Sunday, October 6, 2013

You Don't Wear My Chains

The title of this post was taken from the song Boston by Augustana. 

 I had a really rough day this past week and I must have let it show. 

"Hey are you okay?"

I duck my head and blink back the tears.


"Are you sure? I don't think I've ever seen you without a smile on your face."

I was rather shocked by this but reiterated that I was okay. I tucked this conversation away and later came back to revisit it. If you were to ask John I think he would tell you that most of the time I don't look happy. I guess at home I tend to let the smile drop and just be me for a bit. I'm not ever going to be who I was. There won't ever be a day where the ripple effect of losing Mike will not touch my life in someway. It's often irrational and I often don't understand it. All I know is that in my head my irrational thoughts make sense to me. I will always be broken and my mental perception will always be skewed. Most people don't understand it and I'm finding that those who once tried are slowly losing patience with my lack of progression. So, I end with these two quotes.

1 comment:

beth said...

I know it is not the same thing, but people ask me how come I am still messed up over being raped by my ex. I just look at them like they have two heads and think how can I not be? What you experienced would rock anyone. To have everything planned out in your mind, and then the grim reaper shows up and takes it all away. Yes you continue on, yes you found love but there is always a reminder, and while welcomed it is bitter sweet because it is what can never be. I grieve still because I am incapable of loving the way I did before, with the whole of me because that whole was shattered that night and no amount of glue can put me back together. We are both broken in our own way, and we grieve in our own way. So I offer quotes of my own: "Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.”
― Leo Tolstoy

Is Life
by Beth Smith on June 28, 2005. © All rights reserved

The wind of memory
Uncovers hidden scars
Laid beneath the earth
Of my existence

Awakening darkness
Long put to rest
Reviving the pain
Dormant in my chest

Querying fears
Residing behind
The exterior woman
That tends to be blind

Hope and dream
Seem far away
Like dead characters
In this macabre play

Sadness doubt
They are the lead
But then only if I allow
Them to succeed

Pull the curtain
Change the act
Shut down the machine
Creating this attack

When all is silent
I look around
The theatre that is my ground
Is life