- I cried, too. You just couldn’t see me.
- Being brazenly proud of your Internet history should have been a warning flag.
- It’s awful that I can only sum up the entire contents of your heart into that moment you pressed a cold wash cloth against my head when my nose wouldn’t stop bleeding.
- I used to press my head against your car window, wishing you were anyone but you.
- You are my best friend, and I can’t wait to high five your face in heaven.
- You should stop talking so much so I don’t have to be sad for everyone’s ears.
- You taught me all the worst parts of myself and it only made me see the best in you.
- I wanted to be you when I grew up, but only if you would have grown up, too.
- I am not evil. You aren’t either. Let’s just leave it at that.
- It’s okay. I understand now.
- Wishing it away is like swallowing your own tongue.
- I stopped writing because the words began to break and fall apart and when I tried to pick one up, it bit my hand and called me a fraud.
- You are a whirling dervish on acid.
- It wasn’t fair of me. Not a single moment of it.
- I never wanted to be you. Not really. I just wanted, just one time, for you to want to be me.
- Don’t be me. Don’t ever be me.
- Unless you want to. I don’t blame you. I have nice ankles.
- But seriously, guard your heart, your loins and every tissuey organ that has the potential to give you grief. And when you do give them away, be prepared to never ask for them back.
- I loved you all the most. And perhaps that was my vilest sin.
- One more high five, best friend.
- Okay. I’m ready.
This has always been a tough one for me.
I’ve always been one to talk a big game about being selfless and loving others, but I was also always the first one to wave my middle finger out on the road.
It really wasn’t until I allowed Christ to be part of the equation that I could really even consider putting others in front of my needs, my wants, my ambition.
It was easy to guard my heart in the name of self-preservation. It only made sense to constantly defend myself because humility and kindness meant weakness to me. It meant setting yourself up just to get torn down.
But then I became tired of being so bitter. I wanted something more for myself. And I wanted something more for the people who came in contact with me.
I realize I’ve been given the chance to give love in such a way that it reworks the course of humanity and heals a slew of broken hearts. We all have. And that, for me, is more than enough reason to celebrate today and the opportunity it brings.
from Instagram: http://instagram.com/p/93mrAott1e/?taken-by=erickaclay
I’m working on revisions for Unkept which is a lot like carefully removing my heart with a scalpel just to watch it beat.
It’s like going back in time, reworking history, rethinking all of the things I want to say and finding new ways to say them.
It’s a puzzle, a mystery, a million little paper cuts delivered every time I hit a key. It’s opening old wounds and crafting fresh ones and bleeding until my insides are shriveled dry.
It’s a painful act, remolding words. It’s painful because there’s a mirror there reflecting your paper cut hand, your heart in your palm.
The hardest thing in the world is remembering not to squeeze too tightly.