Was cleaning up my gifts and noticed an “archived gifts” section. Didn’t even know that was a thing. Was an interesting journey to the past.
I’ve received so many gifts over the years. So. Many. A thoughtful gesture that I never see coming. Entering another’s mind…no matter the context…is incredibly flattering to me because for whatever reason I probably don’t want to pry too deeply in I tend to think I’m that invisible. It’s why 99.9% of the bows that are waiting for me to untie them are met with sincere gratitude. Being thought of is that big of a deal to me, whether it’s “voiced” or not. But as I was reminded tonight, some of those gifts that were once beautifully wrapped can leave a scar.
Once upon a time there was a lot of genuine care shared with these members. But I’m ashamed to admit that I have no clue who is on the other side of any of these. I was obviously close to each one of them at some point in time, but their signatures escape me because so many simply fade away after such proclamations are made. I would say it’s no big deal, but I know better. At the time it was a very big deal because even though their names escape me, I know that the connections forged were thought to once be untouchable…as naive as that sounds. Years ago I was giving my light and even the heart from which it was birthed from away probably way more easily than I should have. There was a lot of vulnerability. Realness. And pure care given and received, which is a beautiful thing. I could be myself. But that didn’t always pan out. While I can’t put a name to the words of many of the now hidden away remnants of what once was, there are two that I do recall. And I have to say, it doesn’t make the looking back hurt less. If anything the remembering hurts more.
Her and I were a lot alike. A lot alike. Our light complimented each other and we had nothing but love and support for one another. She blocked me out of the blue though. Well, it may not have been out of the blue. She asked me for my honesty. I gave it to her. She responded lovingly. Sat with it for maybe an hour or two. And then exited my life forever.
And him.
We were close. Close, close. To the point we were going to meet up after talking to each other for years. If twin flames are a thing, it was most definitely us. The love. The support. The laughs. The depth. So much shared over the course of I don’t know how many years. A EP chapter that migrated to here. But instead of showing up at a coffee shop to have a cup before jetting off for a photography journey, he decided to stand me up. And then called me a fake friend because my wounded heart and ego decided to take a breath and went half a day without responding to him.
Forming a connection used to be incredibly easy for me. I welcomed it. Fed the adrenaline and excitement of a new encounter to nourish it and watch it grow. Scars within from growing up with a parent who ignored me began to heal as I was accepted and slowly loved by these strangers who the universe randomly decided to bring into my life in what was once considered an unconventional way. The I love you’s making me place my hand over my heart in complete disbelief as I smiled from ear to ear feeling every powerful syllable of that tiny phrase. The I’ll always be here for you’s vanquishing my fear of abandonment that was extremely deep seated. The I’m not like everyone else you’ve met’s giving me hope that after all of the heartbreak kinship was finally found. These were all clear messages taken in by a naive girl who just felt blessed to even meet such cool and diverse people she wouldn’t have had the pleasure to meet otherwise. It was proof that magic existed and that magic is something I still feel to this day because despite the heartache encountered, how could I not. But I also feel the emptiness being so naive and open caused, and it often tried to kill the magic that tries so hard to remind me it still exists…trying to reach my heart to help mend it in some way. I’m not sure I want it to though, not if I have to go through all of that again just to come back to the same end results in the same box but with a different bow.
This place has proven that it has one hell of a revolving door. Just think the one leading to my heart is jammed full of gifts and words of those left behind.
Once upon a time there was a lot of genuine care shared with these members. But I’m ashamed to admit that I have no clue who is on the other side of any of these. I was obviously close to each one of them at some point in time, but their signatures escape me because so many simply fade away after such proclamations are made. I would say it’s no big deal, but I know better. At the time it was a very big deal because even though their names escape me, I know that the connections forged were thought to once be untouchable…as naive as that sounds. Years ago I was giving my light and even the heart from which it was birthed from away probably way more easily than I should have. There was a lot of vulnerability. Realness. And pure care given and received, which is a beautiful thing. I could be myself. But that didn’t always pan out. While I can’t put a name to the words of many of the now hidden away remnants of what once was, there are two that I do recall. And I have to say, it doesn’t make the looking back hurt less. If anything the remembering hurts more.
Her and I were a lot alike. A lot alike. Our light complimented each other and we had nothing but love and support for one another. She blocked me out of the blue though. Well, it may not have been out of the blue. She asked me for my honesty. I gave it to her. She responded lovingly. Sat with it for maybe an hour or two. And then exited my life forever.
And him.
We were close. Close, close. To the point we were going to meet up after talking to each other for years. If twin flames are a thing, it was most definitely us. The love. The support. The laughs. The depth. So much shared over the course of I don’t know how many years. A EP chapter that migrated to here. But instead of showing up at a coffee shop to have a cup before jetting off for a photography journey, he decided to stand me up. And then called me a fake friend because my wounded heart and ego decided to take a breath and went half a day without responding to him.
Forming a connection used to be incredibly easy for me. I welcomed it. Fed the adrenaline and excitement of a new encounter to nourish it and watch it grow. Scars within from growing up with a parent who ignored me began to heal as I was accepted and slowly loved by these strangers who the universe randomly decided to bring into my life in what was once considered an unconventional way. The I love you’s making me place my hand over my heart in complete disbelief as I smiled from ear to ear feeling every powerful syllable of that tiny phrase. The I’ll always be here for you’s vanquishing my fear of abandonment that was extremely deep seated. The I’m not like everyone else you’ve met’s giving me hope that after all of the heartbreak kinship was finally found. These were all clear messages taken in by a naive girl who just felt blessed to even meet such cool and diverse people she wouldn’t have had the pleasure to meet otherwise. It was proof that magic existed and that magic is something I still feel to this day because despite the heartache encountered, how could I not. But I also feel the emptiness being so naive and open caused, and it often tried to kill the magic that tries so hard to remind me it still exists…trying to reach my heart to help mend it in some way. I’m not sure I want it to though, not if I have to go through all of that again just to come back to the same end results in the same box but with a different bow.
This place has proven that it has one hell of a revolving door. Just think the one leading to my heart is jammed full of gifts and words of those left behind.