The Truth About Us

The truth about us, you and I, is we are so different we are the same.  I long for you to see me. My truth.  Validate my possiblity and give me what my soul craves.  Recognition.  Affirmation.  Solace. Love. Eternity.  Yet the more I cry out for you, the more I realize the inevitable.  You cannot contain me and will never give me peace.  It’s impossible.  The truth hurts and the truth about us is.  We are broken.

Isn’t it so funny that the things we need in life are sometimes the most elusive?  As I watch time tick-tock away, I’m slowly coming into the realization of who I. Am.  And the more I expose my truth the more I see that we, though cut from the same cloth, live worlds apart and will never cross paths.  And so this battle I’ve been fighting to get you to see me, really see me, for who I am and not who you want me to be is futile.  A battle I’ve been fighting that I now know I will never win.  Why?  Because you cannot see your own reflection so how can you ever see mine.  And in realizing this I am now free to Let. You. Go.

Go away.  Be free like a whisper in the wind. Fly free my love.  Free me from this pain.  Free me from this heart aching desire to be seen by you, loved, affirmed and cared for by you.  Not in the way you give, but in the way I need to receive.  For when it’s all said and done what really matters most is that we, both you and I, become who we are destined to be.

And though our paths may converge from time-to-time, ebbing and flowing and doubling back again to the soul sick place of our birth, in the end there’s only one you and only one me.  And until we can see each other’s soul clearly for who we are and not who we presume the other to be, then and only then can we be free to travail this impossible impasse.

The truth about us is … we love deeply.  Fiercely. Forever and a day.  Our loyalty cannot be rivaled.  We are superiorly connected.  We drink from the same cup of broken love and we vomit the same soul sick pain, yet we carry it differently, holding it, carressing it, sipping from it’s hot brew. And we each reflect our pain as only we can shining light into the cavernous places of our lives hoping and wishing that others will not see the truth.  We are hurt.  You and I.  And until love can guide us to a better understanding of who we both are, and who we can eventually be for each other, then the sad, sad truth of it all is we will continue to hurt.  Us.

So I splish-splash my pain in plain black and white words tumbling from the well of my heart. Words laid barren before a vacant yet observing world who will never understand me or where I come from.  And yet, I will continue in this way not for your benefit, but for my own.  For my life commands this of me.  To purge pain my pain so that for some stretch of time and for but a moment my pen can lay my burdens down and help me find peace within to give voice to this truth. About us.

Forever & Always,

Shani

 

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