Birthday Revelations

Love is my oxygen. Its severity leaves me flummoxed. Its intensity leaves me weak. I want, so badly, to be loved I lose all sense of time, reason, self-respect, compassion for others, and most of all: patience. I allow controlled chaos to set up camp in my house. And as I relinquish control, a mismanaged mess replaces what’s left of my life.

Was I out-of-order the day a war was declared upon me? What was I feeling, seeing, thinking, hoping to believe? To hell with the idea of love. I am a bitter fool. And I am seething with rage. My words are, always misconstrued. In fact, I am suffocating and wish to flee. I cannot heal what I cannot see.

For some time, I have been in denial. As I ponder on the explosive events that have brought me full circle (again) I become fixated on knowing why. Hours turn to days. Days eventually become weeks And as the spiral of time continues mounting, I dangle ever so prominently off a cliff. I never learn why. I sadly grow older, lonelier, angrier and more bitter. I’ve lied to myself for so long it has become a second skin.

There is no joy without pain. With every breath, a tide shifts as another wave takes us under. I must change my daily question from “when will I learn?” to “what have I learned?”. Truth equals discovery and my personal happiness must become priority number one. Not moving forward is a risk I cannot afford to take. I will not lose the war; there is wisdom in my wake.