MeliGoesRogue

Tag: MeliGoesRogue

  • An anti inflammatory

    I don’t even remember how to make the salve. I can feel the stinging and can’t accept that I’m back here again. Who broke you that now you can only love that which you break.

    Everyone sees strength in me and all I see is the girl you broke. How do I get back ?

    I hate her so much. I hate that she made you this. I hate that I believed her. I hate myself for thinking more of people. My legs shaking reminding me of my fragility. How do I ease my mind so my sleep doesn’t turn to nightmares or rather memories of you.

    soon the ratios return and I stand before the mirror almost broken applying the cream to my face. It’s hard to be here again, so many years have passed and still your hands mark me. I try to untangle the web you formed in my mind all those years ago. Your love and the red marks on my body.

    Except this time I am not hiding. This time I can not hide. What would have been my response if the marks on my body had been as before…invisible.

    I’ve been trying to explain you and who I was for the last 48 hours. Shame has flooded me and I have found the dam broken unwilling to hold back anymore the lies I once held as truth.

    I pity you. Truly I do. I pity who we both were and who you continue to be. I hate you and yet as my brokenness is revealed to the world I think of the one who once broke you. It is not love or even compassion I feel but instead an understanding of who I could have turned into without the love of all those who surround me.

    I am trying to focus on myself in these moments as the healing of my face catches up to the healing of the wounds that were reopened. Laying on the floor with you above me, how quickly I reverted to my learned behavior. To lie and wait until the moment passed and soon the monster would be replaced with the man who couldn’t find air without me. But I was never air, I was a drug. But I choose again to no longer be used to reach your euphoria.

    It is only those who know me best that are able to remind me of the strength I somehow cobbled together all those years ago. Every part of my flesh wishes death and pain for you and yet the broken girl inside me calls to the broken boy in you and prays that you would find the strength to break the cycle she created in you. Whether you choose too or not I will not be here. The death of your love lies in the waters i now again rise from. Even if I must choose to rise again each day, he gives me strength and I will Rise. Not in my strength, now I try to see his strength that walked out of that house, that blocked every desire for you and convinced me over and over of the value I needed to place on myself.

    In the words of my heroine and enemy ” I must respect myself”

  • Irretrievably broken…?

    Irretrievably broken…?

    I dare not measure my heart against yours. Yours is the measure of a man that is complete. That has no need of me and yet I cry out in the night for your want of me. I would take all the pain in your heart and carry it in mine. I would do it because I know that you would carry me.

    I take a small part of your heart, your loyalty, fidelity and unwillingness to compromise and I measure it against the fullness of my heart that beats with a vengeance.

    The sky lights above me with no discernible sound to match. Instead the wind blows furiously against my skin. It is a reminder that the darkness is coming. The darkness of the morning when I find you are not in the place I imagined you in as my eyes fluttered to sleep.

    As I have aged I have found the depths with which I love grow deeper and yet my willingness to cry over its loss lessen. Not because it does not pain me so but because the pain brings forth anger and bitterness, while the tears left a trace of hope. Where is my Hope now ? I hear your voice in my head urging me to the hill where I would find it yet my feet find themselves unwilling to make a journey that might end without the answer I have so desperately craved.

    I have not walked this earth long enough to feel the depths of this despair and yet here I sit. Forcing my back against the wind as if it would tire and relent. Leaving me to the night and it’s menacing glow.

    What does it matter now? My attempts to numb myself futile. My heart so full of life and unwilling to be numbed. Try as I might I can not nullify the pain. Instead I retreat into the pain of others, as I watch their distress and their resolution. I sit and pray for my own.

    ” no one is you, but others will do”

    My desire inhales this notion and yet my heart inquired who is it that will do? I push the logic aside searching instead for the fantasy that will quell the loss within me. Shall I turn off that part of me that wants, loves, needs to care. Is there another with the ability to wake me from my cursed sleep like sleeping beauty.

    Have these efforts to find the round peg been in vain ?

    Somehow I am that little girl again, sitting on the grass as the sun sets behind her house, wondering what is beyond the horizon. I stand at the waters edge looking out and still I cannot find it.

    The wind brings forth the drops of water from the heavens urging me out of this ghastly slavery. But the umbrella covers me and the sound of it falling against the canvas only pushes me further into the oblivion I now seek.

    The silent noise fills the air and my ears welcome it’s commands.

    “I am unfinished, I am diminished with or without you….we do not belong together”

  • There’s the window my privacy flew out of

    I’ve always known the ferocious intensity with which I have protected my private life has always been out of the ordinary. I’m not entirely sure I know where that deep desire for privacy and secrets came from…or at least I’m not ready to share that. I have however come to find that there might not be many if any people out there that know truly who I am. I don’t mean that banal bullshit of who I am in this world and who I want to be but rather the me that seems so buried deep within but that really has always been right below the sea level.

    Only God knows what would possess such a private person to start a blog..I’ve convinced myself into thinking that I’m doing this so I can share with my family and friends this amazing adventure I’m setting out on. Yet even as I type the words the little Meli inside nudges me towards the truth. How hard is it to stand before someone you love and tell the truth, it’s actually quite hard. How much easier is it to type it up and send it out into the world and maybe they see it maybe they don’t maybe I’m a few miles away maybe I’m 4,129 miles away. Maybe that privacy I so desperately protect has kept me from finding that which I desire the most.

    I pray that this distance can break the shell of my understanding. Do I no longer wish be the woman that stands at the edge of the abyss and wonders what it might be like to fall into it. What dark wonders would befall or what wondrous light I would find. So much of me is hidden that I think the safest way to pull her out is to go to a country, a land not my own and allow her the freedom to roam the countryside of my consciousness till she feels safe enough to find the tip of my tongue and jump.

    Ireland..Éire

    So many people have asked why I chose to go to Ireland on this grand adventure. The truth is my reasonings are not of my own understanding. It wasn’t as simple as spinning a globe and pointing. There was something primitive in the choice of Ireland a truly “old country” one I could lose and find myself in, a place where the winding roads would lead me to new horizons while safely keeping me from the cliffs edge.

    I wish I wasn’t make the trip myself and yet a part of me wonders if I am. This is not an eat, pray love moment this is a fly, fall and soar moment.  So much awaits me  in that car, that room those cliffs. I feel safety in that unknown because its my own, because those failures and triumphs I will find will be mine to share or mine to keep. I take the hearts of so many on this journey those who know me as best as anyone can know’s this is not a “vacation” this is an accomplishment.

    So here we go…will you fly out the window with me, across the ocean to a landscape unknown to the both of us.

    Oíche Mhaith