That is actually the title of a group of poems I wrote several years ago. I was flooded with so many complex and heavy and confusing emotions. I knew as I poured them all out that not all of them were rational. I knew that it was not as dreary as some of them indicated. I knew that life would – as it always does – even out and be glad again. I knew all of that….but sometimes I have to…pour it out. I have to feel it all. I guess logical people would call it wallowing. But sadness or pain or emotion or whatever one calls it…for me, if it just builds and I just….hold it to myself and pretend it doesn’t exist…it just eventually overwhelms me.
So I write again, and again I ask whoever reads to forgive the flood.
I think Sir is…angry, perhaps? at Himself over the recent events. I am not sure. I have felt…strange and disconnected more than I would like lately. Less secure. I have wanted to cry, and sometimes I have, but most often I just sit…or sleep. I can allow my inner monologue to speak too loudly, so I have shaken it off over and over. But….something is different. Something is….
I find myself sitting at my laptop at night….long pauses in between in each message, whereas at one time the fingers flew as we talked back and forth. I haven’t drained the battery of my phone with a single phone call in awhile. I knew Sir was quitting smoking. I know He has had things on His mind. I have sent encouraging notes and left funny, flirty messages from time to time. Where IS that line between staying open and reaching out and being…a bother? I feel that “old fear” trying to squeeze my heart. The fear I had done so well to lay aside. The fear leftover from people who are nothing like Sir.
Distance is hard. It takes a toll. I know that Sir will not want to do this forever…….He is older and his children are grown and He is free to do more than this. I knew when I made the deliberate choice to hold nothing back in my heart, to give all, to trust completely, to love with abandon, that there was always risk.
I just didn’t know the thought of that risk or the slow sense that sand was slipping through my fingers would make it so hard to breathe.
Yes, my emotions are raw and exposed. I am so much more fun when I am funny, flitting, effusive, smiling. But hurt hurts. It just does. It has been an emotions week as a sub and an emotional week in my personal life as well. These are times when I think maybe I should take a blog break. I’d much rather make people laugh and smile than subject them to my tears.