Late Fragment

And did you get what 

you wanted from this life, even so?

I did.

And what did you want?

To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

                    -Raymond Carver

I feel fragmented and a little overwhelmed, like someone spilled the puzzle pieces of who I thought I was and some will never be found again. And that is a very good thing. They are being replaced with new experiences, emotions, and philosophies. I dig. There are soft chocolate caramel eyes melting into my own, tickling finger tips, languid kisses, and a hand circling from my waist to my hip to my lower back. Warmth. That's what eggs need to develop and somewhere down the road hatch, right? 

I have failed

Because I have tried to be a nice person rather than a good one.

I have worried more about people's thoughts than their feelings.

I have jumped through hoops to get to someone who wouldn't take a step to meet me.

I have not taken care of myself- not been my own priority.

I have been impatient.

In faltering veganism, gluten free, and sugar free.

I have procrastinated with trivial things because the things I wanted were big and scary and difficult.

I have settled.

I have squandered.

I have been both too easy and too hard on myself.

I have not forgiven or let go.

I have shut out and shut down instead of listened and understood.

I have boxed and caged myself because I didn't think I was fit to be seen.

I have hidden.

I have cowered.

The great news: bed time is in 20 mins and tomorrow is a new day fit for breaking old patterns, loving, being present, and taking care of myself. Deep breath. I may have failed at many things, but I'm not quitting.

Being a fabulous mess

I am a sloppy, but beautiful mess right now. A puddle on the ground being slowly absorbed by the dirt below to sweep up nourishment and get sucked up by plants. Messes are so very versatile. I have to remember that I've been through a lot of things that haven't killed me yet... That I'm in the middle of a hell that I completely underestimated and I'm thriving in ways I never imagined. So much to do, but so much to celebrate.

Flamingoes in ballrooms. Black and white wing tips beside my little bejeweled flats in a butterfly step. Being told that I'm cute and that someone enjoys the way my hips move. Invitations. Bathrobes. Gorgeous dresses. Songs so entwined with memories that one doesn't exist without the other. Old poetry read by deep, beautiful voices. The gorgeous pain of missing someone so profoundly that their place in your heart feels like a pile of stones in a desert: a monument to a lost god... Not a monument to him, but an altar or alms to that exquisite feeling of being completely enthralled.

Lots to be grateful for. Lots of work to be done. Lots to create. Painting in the middle of a hurricane some days.