Plans

I had plans.

I had so many plans for how I wanted things to go. The direction of my life was straight in front of me, and I put into works all my efforts towards the ideas and concepts and plans I had in mind. I was blindsided and all my efforts were derailed.

"Why do I continue to try with my ex - knowing I have no future with him," she says.

"Because you have a heart full of stars - full of hope. Because the way you love is too much for you to know what to do with it - for you to know who to share it with. Because you believe in people. In change. In the spark of goodness they have. Even if it's just a little bit. Because you want to see them happy. Because you want to save them no matter what. No matter how far off the deep end they go. Because you want to make sure they make it back to the shore. Because you want to make sure they don't drown - they don't lose themselves in the transition. That's why. That's why you keep giving them chance after chance. That's why you keep letting them back in - apology after apology. That's how big your heart is. How deep your love is. You give them everything you've got. Even when you know it won't work out." - r.m. drake 

If it wasn't made clear in my last post, D and I are no more. As quickly as we came together, and together again, we've been ripped apart again. Something inside me is saying this is the end, permanently this time. D has decided to step away from not only me, but everyone around him. And he made this decision silently; just letting himself disappear from our lives. The only thing keeping him from disappearing entirely is our daughter, and I cannot decide if it is more painful to have him be a semi-available parent, or a completely absent one. He reappears once a week to come around and hold his daughter while simultaneously doom-scrolling some various app on his phone. I usually sit with the

two of them and try to maintain conversation that usually ends up one-sided. This last time I sat silently and he took the pained look that was painted across my face as tiredness. I'm not surprised by this lack of comprehension. Thinking back on it, he really didn't try to get to know me much or learn to read me in any way that wasn't me blatantly telling him exactly what he needs to know. Spoon feeding. So much spoon feeding. I haven't decided if I'm going to continue silently sitting there and being available if he happens to need help. Part of me wants to just had her to him and leave the room and let him figure out why she's fussy or crying. Sink or swim. I had to learn it all on my own, maybe he needs to as well.

I know I made promises early on that I would take care of everything and that we wouldn't burden his life. But I shouldn't have to take care of everything. It's time to grow up and make sacrifices for the sake of your child, and figure out how to actually be an adult. No more making myself and my resources available whenever he's floundering. Figure it out, buddy.

Everyone says "a child needs their dad." But no. It's not that easily put. A child needs a SAFE dad. A PROVIDING dad. A CONSISTENT dad. A dad that understands his family is more important than IMMATURE SELFISHNESS. It is important for a mother to save her child from any harm or toxic people. And yes, that even includes family members and parents. And SHAME on anyone that puts a child's well being to the side for their PERSONAL "feel good" moments. -3am thoughts

But I digress.

I had plans. We should have been in our own place by now. All four of us; me, D, and the two kids. Here we are, yet another year stuck living with my parents in their now overly crowded house, and D in his own across town. Maybe it's better this way. 

I had plans for my pregnancy. I knew how it was suppose to go; how I wanted it to go. It was suppose to be magical, pure happiness and glowing in glory. It was for a while, until D got stupid, and then the last 4 months were just robotic as I shoved all emotion to the wind and tried my damnedest to stop feeling sad all the time. Here I am, still sad.

With my first pregnancy, the whole experience was dealt with in sheer survival mode. It was absolute hell. Then the postpartum depression kicked my ass so hard that I don't remember a whole hell of a lot, and had a huge disconnect with everything including my kid. 

This time, it's the anxiety. The world is downright terrifying, and I don't have anyone to help me navigate the constant worry and never ending fears. Not a whole lot different from the first time. I don't feel as disconnected as before, but the experience has been just as hellish in its own right.

Someone once told me that none of us are actually afraid of the dark; we're afraid of what it conceals from us. We're afraid of having something with the potential to hurt us, standing right before our eyes and not registering it as a threat. People are like that too.

It didn't hurt me. Not "hurt." Hurt is a four letter word. It's short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? no. It didn't hurt. Destroyed, obliterated, desecrated, annihilated, demolished, shattered, or demoralized maybe.... But no. It didn't hurt me. It didn't "hurt" me at all. -Ranata Suzuki

There were so many rituals and spells I had prepared. Pregnancy rituals, birth right rituals, protection spells, welcome home rituals. The works. And as I stumble upon my copy of "The Pregnant Goddess," the waterworks start again. Another ruined experience at the hands of another shitty ass partner.

What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over, and still lives?  - rupi kaur

It's a reminder of why I choose to practice in solitude. I am stronger when I am alone, because my golden heart is both my best attribute and my worst. I'm a pleaser, and I give too many chances. I'm loyal to a stupid fault, and have always found it easier to fight for others than for myself when I'm attached. I love like I've never been hurt. I love hard, and I've yet to find anyone who can handle that. Who can handle me. 

I am stronger alone. Not carrying someone else's baggage, not trying to heal someone else, or pull someone else out of their hole. Not showering support on someone else, while the well of support for me runs dry. I am tired of begging people to love me.

Ah babe, you didn't do anything wrong. He just took advantage of your nature in the most heartbreaking of ways. He used your dependability, your reliability, and your honesty against you. He knew your truth, and that you were 'invested' heart and soul. He used your softness as a revolving door and took advantage of the home it protected. You didn't do anything wrong. You loved the way love wants to be displayed. All in, cards facing up, game face vacant...transparent and glowing. You did nothing wrong.  -Alfa

I'll be ok. Just not today, and probably not tomorrow. I'll make new plans; celebrate my spirituality as a single mother raising warriors. I am learning my wants; something I wasn't allowed to concern myself with before. I am learning it is ok to want; it is ok to demand efforts be put in that match my own. I am learning that I am not being selfish by asking someone to step up and put in the work. I am a complex and multi-leveled individual and that is ok. I am too much wild, too much work for most, but I will not reduce my presence into bite sized chunks that are easier for someone to swallow. You can choke.

Trust the overthinker who tells you they love you. They have most assuredly, thought of every reason not to.  -L.K. Pilgrim

I love on a level so deep it makes the ocean jealous, and I desire a love that matches the depths of my own. I deserve a slow love. Uncomplicated by the unwillingness to grow and evolve. No rush, just sure and stable. Consistent. I deserve someone that is sure of me, sure of love, and that I am sure of as well. So many people think we just want sex. It's not always about sex. It's intimacy we want. To be touched, looked at, admired, smiled at, to laugh with someone. To feel safe; to feel like someone's really got you, understands you. Not having to beg someone to do something with you, and then wondering why they so willingly do it with someone else. Not someone who pits you against others; who laces their words with poison. Crave me, not just sexually, but mentally, spiritually. Crave my scent, my vibe, my company. Don't get me wrong, sex is a plus. But I want to feel beautiful, wanted, loved, and appreciated. I want to believe in love. Freely. I want a mutual understanding that we are on a mission to keep love alive. I want to never go to bed mad. I want conversations, communication. Fun. Unconditional love. At the end of the day, I want to come home to someone who looks at me and smiles as if I am their entire world. And that's not too much to ask for. It is time to start making people understand that it's a privilege to be in my life.

I have so much love to give. I've always been a person who could love someone for all that they are. I could love them for all of the trauma they've experienced, the pain they have endured, and for all of the good and bad characteristics that they possess. They could have a tunnel of darkness within them, and I would follow them into it, without a map, or even a flashlight, and I would do it without hesitation.  -Kaitlin Clark

A woman with a broken past needs to be treated with patience. She needs time to breathe, to heal, to rediscover herself. A mistreated woman will reject love countless times before she gives in, because she's lost sense of what it's like to be treated right. But the beautiful thing about broken women is the wisdom the past has given them and the capacity of love they have to offer. Its endless. I am not afraid of falling in love. I am afraid of being the only one that falls, while the other one pretends. I'm strong because I walk around every day on the verge of tears, and no one even has the slightest clue that I'm not ok. I'm a real person. I struggle and I sparkle. I'm not afraid to say what makes me angry, sad, or what I think is unfair. I'm not afraid to admit that at times I feel worthless, lost, or not enough. I refuse to hide from love, beauty, aliveness, magic, and abundance. I won't edit the sad or messed up parts of my story, or the magnitudes of my triumphs, to make people comfortable.

"I'm afraid of love. And after what I just went through, I don't think I can take it anymore. It's not worth it for me," she said. 

"Please don't say that. Don't believe that. Don't shut your heart because of someone's carelessness. You deserve it. It's just you fell in love with the wrong person. But there is someone out there for you. Someone who's willing to give you what you need. What you deserve. Someone like you. Who's been through hell. Who knows what it's like to be cut deeper than any wound possible. It hurts. I know. But closing your heart isn't the answer. It just isn't. Keep it open. Always leave a little room inside it for someone new Stay strong, baby girl, soon enough, it will all make sense."  -r.m. drake