Ode to You

Words escape me so I borrow another's:

I do not love you as if you were a salt-rose, or topaz,   

or arrow of carnations the fire shoots off..  

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,   

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms 

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; 

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, 

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.   

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,  

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,   

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

- Pablo Neruda

No fears and limitless, MHF

One Month.

4 weeks. 30 days. 720 hours. 43,200 minutes. 1,296,000 seconds.

Until the three year anniversary. 

Already preparing myself, the torture, nightmares, sleepless nights, and loneliness have commenced. Depriving myself of everything, I am going into my great state of depression. My hours of darkness are consuming, overwhelming, and engulfing me- just like the ocean did to you, to me. 

Limiting myself to see very few people as possible, Michael, I find myself craving to see one. For this person, despite my mess, has somehow captured my heart and I his. He is the one person that I open up to, he is the one person that I want so desperately to be vulnerable with, he is the one. 

Whenever I see my captivator, we end up talking about you. This past time, he said a comment that I just cannot seem to get out of my mind. He said that it was weird to think about me having a brother as he has only seen and known me as being an only child. Honestly, Michael, I view myself as an only child. I have repressed you to the point of thinking that you were a fantasy. Our twin connection has died. And sadly, I mourn the loss of that more than you. Am I crazy?

Thinking on his comment more, I realized that we have both lived full lives without one another. He was married before. Already vulnerable, open to a family, open to love, I do not know if he will ever be ready for that commitment again. He also has been in two wars, seen and faced death, seen generosity, I do not know if he will ever be selfish again. From a broken home, I have faced many battles, have seen hatred, have had my soulmate by my side. I do not know if I am willing to give up the life that I have dreamed, the life that I was supposed to have. 

I thought I knew the life that was waiting for me. Twice. In my first life, Michael, we were supposed to grow old together. You were not supposed to leave me, you were supposed to survive. The lone ranger who dove in to save you, was in fact supposed to save you while you were still breathing. We were both just supposed to have been scared and scared from the rip tide. It was not supposed to take a life. 

My second life, life without you, was when I was going to be married to the one who holds my heart upon his return from Afghanistan. I built up my life imaging that dream. Shattered, I am now planning our two different lives. Opposite coasts, opposite feelings, opposite dreams yet always to remain in each others lives. 

In my third life, after giving up everything, I make the second biggest decision of my life: I move. Florida, being both healing and inspiring, is my destination. Whether or not I get into graduate school, whether or not I find a job, whether or not I find you, I may just find myself. Feeling lost, overwhelmed, and confused, this move is key. I need to find me, find the person that I am to become. For finding myself might lead me to my captivator, finding myself might lead me to finding our twin connection, finding myself might lead me to finding you within me, finding myself just might lead me to the life that is waiting for me, a life filled of sparkle and glitter. 

4 weeks. 30 days. 720 hours. 43,200 minutes. 1,296,000 seconds.

Until my third life starts.

-

No fears and limitless, MHF

The Ocean

When I arrived it started to pour, just like the day you died. Ironic, isn't it?! For those two hours, I watched the rough waves, knowing they were filled with rip tides. Beckoning me, I walked in the sand and dipped my toes in the salty water. That was it. I did not feel anything. The rain washed away my emotions, leaving me numb. Drenched and feeling nowhere near closer to you, Michael, the ocean defeated me once again. I left shivering, cold, and empty- just like three years ago.

I was not going to go back. I felt that going back would just be torture. I felt that the rain was telling me something. It was a warning sign, a sign saying that it was too soon. But then I remembered looking up at the sky before I left. I saw the sun peaking through the clouds. I caught a glimpse of a rainbow forming and I knew. I knew that that sign was bigger than the rain. I knew that I had to see the ocean one more time.

I went back alone. Running up to the ocean, I did not know what to expect. This time I did not dip my feet in the ocean nor did I walk on the beach. This time I stayed away, put some distance between us. This time tears came. I let them drown my face. Unafraid of how I looked and who would see me, I beckoned you while staring out at the vast ocean.

Before you died, my tears were saved for my pillow. For me, tears represented weakness which represented vulnerability. Before you died, I would hold onto my tears until my throat burned and eyelids turned red. Before you died, I was closed off.

After you died, I discovered that tears represent strength. After you died, I became unafraid and untamed. After you died and when my tears come, I just let them flow until my throat burns and eyelids turn red.

After you died, I am still closed off. After you died, I am open to the idea of opening up. After you died, I became vulnerable. 

No fears and limitless, MHF

Broken until Whole

I broke a promise to myself. I never wanted to return to Florida, never wanted to face the place that killed you, that almost killed me. Filled with too much heartache, pain, and loss- West Palm Beach and the ocean would never see me again...or so I thought.

Michael, I just got back from four days in Florida, in West Palm Beach, in paradise. Instead of anger, hurt, and tears, I found inspiration. 

This notion of inspiration was surprising, refreshing, frightening. For I wasn't expecting that to be my reaction, wasn't ready to be hit with awe.

---

Michael, I didn't go to Florida to torture myself. I went to feel closer to you. I went to completely lose my breath.

Instead of losing my breath, I had too much. Overwhelming feelings of love and support washed over me while I was there. Feelings that I was longing for, feelings that I need, feelings that I want.

Now I can't stop thinking about Florida. First using it as my escape, now using it as my way to heal and move forward.

No fears and limitless, MHF