Clammy Hands

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Within a moment of strength, I am weak. From the powers that be, I let love lie. Knowing I have loved, is fortune in itself. But where is the love among a world so unkind? I find it in those most unsuspecting, unbeknownst souls that stand here before me waiting to be unveiled. I’ve told every boyfriend that I’ve loved them. But the truth is that only a few did I really go to that place. I confused love with a love lost in my own soul. Finding it underneath my piles of debris from an unsettled heart. And so far there has been nothing like that of your first love. And that’s what I’m looking for. To feel the pitter patter of heart. The clammy hands in an anxiety of wonderment. We’re always told that we can only know love if we know love within. But then how can we truly love if we are ever evolving, ever growing and ever understanding ourselves? It must mean that love is more powerful. That to find it is beyond all other gifts bestowed upon. I may love easily because I look at people with their gas tank on full and it’s up to them to burn it dry. Maybe it’s not a good way to look at people by giving them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that’s giving them too much credit. But I don’t look at love as too much credit, I look at it as an overload of fulfillment. I yearn to be whisked away. Not to be stood up as I once was, not to be abused, but to find an everpowerful thing in an even more powerful being. Did I go the wrong way in love? Of course I did, as we all do. Because when you mix love with life it can add up to an equation any atlas would find lost to. To be someone’s everything may in fact be the greatest gift one could ever know. And some of us will even walk around for a lifetime not knowing they were someone’s end all in the wonderment at the fair. Broken hearts are undoubted. But the lessons in each are as well, so why does it hurt so much? Even when we know the loss is upon us. Even when I left my ex-husband it felt like cutting my arm off. I didn’t know what to do anymore. But that’s because he confused love for control and was always out for the conquering. I had to give him my paychecks. If I needed money he’d want me to find it out of the piggy bank we had kept. He took my car to work as I took three buses to mine. I’d shatter like glass each time he’d take off. Leaving for entire weekends as I’d sit alone to worry.  Always going back to Seattle where my true home was. Where I’d secretly wanted to be the entire time. Getting out of that relationship was hell to because I never knew what he was capable of when I would break up with him. If we can live with loss and love in life why can’t we let love die when we need to? Is it the lessons it’ll bring because all mine did from my relationship with him was to always err on the side of caution in every way. I can’t trust men. I’m so afraid they’ll take my control once more, that I will get out of relationships if I see control in flight. Now I fight to the death for myself, at least in that regard. I will not be taken advantage of in that way again. I will be raped no more. From the powers that be, in this weakened moment I stand strong. I will find who I am one day. But it won’t stop me from wondering what true love is, because that is forgotten by me. But unforgotten is the yearn for it. Yearning for all else to fall by the wayside and to stop running in place waiting for things to happen. And get these feet to move around the neighborhood. Maybe only to stop and watch as love walks too.

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