Rubix cube of emotions

I’m a loner, yet I am outgoing.

I’m a quiet thinker, yet I’m bold and persuasive.

I’m loud, and yet I’m thoughtful.

I’m tired, and yet I’m energized.

I’m a quandary of so many opposite things.

So when I’m feeling too many at once – stress, tired, anxious, excited, frustrated, whatever else – I don’t know whether to cry, laugh, or scream.

If I hold my emotions in, they eat at me.

I forget little things, but how I felt in a moment stays with me forever.

It eats at me like a parasite.

It drains me if it’s something I should have, could have said.

It drives me if I still could.

I’m independent to a fault.  No one thinks I need to be romanced, held, or coddled.

But every woman needs a little of that.

My strength is a virtue, until it’s not.

I’m an open book in many ways, too willing to share my story.

But when I need to tell something hard to someone I care about, then I freeze.

I’m not one to think highly of my beauty, I often question it at all.

But I rarely question my intelligence, it’s gotten me this far.

I’m the kind of person who would love to be a hermit, until I didn’t anymore.

I think it would just happen like an eclipse of the sun.

It might be years in the making or a rare one time occurrence.

I’m quite the complex body, and quite capable of coming undone.

But no one sees that side of me, most especially those I hold dear.

I find I need even more strength and courage for them.

So when do I get to be vulnerable? When do I get to shed a tear?

Maybe that’s why sometimes it just hits me – the weight of the world at once.

I find myself crying to a song not because it’s that sad or because it relates at that moment,

But because I needed to cry, to let it out, to be free.

When you are so many sides of a rubix cube, perhaps one never solved,

how do you ever find the side that the world should see, always?

I’m multifaceted.  I’m complex.

I’m exhausting and hard to digest.

I’m difficult and a wad of stress most days.

I don’t relax well, I don’t breath or smell the roses.

Not because I don’t want to – I even try, but because I don’t know how.

It might sound foolish or not possible at all,

but I tried yoga, meditation, I’ve tried many things.

Relaxed me is still not very relaxed at all.

And as I age, approaching the big 4-0, it becomes more imminent

that I find a way to unwind.

Life and all the bad things that can happen are looming as much as all the good.

but what if I am not capable of slowing down?

I am meticulous, I’m diligent, I’m calculated.

Am I capable of taking a breath, letting things go, waiting a while?

if only I knew…..

 

 

 

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Just thinking…..

He can be the most amazing creature –

seeing a part of me I don’t let everyone know.

He can be so loving, when he wraps his arms around me at night.

I lie there almost trying to stay awake, to enjoy the depth of it all.

Sometimes we bicker and fight, but that’s to be expected

and it often reminds me of the human nature of our relationship.

I try to put him first, it’s something I always do with that special someone.

And it’s hard when those moments arise where he cannot do the same

or where one of us gets angry or upset.

Oddly, I’m a poor communicator in relationships.

I communicate for a living and I blog and I write,

But when it comes to life and emotions I seal it all up tight.

I want to tell him when I’m happy and sad and angry.

I want to be open and honest and unafraid to do so.

But men don’t like to communicate, they don’t want to hear

or maybe they don’t think they need to.

I found myself writing him a letter the other day to explain something important,

something I desperately needed to say but couldn’t say with words in person.

I guess it’s better that I was able to say it at all,

But I’m a bold outgoing personality.

How is it that to the person that matters most, I can’t find the words sometimes?

Is it fear? Is it past experience biting me? Is it me or is it him? Or is it us?

How do I find the words, in the moment?

Sometimes he gets mad at something and I back down, not because I want to.

I pick my battles as they say, so I decide it’s not worth it.

Or am I being weak?

I think sometimes I don’t know what I want to say, or need to say, or even feel

Until I write them.

I’m a writer at heart.

 

It’s Like a Song

It’s like a song, it wains and waxes.

The melody starts subtle and pounds in full blast.

The words and harmonies on their own are meaningless.

For it is with the melody they take shape.

I hear the song in my sleep sometimes,

like an anthem for my life.

It carries me through the good, bad, and ugly.

I hum along in the car or shower or random passing moments.

The song escaping me from the grasp of a difficult moment or a painful day.

I hold tight to the tune; it’s my safe place.

For my head is a complex vessel,

And only I can ever fully understand.

The song is my way to speak the words,

For which alone have no power, no presence.