Are you still suffering?

I was on my 24th consecutive hour of work; sweaty, hungry, dehydrated, and raggedly exhausted when a patient walked into the urgent consult office where I was posted on call, sat down and said:

‘A long time ago, you fell in love with someone who was not as in love with you, and for that, you suffered a lot.’

I was the clinician, yet without asking a single question he arrived at an accurate diagnosis of my neurosis: perpetual heartbreak.

I felt somewhat violated when he proceeded to tell me that I had one birthmark on my upper thigh and another under my breast, and that I should take off my clothing and show him. He wasn’t spot-on about the birthmarks, but he was correct about the heartbreak. Maybe we all have heartbreak in our pasts, but he really got me when he asked, ‘Are you still suffering?’.

If the imprints on my energetic field from that loss of love are obvious enough for some rando creep to read them like a news headline, I want to change the vibe I’m giving off.

I was still suffering, and in trying to escape my suffering I became a physician, hoping that the overwhelming process of medical training would take my attention away my broken heart- a treatment that provided a temporary distraction at best, but not a cure.

Now with spiritual healing on a level even deeper than heart break and reciprocated love in my life, I am still suffering, but less so.

Sea Change

You came in like a whale

Mapless, I didn’t know where you’d been or where you were headed

Your eyes held the treasures you’d seen and the mermaids you’d befriended

From first sight, you were all I could see- you filled my eyes until they overflowed

I felt so fortunate to behold you, if only for a moment

Your appearance above the surface seemed to be for me alone

I blinked and you crashed back into the depths, upsetting my little boat

The commotion stirred by your momentum smashed me to pieces

I’m still picking them up

You deftly moved on to a far away ocean, perhaps without knowing the wreckage left in your wake

Perhaps you never saw me

Yet my love for you remains deeper than the sea

I wait and watch the horizon, hoping to the moon that the tides will bring you back to me

Though you are not mine to have

Only in my heart could I contain something so much larger than myself

Fairytale

The story of the love of my life was like a fairytale

I followed the promise of the afternoon breeze right to my love

On our first date we went for a walk on a winding, icy path through the woods, during which I fell into his arms repeatedly

The pull into each other’s gravity was too strong to overcome

I got knocked up right away

We planned it that way

But it didn’t stay

I was sick with fatigue, nausea, and depression and didn’t have the time or money to have a baby

I thought he would step up to the role of a caretaker but he had his own self-imposed obligations

Not a day went by that he didn’t lose his phone or his wallet, how could I raise a kid with him?

No one, not even him, supported me the way I needed

As soon as the abortion was scheduled I joined a dating app

Still pregnant, I went for picnics in the park with strangers and drank homemade sangria which had warmed in the afternoon sun

A few bad dates later and my sanity returned to me in the clarity of my non-pregnant state,

I realized that he was actually pretty great

Sure, he didn’t own the condo or the SUV and wasn’t offering me the lifetime of security that the dating app men were, but he felt right to me

So we got back together

I cheated on him once while he was out of town and I was planning on breaking up with him when he returned, except I didn’t

I think I will feel ashamed of my misdeeds my whole life

Then we got engaged, married, and I am pregnant again, except now with more time, money and support than before

He no longer loses important things

We are living happily ever after

Except for every time he rehashes the past

Which is too often

I don’t want to talk about every sexual act I’ve ever done with a man, yet he harps on the topic

I wish I hadn’t created such a horror film of a life

I’m trying to sculpt a happier future

For me and the little one

I keep thinking I will stop swearing and start glowing

Holy shit, I’m pregnant

Although I am wary of parenting because my own childhood was awful

I will do a better job than my parents

Every day is my happy ending

Hard

I don’t know what to do so I won’t do anything

I don’t know what to say, so I’ll sing

How come you give it to me, but I never give it to you?

I’m waiting for permission that is only mine to grant

I don’t know why- yes I do- you were hurt by me, I was hurt by you

If I were to tell you how I feel, what would I say?

I think you’re less than perfect too

I’ve committed crimes, but so have you

I don’t give you a hard time, maybe you could try that too

I need you to love me gently, instead of hardly

We don’t speak the same love language and I’m talking to myself again

You start fires, I put them out

You get loud and I want to shout

I don’t know what to do, so I won’t do anything

You won’t hear me complain because I don’t

Maybe you could try a little introspection and I could try a little introspection

We could be each other’s reflection, like we are

We’re made of stars

Why is this so hard

History

My man says he wants to know my history

I’d rather let it remain a mystery

I’d rather root into the present and grow a vibrant life

Than be blown over by memories of past storms and strife

Battered by hard knocks too soon

I hungered for the elusive silver spoon

How can I tell him about that first burning sting

Of too-soon penile penetration, I was barely fourteen

Of teenage crushes that crushed my heart

To this day I wrestle with heartbreak in the dark

Of older men with erectile dysfunction

I thought I’d moved beyond that at this junction

How can I tell him about the prima donnas

Inexplicably exploding bombs of drama

How can I tell him about the mobster

Who said I was safe because he had a loaded gun in his trunk

If I was so safe, why was he driving drunk?

How can I tell him about the rich man who offered me everything

Except happiness and peace

I’ve dropped men so fast they felt hit by concrete

Don’t come between me and my dreams

I’ve made a lot of mistakes, painful and blistery

Yet I keep moving forward to write my own history

He

He doesn’t get our inside jokes, darling

The innuendos that brought us endless laughter

He and I are still finding our humor, creating our culture, letting our formalities dissolve while our lust perches like a vulture

His body doesn’t fit with mine quite like yours did, darling

He and I are still finding our rhythm, dancing between air and fire, respect and desire

He remains a mystery to me in his newness, our future unfurls like a blank scroll ready to sacrifice it’s unwritten perfection in the name of living. We hold our pends awkwardly, unsure what to write. Our flaws will reveal themselves soon enough.

You are as well known to me as my favorite book- familiar stories I was raised on, that well-worn trauma track that feels like home. Pages stained, underlined and dog-eared, cover falling off. I know our lines by heart.

He’s not you, and what he and I have will never be what you and I had, thank God.

You hand picked me wild flower bouquets. He texts me rose emojis.

He doesn’t know our struggles, darling, nor our successes.

But he treats me better than you did.

You treated me like a princess but also like a prisoner. Your arms were my shelter, and my jail cell.

All those sweet cocktails only brought your bitterness to the surface. You drunkenly lashed out at me time and time again, and that is why we can no longer be.

I am with him now, and our journey is well under way.

Any heart that beats is a heart that breaks.

Yet after it breaks, it keeps beating.

All hearts stop beating on day, giving us a break from heart break

Perhaps in death we are united with the ultimate love- freed from our bodies, our spirits cannot help but melt together with all.

We will have to wait and see.

In the mean time, I am blessed to travel alongside him. I wouldn’t appreciate his humor, his body, his sweet gentle ways, if I had not known you first. I see how the pieces fit together, revealing beauty and perfection.

Trapped Truth

He demands the truth from me

I want to tell him but I don’t think he wants to hear
That his fears are both false and true
What’s a battered girl to do
You prod and poke
I divert and joke
Gasping for air under the heaviness in my heart
You want to know my story, where to start?
You can learning everything there is to know
Without asking questions, simply observe
I’m trying to move on from the past
Why do you bring me back
How many times will you bring me back?
I know he knows in his heart
The truth of the depths of my womb
Truth trapped in my mouth like a tomb
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
I love you
Thank you

Flame

Your rage strikes my heart like a lightning bolt

Cracking it open and setting it afire
I am at a loss for what to do, so I warm my hands over the embers and wait
To transform, part of me must die
I cannot rush, only trust
How many times can one heart break?
As many times as it takes
To learn the sacred lessons
To consciously unite with the divine
Time and time again
Pain is pain, sensation is sensation
No matter the form or formal education
Lucid dreaming just before waking
I see a sea of broken hearts glowing in the dark
Each a floating lantern offered up
Burning with the same flame