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Rated: E · Book · Relationship · #791494
I write, ending the 20-something's, learning to love along the way.
#285309 added April 7, 2004 at 1:26pm
Restrictions: None
Sights and Sounds of Progress….
Sights and Sounds of Progress….

Where a once torn and masked girl used to stand, hiding behind carefully built walls of anger, hurt and fears, I find someone else standing today. The walls still exist, but I reside on the other side of them. Painting murals of who I am becoming on them, in color.

His smell has always entered the very core of my being; right down to the soul that I am convinced must have known him before. His eyes have always pierced my pounding heart with each look. Those things have not changed. The feel of his touch has never been the same as any other. I have always felt the electrical current that his hands produce as he touches me and I feel his soul escape through his finger tips, speaking a language without words that we both understand. My senses are still riveted, now at deeper levels, but always with an effect I have not been able to replace. Those things have not changed.

What changed was me. Unable to continue shifting the responsibility of making me feel whole, complete or worthy in his eyes or any other, I was forced one day, to find that from within with God. I started becoming, in a way I had never known; responsible for who I truly am, in my own eyes. In the hands of a God I had never fully trusted, I began to peel away the layers of lies I had told myself about who I really was. I discover each day, a little more of who I thought I would be and who I am intended to be without the obsolete coping mechanisms. Ripping and tearing away at the old cloaks and daggers that I needed so desperately to protect myself, I found that they were not protection. I found that they were hiding me, holding me back, and keeping me from becoming and being seen.

He sees me, as many others do, sometimes before I even do. He sees who I am and what I represent, before I realize that I am making a statement. I see him, for who he really is, behind his own set of cloaks and daggers, tainted with the names of many who could not avoid his light but tried to capture small pieces of it in his past. I have no desire to steal what he is or what he will become, only to bask in the light of watching it each time I am blessed with his presence. I know him by heart, as he knows me, because we were graced with God’s plan to unravel our human weaving that covers us and our paths have revealed little pieces of our true form, with each new encounter. Excited and exhilarated at the marvel that we were granted one more day together, yet finding it hard to quiet the human need for more, I find myself in immense gratitude. If at each point that I believed I was ready, or he was ready, we had acted upon that, we may not have been granted the beautiful story that seems to be unfolding now, in growth and bloom.

Although my heart aches when I tighten my belt where his hands are missing and my bed feels like a huge canyon where I lay without his presence, I am grateful for the chance to wait. I have more of him that anyone in his life today, as I always have. He has more of me that I have ever given, more than he will ever fully comprehend. This phenomenon of having someone hardwired to my existence and woven into the core of my definition of love, is bigger than my human mind can grasp. What I have always prayed for, dreamed of and fantasized about, comes true with him, to my surprise. Praying for that to change would just be redundant, as it happens with no effort, simply as a part of the path I was blessed with in this life. To ask for more or to mourn what I believe I am missing would be to cut myself off from the amazing gifts of how much bigger this could grow in time. My mind cannot comprehend how this happened or how it became so amazing. I sit in excitement, on the edge of the chair in my favorite action movie, totally surrendered to the anticipation of what can happen next. I see the amazing change in me, the power blooming in him and have no concept of how much bigger or better this could possibly grow. In forcing my will or fighting for what I think I want, I wish to freeze time and hold on to this phase. Amazed by the incredible feeling of the light in us both and wanting to bathe in it, selfishly, for more time that we were granted. In doing so, I eliminate the possibility of this being even bigger and better than I have the ability to dream.

I am grateful for my doses of this love I could not imagine ever feeling. I am baffled by the unwarranted gift of having something so meaningful in my life and so defining to my soul and my story of me. I am completely surrendered to the idea that my mind cannot even remotely paint a picture of how incredible this can become if it is already so mind blowing. I sit still, realizing how little I have to do with this process and how little my next decisions really affect my destiny with Casey in my heart. I surrender and wait, for God to reveal each day, more and more about who we are and what this mural will look like on the painting of our lives. I revel in the fact that we are simply the medium that is used to create an art from of the human existence and what it can become when at the hands of the Master Painter who is shaping our picture.

I thank God for the gift of having each moment of Casey in my life, but more so for the gift of finding him in my heart and attached to my soul despite my own efforts to bottle, dissect or sabotage it. I am blessed with gifts each day. The past 4 days have been in different packages and sweeter smells than the average days, as I was blessed with his company, his mind, his dreams and his embrace. I am grateful for the special glasses that God placed on us that allow us to see through each other, to the person that only God knows in us and that allow our reflection to shine back at us, enlightening our conception of who we really are. I am grateful for the blessing of feeling love, being able to swallow fear and pride and replace it with honesty and openness of how I really feel. I am grateful for the language that we speak when we say nothing at all. I am grateful to know in my heart that I cannot manufacture, create or synthesize this, but it is a God given gift of love that I have never experienced before

For the first time in my life I am in love. I am in love with who God is creating in me, with the ability to share that with him, in love with life and all that is contained within it. I am in love with the gift of knowing that love is possible. I am grateful for the transformation that is taking place in us both and amazed that it only brings us closer together. I am grateful for God’s care and protection of us both in that process, especially from ourselves.

Today I am excited about who I am, but more excited that I am being seen and not hiding my gifts anymore. I am eternally grateful for the ability to collide with Casey when it is in God’s will, and to unite our minds, bodies and souls in a way that I find a mysterious ecstasy in this human existence I have never known before. I am amazed at the incredible piece of handy work that we were each selected to be and the unimaginable thought of the power that comes in uniting that. I am grateful for the power of transformation and surrendered to two simple facts:

Our paths continue to intersect at different junctures and that is enough.
Trying to change course now, would circumvent the beautiful scenery we don’t know lies ahead in the road. It truly is about the journey and not the destination.

Thank you God, for creating two beautiful human beings like us and for the incredible gift of uniting us in the way that you have. It almost seems unfair to the rest of the world to stack a team with such incredible talent and beauty in one couple. Thank you for picking me!



Creativity is the willingness to express emotion and the ability to explore it without perfection.
© Copyright 2004 L Mckiernan (UN: lrmckiernan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
L Mckiernan has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/285309-