Snuggles
Snuggles
I snuggle next to my little sloth
Her bright eyes shining at me
Laughter across her face
I feel the soft warmth of her
All around me when I kiss her cheek
She smells good
It’s nice to be held in her arms
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I’m Not Ashamed That I Loved Her
Byjack
She told me that I would have been ashamed to tell my family or my therapist. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true because I would have explained that I loved her.
I loved her when she told me that when I left she cried for so long she threw up. I knew then she must have seen something special in me just like I saw something special in her.
I loved her when she made me laugh and smile at the stupidest things. I loved her when we would banter back and forth with insults.
I loved her when she told me that I needed to tell her when I got to my hotel late in California because she was scared she would lose me.
I loved her when she sent me a playlist of songs, beautiful songs, handpicked by her.
I loved her when she tried. Even when I made her uncomfortable. Even when I was mad at her.
I loved her when she was tired and would open up about the things in her life that troubled her. Things about her family. Things about her life.
I loved her when she told me she read my blog every morning.
I loved her when I was needy. So annoyingly needy, but she was nothing but caring and reassuring.
I loved her when she would ask me why I was ignoring her, if I was driving and couldn’t respond right away.
I loved her when I came back from a meeting and would find so many messages from her, like gifts waiting to be opened.
I loved her when we used to talk on the phone for hours, and it never felt longer than a few minutes.
I loved her intelligence, her passion, her humor, her taste in music, her compassion and warmth, her emotions, her feminine side. She understood everything I said to her. Whether it was a dumb joke or my life philosophy. She had a deep emotional intelligence. She knew when she was avoiding the truth and what the truth was. She was immature at times. She gave up easily. She was self-destructive. She preferred to avoid her problems instead of dealing with them. She liked distractions. She was vindictive when she was angry. She liked to cry. She was embarrassed easily. I loved her for all of that.
She tells me now everything was a lie. What a beautiful lie to love.
To Explore Love
Byjack
Who She Is For Me
When I’m with her
I feel I can be so ugly
So weak
So bad
So hurtful
And yet I feel safe
Like I can stop checking
Her face for signs of anger
Stop feeling ashamed, worried
It surprises me how calm I feel
When my mask is off around her
Her acceptance like a balm for my soul
Her love can
Make her helpless
Like the most beautiful creature
So vulnerable
She would endure
Pain if it means my pleasure
I like to explore life
And uncover it’s discoveries
Now I can have someone to share them with
It’s like
She can hear music in my mind
Of imagination, of beautiful ideas, of glory
And she smiles at me
Like we have a joke only we know
When I am struck with pain
Like an animal looking for its home
I seek her warmth
And her love is like a blanket
I can snuggle deep within
Protected from the world
Sometimes, we are just laughing
She’s shining as brightly as a star
It’s like the kind fun
You only find
As a kid on a playground
When she is hurting
I want to take her pain
Spread it around
So I can see her smile again
She is strong-willed
And I’m grinning
When she leads me by the hand
And shows me the world
Through her eyes
And all I can think sometimes
Is how much I love her
I Was Wondering What Would Happen If
I feel open
Like a canvas ready for paint
No future
No expectations
No obligations
Only action
Or no action
I didn’t pick up the phone
Except for the time
When I really felt like it
When I open my mouth
My words are driven
By the moment
In the freedom
Of saying fuck it
I’ll do what I feel like
I dream at night
For a relaxed afternoon
Sipping tea
And beauty
Both sweet and ordinary
When when I’m done wondering
We pass on
With happy memories
Like the lasting sweetness
Of a candy
Melted in your mouth
These two poems are comparing the feelings I have for two things – the girl who I want to wait for, and the experience of dating around that I want to explore in the meantime. I was trying to reconcile them and understand how they can coexist.
Some thoughts:
- I used to think I had to be super upfront about not wanting anything serious when dating. I don’t think so anymore. I will only explain if asked by the girl or if there comes a time where I feel I need to explain it (she is getting too invested). Most girls don’t even care until they develop feelings since they have an abundance of men.
- I used to reach out to people even when I didn’t want to (usually because I felt guilt since I knew the girl liked me and I didn’t want to hurt her/lose her). I’m not gonna do that anymore. I’ll basically treat them like guy friends. If there is something I want to say, or do with them, I will reach out. Otherwise, I’ll say nothing, make no effort.
- I’m afraid that I will mess up the beautiful connection I have with the girl I am waiting for by dating. I decided to stop pushing down that fear. It is happening for a good reason. As soon as I feel scared, unsafe, or distracted I should just stop dating and refocus on her. I never went into this to replace her and I should keep her as my top priority.
- I worry about meeting women so attractive I will forget about the girl I am waiting for. Honestly, this might happen at first, but I think at the end of the day, personality matters much much more to me. I think I would only be distracted by looks because I haven’t dated before. As long as someone is attractive ENOUGH, if I love them, they will be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.
- Overall, I should worry less about hurting women since they aren’t like men (have only one or two women to talk to). They usually have lots of men and could care less if I stopped talking to them. I can still be compassionate without overcompensating (for my fear of being an asshole).
The Invitation From Life
Byjack
A few days ago, my coach asked me a powerful question. I don’t remember what it is but I came up with this poem.
the summer sun on the blue pool
smell of chlorine, flip flops on the concrete
the late nights in your city, lights on long streets
big dreams in a small classroom on a paper on the board
paint covering the canvases, dripping off the walls
life has always been waiting
for you to be recklessly, wildly, lovingly creative
This led to me deciding the most powerful question in this whole poem is “why has life always been waiting for you”?
I felt in many ways this is true. I live in a wonderfully creative city. I have a youtube channel, a coaching practice, a well-paying job with lots of free time. Life is waiting on me to make a move.
We Played A Game
Byjack
We Played A Game
The other day
We played a game
It had butterflies in it
My heart felt like a butterfly then
Light in my chest
Now it feels more like the stones
I picked off the ground
Heavy
And painful
As if I swallowed it
And it got stuck
Halfway down
We joked about her being a housewife
I would like that
To put everything that stresses her out
Safety away
And the only thing she would have to worry about
Is me
My desires
And the hunger I have
Like a fire
So ravenous, it threatens to take us both
We could take care of each other
Like in the game
But life isn’t a game
It’s not enough to just don’t starve
You have to forge your path through life
Create the road you walk on
I would be happy to be her home
Her comfort
If she could just find her way to me
She Knows
Byjack
She Knows
That calling is very important to me
That I only ask when I really want to
That I’m tired and lonely
That it’s excruciating to see her having fun
With others
When she refuses to play with me
That is why she gives me vague answers
In hopes that she won’t disappoint me
She knows
The lengths
I’m willing to go to
To make it work
Maybe she just cannot give me
What I need
Or maybe
When she’s upset
She cannot see anything but the negative
Forgets all the happy times
Forget the fun we had
How well we work together
Before she stopped listening
The love we shared
Before the angry words
How much she wanted to reassure me
Before she was afraid
How much she liked being mine
Before she wanted to push me away
The nights when she doesn’t want me to get off the phone
And told me I was right
That we always understand each other better
Be more real
On a call
I need rest
A very long one
Away from all of this
So I know
What is best
For me
Focus on what I want
For a moment
It takes strength
To get past all the mess
To true understanding
And to part of a relationship
That is secure and loving
It’s like pushing an elephant
My feet are dug in
The struggle goes on
And on
Workpost 13: Inspired
Byjack
I feel tired. And yet I feel so inspired.
I ran with the ideas last night, of dance and music and I can say I feel extremely sad. Something about how much I miss this part of me. I feel sad about the weight I’ve been carrying around for so long. I feel sad because sadness acknowledges the pain in the world without shying away from it.
I watched this video last night:
I remember in art there is no right or wrong way to go about something. Just like in life. I feel we forget that a lot.
For some reason, I feel the desire to write stories. Here is a space for some freewriting:
A shark was washed onto the shore. That was the day when I asked my next door neighbor Amy to marry me. We were both 12 at the time. Amy was a quiet sort of girl, not shy, just took a while to think about things before she talked. When she did, she didn’t say much.
She looked at me up and down as if she was trying to size me up.
“So what do you say Amy?”
I wonder if this is how the shark felt. He was already dead when he was on shore, but his eyes seemed to look at you as if to say…well? What’s up?
“I don’t know,” Amy finally responded. Her fingers figeting.
“You don’t know?”
“Yea.”
“That’s ok!” I said. I was 12 and I felt invincible…
I feel sad because of how much of this I repressed within my self.
In terms of work, I feel I’ve done the experiment and I can officially say to myself, working on too many things at the same time does not work towards my strengths. I think I need to focus on one focus every day. If I get to a second one, then that’s good. Also, I can have many low effort progress toward every goal, but it can’t be the main focus.
In doing one main thing, I might be able to go to bed much sooner which is something of great concern to me.