Brunch

He climbs into her car and inhales her sweet body splash. The adrenaline rush from sneaking around makes them both shake as they embrace.

“We have to leave, we can’t stay here she’s shopping nearby. Let’s go.”

The driver takes off to the motel as he pulls together the cash he carefully squirreled away without his wife’s notice. They only have a few hours together and can’t waste a second, so the typical area traffic makes them both even edgier.

“Two hours please” she says as they grab the room key. The place is what you expect, a shitty roadside motel. The kind of place built for affairs and day hookers.

The room itself is gross but they don’t care. They have been talking, dreaming, writing about this moment for over a year and won’t let anything ruin it. It’s not about the room, their spouses, or anything else other than their own passion and desire.

The hours fly by as they entwine themselves with reckless abandon. Not a care in the world as they shower off the stench of their betrayal. He texts his wife as they leave and head to the diner for their cover story.

They cuddle up in a booth, play footsie, kiss, and chat. Relive the memory of their deepest darkest secret, the one they will take to the grave. He knows her husband won’t stand for this, even if caught he’ll deny this ever happened. He must protect her and this at all costs, even if it means he loses his wife, he cares not.

No one will ever know the details, even they will have different versions of the same stolen moments. However I like to think that the reality of the story, is far more scandalous than I could ever dream up.

Tied

Tattered and tangled I pull from my pocket

A length of string, but don’t know where I got it

Red in color and as thin as a hair

You almost can’t see it, but I know it’s there

It twists and it turns before kinking in knots

Still have trouble keeping it from my thoughts

Impossible to release and unable to forget

The ending of this story seems to me: dead set

Press me for details and none you will get

For I have secrets here that are too delicate

Sharing with you just doesn’t make sense

I’d rather be elsewhere, please don’t take offense

For that string in my pocket is fit to be tied

And the other end I know I must find

Destiny and Love might await my arrival

But to be truthful I’d be content with survival

I’ll take up this voyage, and set my course

Untangle the line, and discover it’s source

My Love I am coming, it’s frightfully true

There is nowhere to hide, “I’ll find You”

Sea Glass

Tall violent waves crash onto the black sand shores of your lashes as I set sail once more, this time in a gale so great I risk both our lives

The seas I’ve become a master of exploring are calling my name again, and I can’t deny the siren’s song as it beckons to me

I’ve charted what I thought was every nautical mile in that expanse of wilderness, but still there’s more there than before

A new island on the horizon, one brought forth as only land masses can be: By great violence of the earth

The plates heave and press against one another causing quakes and fissures, all while underwater volcanoes erupt, spewing molten rock and smoke into the air

I know someone has been here before me but I do not care, they were not the dedicated explorer I am, and I will not give up so easily

Not because I’m the best one to do it, not because I’m the most intelligent, or even the most talented one to try, but because I am made for the job

Every failure has taught me a lesson for the journey, opened my eyes and put a brand new tool in my kit, giving me strength

It’s my passion, it’s my life’s work, it’s my purpose in this life and I refuse to give into failure, the potential reward is greater than any of the most precious gems

“Do you know even what you were looking for?” I whisper to the wind as I leave the comfort of the dock

Rain pours down in large droplets all around our vessel, and the smell of cooling lava tells me exactly what direction in which to head

Those dark amber pools flickered with bright shots of gold and red, the dark brown smoke around each, and the deep black portals might scare you, but I see the future…

… and I am not scared.

Glass Shards

It was like a slow motion replay

I knew the bullet was coming

I could see it in the distance and yet I did not move

I felt the words on your lips before they passed through them

I knew the answer to the question before I even asked it

and yet still I am shattered

Still this glass heart broke into tiny shards

When you think it can’t be more broken

Just when you think the light is coming

That is when you realize that the light was not the end

but merely the eye of this terrible storm

Hang on tight my dear,

this is going to be a big one.

If I never get better

What if, it never gets better. What if this is all there is? Can I learn to accept that I might never feel better? I might never feel worthy or worth it, I might always feel like a burden. Though this happens less, it still happens. Dealing with my trauma and healing from it makes it wax and wane, but it’s always there.

It’s there in the smile that I missed, in the kind words I didn’t hear. The feeling has nothing to do with my actual worth, and more to do with my illness, but still it remains. As I heal it can get better, but the truth it it’s like any recovery: it’s forever. No matter how good a handle you think you have on it, the universe finds ways to throw you that curve ball.

So I ask myself again, can you live with yourself? Can I go on forever knowing that I will always have this feeling that I am not good enough. That I may never believe anyone will love me unconditionally? That because I don’t have the ability to trust myself, I won’t be able to trust others? What if this is who I am now?

It’s not, right? It’s not because even as I go back now and look at my writing the weak caterpillar, yes woman, blinded by success and money is no longer there. I’m in flux, I am changing, I am capable of change… and I have to see that. If I am ever to break free from this cocoon I must remember a few things:

  1. The only constant is that everything changes
  2. That recovery is forever but it gets easier with time
  3. The time it takes for you to grow is the time it takes, it cannot be rushed or forced
  4. Before you can feel unconditional love from another, you need to have it for yourself
  5. I am a flawed human and will make mistakes
  6. That in the cocoon only at the very beginning and the very end do you know what you are
  7. The in between is just messy goo, self digested and ready for rebuilding
  8. Until I can digest all that was, I will not be able to start putting it back together

Back to eating shit for a while I guess… but hope renewed. Even if I never feel better, I will at some point learn to love and forgive myself for issues that will come up. That I will learn from them and move on. And that even if my trauma wins, I have already done so much good work, and so much good for others, that I should be proud.

If I can learn to have half the compassion that I have for others, for myself, then I am going to make it. You will too.

 

 

Sister

I wish I could peek in your mind and see what you hide

There are moments I see where the real you resides

My dearest half-sister we are so far away

not just in our age, also in how we behave

But there are actions of yours, opposite of mine

that lead me to think it’s finally time

For me to reach out and actually ask

about the awful things in our past

But your telling me no, and refusing my help

saying I need to leave you to yourself

So now that the past is affecting your present

you want me to be there, but I won’t consent

I too am broken, and need some healing

I just can’t be here when you aren’t listening

I’m afraid that what I’ve done is just too much

that you’ll never be open to my rules and such

But I want you to know, if ever that changes

that I will be here to listen to all of the rages

Not just to theirs, but to mine as well

even when I hurt and the tears start to swell

Should that day not come, and our bond break

I hope you know that it is never too late

I am still broken, but now I am ready

to be the support you need to be steady

What happened to us, is not our fault

we don’t have to pretend our heart is a vault

That the lies we’ve been telling are not the end

that we really are worthy of the love that we spend

You are a human with faults and trauma

who always seems to be starting the drama

but if you ever decide to give that up

To open the vault and let it erupt

I’m here to listen and honestly say

that I’m sorry our family treated you this way

That the shit in our past doesn’t negate

all the awesomeness we have innate

You’re strong and great, it’s time you know too

that Ashlee I am actually very proud of you

The fact we survived, is more than most

and I will never forget the hurt we host

This gift I give you is the wisdom of time

even if it came in this strange rhyme:

Don’t let your past define your future

You dear are stronger than our abuser

 

 

Small Miracles

A small shout out to my Fairy Godmother, Frigg, whomever… thank you.  Sometimes you get so busy with your life’s journey that you forget there are side quests to be completed.

Months ago this blog was set up to be a writing space for my husband and I to work on our marriage and our book, but as soon as the ink dried on my account my husband decided to walk away.

Not just from the book, or the blog, but from the marriage as a whole. I was shocked, but it wasn’t deterred.  Rather than just revel in my own pity, I decided to make the most of this and write about the deterioration instead.

Well, thank you world for the slap in the face I needed. Thank you for showing me how far away from my center I was, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow and learn from it, no matter how painful it has been.

In the last several months I have been on a journey, and I am still in its midst. I am growing beyond the cocoon of trauma I was forged in… and the results must now be visible to others.

How can I tell? I just lived a small miracle… my husband said to me on Sunday “you know we should really write that book”.  And I’ve never been happier… or more terrified.

hes-not-wrong-you-know