The Random Ramblings of Lauren

So, over the past few months or so I've been trying to figure out how to write this post, to talk about the end of my five-year relationship. The intention was to clear my head of this swirling mass of thoughts, and attempt to find some clarity. But, every time I ended up writing, this post got longer and more difficult.  So I put it off, I avoided it, and I stressed about how on earth I would ever manage to translate my thoughts into words.  However, I refused to give in, because part of me believed that once I could get this confusing tangle of emotion out of my head and into words, I would finally be at peace. So, one sentence at a time, as the days and weeks and months stretched on, I managed to string together this rambling mess of thoughts. And in the end, it just turned into an apology. To myself, to those around me, and more than anything, to the girl who all of this began with. So, here goes... Do you ever feel like the longer time passes, the further from yourself yo...

She has the kind of face to write poetry about. To spill words like ink on page after page, searching for a way to describe it. And yet, there are never enough words. Their meaning, feels meaningless. I could travel to the furthest reaches of every continent. Dive to the deepest depths of the seven seas, or soar to dizzying heights above the tallest trees. And yet, the world would feel dull, in comparison to her. Even in a thousand lifetimes, hard as I try, I wouldn't ever find a single sight more beautiful than her face, nor a string of words capable of capturing that beauty. Because nothing has ever or will ever be more beautiful to me, than her.

 I am slowly learning that for a long time, and all too often, I accept (or even embrace) so much less than I deserve because fuck it, could be worse, right? But I cannot measure my expectations of others on the pains of my past, or the possibility of something worse. I deserve more. I did then, and I certainly do now. So I won't be  merciful to toxicity, negativity, or inferiority. Give me what I deserve, or step aside and let someone else. Because I know my worth. And you better believe I won't settle for less.

I lost myself to love, once. And I promised, next time would be different. I found myself after so long, estranged, and I swore I wouldn't lose myself to loving someone else. But then, I met you. And I never expected it, but you showed me... Loving yourself and loving someone else aren't mutually exclusive. Loving me and loving you are one and the same. So I will never lose myself to you. I am myself, because of you.

I never really had a home. A space to be safe, or to call my own. I flitter and fleet from place to place, never still for long enough to settle and stay. So I have never felt the anxious unease, nor the gnawing nostalgia of being homesick. But perhaps a home isn't always a place. Maybe my home is in you. Because the longing for your arms around me, your skin against my fingertips, your intoxicating scent, and the taste of your lips... It sure feels like I'm homesick. So take me home.

They say patience is a virtue. They say good things come to those who wait. But I do not know how much longer I can hold back from the inevitability of you. I have never cared for rush or haste. I live my life at my own steady pace. But why do we insist on waiting for something good  to begin? We are wasting precious time, watching on the side lines, as our defining moment passes us by. Can we just let ourselves go? Stop pressing pause on this epic tale that lies ahead. Because I want you. All of you. And I 'm impatient for us to begin. There is no time like the present and there is no feeling like loving you. So let's jump right in...

I find solace in the water. Be it lake, river, ocean, or sea, there is no place I would rather be. It is the air to my lungs, the beating of my heart, the soothing of my soul. So I live and love and find peace and home in the water. And when all others have left, the water remains by my side ever constant, ever faithful, ever flowing.

 Something buried deep within me is broken. But that doesn't mean I am broken. Somewhere hidden in the labyrinth of my body is a sickness. But that doesn't mean I am sick. Sometimes I hide the fear and pain so others don't see my weakness. But that doesn't mean I am weak.  I will not be defined by the flaws under my surface. I am greater than the sum of my parts. I will mend, and heal, and grow, stronger and more powerful than ever before. Watch this space.

Love is the purest pleasure. It should never be hurtful or selfish. But maybe, in loving you, I was selfish. Because I wanted more... More time. More love. More you. More us. I finally felt the spark, of what could be and I yearned to burn with it. To set the world alight with the wildfire of us. But truly selfless love expects nothing in return. Loving someone else means helping them to love themselves. Even if it means pulling away... Letting the flames flicker and die to embrace the cold and build fires of our own. Because love should never be selfish.

 I wish the world would quit telling us to wait, and hope, and pray, that one day Prince Charming will ride in on his white horse to rescue us. That our saviour will come, sweep us off our feet, and we'll live happily ever after. Stop preaching that we need liberating from our mundane, pitiful existence. That we are only complete in the arms of another. A sickening self-fulfilling prophecy of heroes and damsels.  We don't need to be rescued. I will be my own damn hero. I'll save  myself from this twisted narrative. And I'll love me better than anyone else ever could... Happily ever after.

I have never needed you, or anybody, to make me happy. I am perfectly capable and complete, all on my own. I am the architect of my contentment, and I've worked long and hard to build this sanctuary of solace. But the salient fact is... You take everything I've built, and you make it even greater. You make my happy, even happier. You are the final flourish of colour on the masterpiece of me. All things, are better with you. Always.

Every day I convince myself of all the ways I am weak... Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Socially. Spiritually. But  I am so much stronger than I realise. I have a voice, a power, a mind, a heart, a belief, and a bravery, that will not be conquered, nor forgotten. I brave battles and wage wars to prove to myself, and the world, every single day that I am more. There is a supernova within me that burns so hot, and so bright, and so powerful, it is blinding. When others  simply watch as I collapse they don't notice how I also set the universe alight. I am not weak. I am simply a different kind of star. A supernova.

TW: Self Harm! There's a razorblade on my bed. I don't know when or how it got there. I might have brought it in from the bathroom accidentally, or maybe it fell out of my travel bag, or I've forgotten to put it away when I was sorting out other things. Maybe, subconsciously, a small part of me knew I had left it out. But either way, it's there, and for the first time in a long time, it's staring at me like a dear, old, forgotten friend. The truth is, for a long time now I haven't had to worry about razorblades. For so many years their presence in my everyday life is as commonplace and arbitrary as my hairbrush, or coffee mug, so that I haven't paid a second thought to having them around. I have derma blades in my cosmetics bag, shaving razors and cartridges in the bathroom, razor knives around my creative workspace, heavy duty blades in my DIY toolbox, a pocket knife in my bag. Sharp objects, all around me, all of the time. Yet, there was a time when that w...