can i make a trade?

“sometimes a hope has to be put to death in order for God to raise it back to life.”

i have been hopeless before. there were hellish times in the darkest days of abuse when i believed nothing would ever change. i don’t know what kept me on some days — my imagination, i guess. pretending to be in another life, another world. i was kept alive and survived by fantasies and belief systems that i would have to do away with later to move through the healing process.

having gone through and survived a life like that (which almost seems unreal to me now) is probably what keeps the flame burning in me despite the people and circumstances which are trying their damndest to snuff it out. the impossible is possible with You Know Who, but when letters, prayers, tears and counsel have done nothing and will do nothing to change the circumstances, i am now left having to just move the hell on with my life. to figure out how to embrace heartbreak. i just can’t understand it. i know it’s possible because of everything that has happened to me — and it’s not  like i’ve always been willing or eager to change.

i know i don’t have all the answers. i know i’m not perfect. i know i’m foolish and naïve and have cared too much for someone who doesn’t give a fuck…but, God, why? why have i had to come back here, feeling so hopeless and helpless when i know it doesn’t have to be that way? but it is. *sigh* it is. and there’s nothing i can do about it.

of course, we all want the miracle outcome. maybe i’ve already met my lifetime quota. i would give it back, though, if it meant my prayers would be answered right now. too bad life doesn’t work that way.


the fighters

i’ve had to do a lot of fighting in my life. i’ve had to fight to survive. i’ve had to fight against the desire to die. i’ve had to fight to recover. hell, every day is a friggin fight…for love, for hope, for relationships, for just trying to focus on what matters…it has made me a stronger person – and for that, i am grateful.

but i truly have come to appreciate those few people in my life who have been willing to step in and throw a few punches for me. when i’m so used to having to go into battle for myself, it catches me off guard when someone jumps in between me and life’s fist for a minute or two. it’s always the other fighters…those who know how to throw a punch. i’m tired, and i know they’re tired, but whether it’s inward or outward, the fighting never stops. and we know it. but we keep going. and when someone else notices…it means something.

so thank you to all the fighters i know. for all the shit you’ve endured and for your willingness to get hit with some of my own, you are something amazing.
we are something amazing.