. And to give up affection in the process of that pursuit felt like I was going backwards, away from the goal “we” were heading towards. I cared about me, my goals, what I thought was right.

I would’ve been crushed either way, giving up a part of him or giving up all of him. But my self-righteousness, my lack of real love to give (in all its patience, acceptance, generosity, and yes boundaries), is what lost me him. It did not crush me like I thought it would, it killed me.

I died when he left. But what was birthed in his place was more of myself, more of the divine to live and breathe through me.

It’s taken me years to realize I haven’t forgiven myself. For not knowing better. For creating something I didn’t want. For hurting someone I loved. For not loving them better. For not healing faster. For feeling the reality that I feel. For a jar of peanut butter not being enough. For demanding one more time.

My confusion justified, my actions abhorrent. If anyone ever treated me the way I did him, I would’ve left immediately. He gave me so many chances. I don’t think he wanted to give me up, but he did for my best chance, and for his. As much as it causes me to feel small, foolish, and like a child, his sacrifice was correct. I would’ve never learned what love was if he hadn’t given me up.

Today I would give anything to open the cardboard-wrapped gift of extra crunchy peanut butter. To have the hindsight to know it was all I ever wanted, and he gave me everything I needed.

2020

one year later to post, and you are still the one on my mind.

i am still drawn to you, we continue to come together.

and i’m still writing after watching satc.

i told you it’s felt like we’ve lived 8 lives together, you said yes we have known each other for some time now.

some time after distance. some time after heartbreak. we continue on, some times.

in my head once i’m alone i wonder what i want. i often go off what i want.

yes i am learning to ask what i need and i told you a few things. thank you for telling me i should be open with what’s on my heart, so i can be light again.

i wonder if it’s dark to think too far ahead.

will we always be in love? will there always be back and forth? (turns out i was the other one who had commitment issues) i’m scared for it to maybe end again, yet my feelings don’t end and the future i see doesn’t end. i just know that future will look different than i can imagine. i can’t invent but i can create. i cant give into my impatience, knowing it’s mostly with myself not being able to fully choose the one who i know i need, not just want.

i see pictures of us. i do not feel pain or sting. i see wonder & moments shared and i think how many more moments are possible for us?

we are ever changing. ever thine, but, ever changing.

my vision has adjusted, but i’m not ready to admit my doubt to myself mostly because i want to be in those moments with you. you ask me to be present to those feelings and moments with you. my brain takes me forward knowing i am ever changing, i do not want us to outgrow each other.

i bought new glasses in the summer. 2 pairs. you bought new glasses this winter. 2 pairs.

do i admit this doesn’t have to be a mirage? have we both reached 2020 vision?

Ever (sex & the city)

I miss your warmth.

I miss your grown out hair.

I miss you forgetting to take off your glasses before sleep.

I miss putting my freezing feet beneath you.

I miss your pats on the leg.

I miss hearing “welcome home.”

I miss your incredulous smile.

I miss your side eye.

I miss you scooting your body up to mine as the bitter cold consumes, and the morning repeats.

I miss learning Hindi.

I miss you.

After a day and a heart attack.

I don’t miss these finger aches.

“Ever thine, Ever mine”

Ever longing.

Compare.

Very much trying. Too much effort. Not enough offered. Once yes. A fourth no. It all ends. The psychopath gets hers. The other has a family. After a month. After a day. After three years, very much trying, too much effort, not enough offered. Alone still exists. She sleeps in an adult bed now.

DC & Me.

Fear comes in several shapes & sizes. Whether a dash or full frontal, it plagues. It’s cumbersome, rough. Withholding, strangling. We face it a lot. I face it a lot.

I’m spending a weekend away in DC; this is night #2 and I’ve finally convinced myself to sit down and actually write (on my phone & not on a laptop bc badass nailz.)

This weekend was planned with a man who I semi dated for 6 months long distance. He ended things a week after we booked the hotel. Guess who kept the ring - er, I mean room. So I turned it into a self care/spa weekend.

I’ve faced fears of eating alone, driving long distances alone, not knowing anyone, not being able to TALK to just anyone. The unfamiliar, my inner thoughts, & what I really really want. My want is so often pushed aside. For my clients, to make sure I keep friendships, to insure I don’t drive a boy away again. It is a lot of pressure I put on myself - to not want. I am finally feeling it’s weight after setting a weekend aside for only want.

I’ve found myself feeling the urge to work, to actually be doing something to work towards since I have known nothing but for three years. I’ve found myself having to tell myself to slow down my walking speed. Why? Because I always feel pressure to walk as fast as everyone around me & I asked myself - do I want to walk that fast? I have no where to be. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And if I did have somewhere to be? I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Consent with myself? Frightening but yes. I even told myself I couldn’t wear my favorite sunglassss bc they made me seem too alternative since I was already getting stares on the street.

*rolls eyes at self*

The weekend has almost closed and I am finally beginning to feel relaxed, at ease. I’m relieved - except for my sore muscles from my massage & the bottom of my feet from walking - which I CHOSE to do bc I wanted to & didn’t feel pressured from others or too fat to walk 20 minutes to a restaurant, for cake.

I want to let myself want. I need to let myself want. I can do whatever I want to do. It’s my money, my self-esteem, my body, my sunglasses, my appetite, my longing for adventure, my emotion, my intrigue, my voice, my responsibility.

No one else is going to allow every single thing I want but me. That incessant urge to need someone around or to vocalize my mindless processing is a part of me but does not define the inner workings of my life. They are unnecessary for my survival. They are unnecessary for my happiness.

I’m having to take it moment by moment because I am such a planner and agenda person. I want to figure out the puzzle that is the day in front of me. Part of my curiosity, which is good.

In this moment, what do I want?

I mean what do I really really want? No reason, no good answer, just fact.

Tonight it was a burger after my body wrap when I initially planned to try out a Peruvian restaurant. But I just wanted to stuff my face with a huge burger after only eating half a salad for lunch (which I also wanted to do).

So I did. And I feel good.

I’ve told myself for a while that I need to follow where I feel peace. I tell others that ALL the time when they ask for advice and it opens ALL their eyes. I haven’t felt at peace in my mind for some time now. It’s been a bit restless; my soul has had no reprieve.

Yet peace still sprouts & want still peeks around the corner in anticipation. And okay, yes, now I am listening. And it’s so good to see you, friend.

“His words were apologetic, but in fact he was putting himself in a position of power over her.”

Battle Royale

Seaweed.

I feel an unending need to prove myself in dating/relationships. It’s unhealthy. I’m too attached. But I feel like I just. can’t. stop.

If someone doesn’t text back for a day or so, I will convince myself to detach emotionally. To move on. I will start talking to other guys, redownload dating apps. It’s too much too often. It easily feels like a spiral as I try to prove to myself something isn’t ending again, that I’m not to blame, and I still “have it.”

I mostly attribute this anxiety to my earliest tastes of a relationship. I consistently had to prove myself while simultaneously hiding true intentions to a public eye & deep emotions to the one I cared for.

I proved myself for years and got nowhere. That I had it together, even though everything fell apart and I was left with nothing after a quarter of my life was wasted. I had to completely rebuild.

I am experiencing this on mini-platforms of the dating world, and it continues to shake me. As much as I say I am confident, this I still struggle with.

I cannot blame my actions or reactions on this former flame. I take full responsibility for my movements or fear to move. I own this. It is mine to acknowledge; it is mine to let go.

There is much power to explore there. Most likely a power I am searching for in my dating relationships since I could have no control early on, and that is what shaped my early relational experiences to interpret others with.

I do not like this part of me. It remains.

And so do many other fish in the sea.

existential-celestial

“I would like nothing better than to go with you wherever Fate takes you next.”

— Kurt Vonnegut, from “Mother Night,” originally published c. 1961

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

“Compassion sometimes can be self-destructive. I carried it to the point of self-destruction, and I learned that it was a sin too.”

— Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Rupert Pole written c. January 1953

Hold On To Me

I’ve had a fulfilling day. I’ve done work I love, had a free Sunday with people I love, and enjoyed fresh air and food I love. My emotional tank should be full & balanced.

I am then faced with news about a man I care deeply for. Something great happened to him. He’s receiving congratulations. I don’t know what for & feel I deserved to be told. Why wasn’t I told?

Things are long distance. Times are busy. I share, extend. I do expect the same effort back, but also have to take things with a grain of salt since we are not official. He doesn’t owe me anything, nor I him.

I just feel like just how I want to share big things that happen to me, he would think of turning back to me and sharing his great successes as well.

It’s been difficult for me to process wanting to be someone’s partner. Wanting to make them happy no matter what and willing to sacrifice greatly for it. He is a better human than I. He is more than I believe I can become at times. There are many things I would like to share with him.

It’s been a long time coming and our time has not yet come. Maybe in a few months, yet I know I cannot hold onto this figment for dear life. I have a whole fulfilling life of my own.

I just still want to fill his life with even more.

Maybe he’ll share his news with me soon, maybe I will ask about it in a few months when it’s possible I’ll see him again.

I cannot hold on for dear life,

it makes me forget my life is dear.

I cannot hold on for dear life,

it makes me create a life I fear.

Sick of the Sick during the Sick.

I NEVER cancel on guys. But for tonight I tried to compromise and come up with other ideas bc my stomach is hurting and the dude wasn’t wanting to do anything else but have me come over and chill and dude that’s what I want too but I can’t handle that right now. I am SICK of guys taking it so goddamn personally and getting mad at me. Like at least I’m not ghosting you! I’m just not trying to be in your bathroom...I’m trying to be in your bedroom! And GUESS FUCKING WHAT. If I’m not feeling well, you should support my rest and not make me go OUT IN THE FUCKING COLD when I feel like my stomach is tearing apart. This dude has been super cool but this was not an okay thing. ESP when he was short with me after I tried to compromise with him. Smh. Now I get punished for being ill.

Spoonful of Jam

She doesn’t know how long he’ll stay, the others use her up. He treats her kindly, queenly, which’d be a pain to fuck up. She does not care this young, though even he could be a daddy. He meets her eyes, level-headed revealing care she’s buried. She sees such hope in his frame, not questioning or confusions. He kisses her forehead on the reg ridding her of all illusions. She doesn’t rhyme or use her mind the way his efforts rest open. He shows her a bigger world, one she’s kept soft-spoken. She doesn’t know how long he’ll stay, the others use her up. Admire from a distance, she will, as she sees more golden locks. She fears her loud mouth does not reflect her ever-widening mind. Does he see her as a little girl, or as a woman, an equal kind? She fears her fears are all she releases to his truth and bets. He tells her he wants her body (and more?) and she wants nothing less. She wants to give him a better world, a gift too big for now. He continues with his bustling life, to that, she says, she’s proud.

animalsnaps

When I talk to you, my day just gets a whole lot better.

therelatabletexts (via therelatabletexts)

.Spectrum.

I've been very honest with myself the past few days. Yet I still wrestle with my admittance to... I have genuinely liked a lot of men. So why am I submitting to my Gemini eyes and refusing the obvious? I feel like I'm obvious. I feel like my true thoughts are as loud as my hair, as loud as I pretend my mouth to be. But eight weeks prove to me this is unsteady. I can't control. I can't rush. I can't stay in one place too long or else maybe you'll see me as creepy. I, however, regret to admit I cannot figure out how you see me. That's my entire delimma. Besides my entire delimma being not admitting to myself how I actually feel. I am being meticulously vague and kicking myself, wrecking my mental capacity for much else, other than, you, your danger, your warmth. I fear. I fear being seen as a child I fear my habit of pushing will push you away I fear there's someone else who doesn't have neon hair yet catches your eye I fear I'm reading into things I fear I'm not valuing my self worth I fear we are both too stubborn I fear we only had one drunken chance I fear admittance I fear myself & the wealth of knowledge I have to permanently separate. I'm reminded I'm allowed. I'm allowed to place myself on cruise control & let life just be. But does that mean you'll be mine? Does it mean I'll be yours?

Little Taylor Can't Come To The Phone Right Now

You don't know the new Taylor. The developed eccentricities or knowing looks. But you know the little Taylor. The scared Taylor. The "I just need to be held right now" Taylor. You don't understand the way I think about things now. But you know how teenage Taylor saw the world. You know how she fought to learn how to make it better. You knew a Taylor who needed to be noticed. You knew the most vulnerable Taylor even though The current Taylor is the most honest. Sometimes little Taylor peeks back out again. She'll knock on my skeletal frame a few times. She'll want to be Seen again. Little Taylor knows she wasn't buried. She knows her time simply came to an end and that end was brutal, but peaceful in conclusion. But sometimes, little Taylor needs to be noticed. She knows only one person will notice her. So I'll have to quiet her back down again, reminding her that she can no longer pick up the phone to be spoken to. Little Taylor is tugging a bit tonight. She's being really vulnerable. I know she just wants to feel acknowledged again - like she has a place in the universe. She'll quiet down once she finds some reprieve. She knows she can't stay around too long. She knows she can't really be noticed anymore. The new Taylor handles life differently than before. Little Taylor has specific needs. Little Taylor is still learning those needs aren't needs.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Brown Eyes & A Heart of Gold