I Love You Most

The way that it used to be was that anything that ever wanted to get the best of me could do exactly that. Quickly and easily. Almost entirely effortlessly. I was so pliable and so forgiving. I was afraid to lose my innocence and of burning bridges. I was terrified at the thought of knowing there were people in this world who could hold a grudge against me, hold something over my head, or stab me in the back. 

I was afraid of being anything less than loved, and I was also, unfortunately, afraid of what love was. 

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I think the primary difference between three-years-ago me and present me is this: I'm no longer pliable or forgiving. I'm iron-willed and I'm a lot like blunt force. I say how I feel and I know what I deserve. I settle for nothing less, and I'm never not in search of something greater. Deeper. Stronger. More sincere. I'm not afraid to lose my innocence because losing innocence means growing up and experiencing life. That, and I lost that a long time ago. I'm not afraid of burning bridges anymore either, because sometimes running the longer route is healthier and more worth it than relying on someone else to carry the weight of your burdens, your tired eyes, your aching heart and your anxious mind. I'm not terrified anymore at the thought of people holding grudges against me because if they do, it's because I stood up for something that I felt was right. If somebody has something over my head, great. It's just another reason to keep reaching higher and higher. And I was stupid to ever be afraid of someone stabbing me in the back. 

Because people will. No matter how good you are to them. No matter how good your intentions are. No matter how you live your life, people will talk. People will talk, and people will conspire against you, and you will end up with a knife in your spine and blood on your shirt. You just will.

It may be your fault. It may not. You may do the wrong thing or say the wrong words and people will assume the worst. Some people may just hate you. They may hate your guts and your bones because you simply live your life differently than the way they do. Some people just have hate in their hearts and that is not on you. 

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I don't say that I am unforgiving in the sense that you are probably thinking. I don't actually use the word, "unforgiving" at all because I think the word is a little bit too strong and far too broad for the feelings and the actions I am capable of. I say that I am not forgiving not because I lack the capability to forgive, but because I've gotten too caught up in too many of the wrong people to not know what does and doesn't deserve forgiveness. 

I am many things, but I am not naive. 

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I know what I want. I've always been that way. 

When I wanted my parents to put a hot tub in our backyard, my dad jokingly said, "hand me a couple thousand dollars and you've got a deal."

I don't think he was taking his pre-teen daughter seriously. In fact, I know he wasn't. But who would? What twelve year old does something like that?

He regretted making that deal when one night, about two years later, I came out to the living room and dumped a few thousand dollars in cash out onto the coffee table. 

"I did it," I said. "Can we get one now?"

He and I spent hours tearing apart the back deck so we could pour a concrete slab down, making trip after trip to Ultra Modern Pool and Patio to look at the models I had been eyeing online, writing down measurements, calling electricians, and laughing at how all of a sudden, what I had wanted for so long was becoming a reality. 

It's sitting outside my room right now, freshly cleaned and serving as a constant reminder that I have the ability to make any of my dreams come true as long as I want it badly enough and am willing to work hard enough to make it happen.

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Another time, I broke up with a boy because he lacked ambition. I say that, and everyone I tell this story to thinks I'm joking- minus my hairstylist. 

When she was doing my hair for my sorority formal this past spring, I was fresh off of that breakup. We're talking maybe a week or two. And up until now, she had become accustomed to hearing me ramble on and on about boys who had hurt me. 

This time, when I told her the situation and she asked what it was that made me break up with him, I told her everything. But I started with this: 

"He didn't have ambition and he expected me to put my life on hold just to spend time with him. I told him no and I ended everything."

She looked at me for a minute, smiled, and told me she was proud of me. Which, at that point, meant more than she'll ever know. 

Because when you start to feel like you're crazy, it's nice to hear conformation from someone who cares about you but who may not be as personally close to you as your family and the friends you talk to all the time. It's so nice to get that reassurance. That, "hey, you're not alone," kind of tone from somebody you admire but don't live with. Those conversations are so, so important. 

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I say I am always in search of something greater, deeper, stronger and more sincere because I know that there is always room to grow. The window of opportunity in which to learn does not close. I am never not curious and I am always desperate. Desperate to drag myself out of my comfort zone. Desperate to experience more life. Desperate to dig for better and more solid answers to the things I ask that get responded to with shrugs and an "eh" or a "this is the way it has always been," because I hate being told things without reasons or evidence or even so much as a single shred of interest. 

When I ask how your day was I don't want you to say, "good," and leave it at that because I know for a fact that there were wild thoughts running through your head and I know there were times when you questioned yourself or the world and I know damn well you looked at the clock once or more than once and begged the hands to move across the clock face faster. 

I know that "good," is the weakest of words you could possibly give me as a description of your life and I want your strongest. Your bitter tears, your angry rants, your deepest secrets and darkest doubts. I want and need all of everything around me. 

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And God, for so long I was afraid of love. 

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SO afraid. For SO long. 

Because I know. I know what it's like, as a girl, to flinch when a boy leans in to kiss you because you're afraid he'll do exactly what a different boy did to you. 

I know what it's like to love someone who decides they want to walk away. I know what it's like to lose sleep crying over someone who wouldn't shed a tear over you. 

But in the grace and in the luck that I've had along my journey through love and life thus far, I've come to learn that being unafraid of love is the best way to be. 

If you get hurt, you get hurt. But you'll never know what love is if you don't open yourself freely and willingly to it. 

Allowing someone into your life, giving them the chance to learn about you and about the way you work, letting them in, showing them your weaknesses and sharing with them your victories- those things take heart. Those things take heart and courage and I can not tell you how important it is to give yourself those moments. 

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I am no longer afraid of being anything less than loved. I can settle for less if those people prove to be anything other than what I need or deserve in this life. I am okay with being hated if I am hated because I take care of myself or fight for what I believe in. I am okay with getting hurt by people who I thought loved me or who I thought I loved because if I get hurt I get to rest knowing I've learned yet another lesson and I've never once followed falling without standing back up, somehow stronger and smarter than before. 

I am not afraid of loving people, either. You can't love too hard or too much and you can't fall too far. 

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Nothing and nobody that wants to get the best of me can do so anymore. 

Nothing. And nobody. 

With deep breaths and baby steps I will do whatever the hell it takes to make the most out of my life. Nothing will ever be as easy as it once was, but I never asked for easy. 

I just found myself on top of the world, and a choice to either sit there forever or risk it all and take the jump. 

xox, -a letter from the girl who jumped without looking.

not even at the ground beneath her feet.

"they fear me," she says, as she looks in the mirror at her ink-stained arms and tear-stained eyes.

"that means there's something to be said for this kind of hunger and curiosity."

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note:

if you are reading this right now and you have actually sat and listened to me for the past several minutes, thank you.

if you have ever read this blog, or my last one, or keep up with my poetry as I share it, thank you.

yes I would still insist on being a writer if you stopped.

but it's the fact that you haven't.

you haven't stopped.

for years you've watched me go through the things life has thrown at me and you've helped me become myself. 

in the purest, gentlest way you have guided my hands across blank pages.

you have been where my stories have originated.

you have been where I have grown and you have been there as I've fallen.

I, as both a writer and as a human being can not express to you in any number of words how great you have been.

there have been nights when I've struggled and there have been times when I've wanted to give everything up and you have kept me here. 

kept me alive and kept me writing.

you've spoon-fed me the most miraculous experiences I've ever had the honor of being able to share with this world and I need you to know from the bottom of my heart

that I am here and I am who I am today because of 

you.

your impact has been and continues to be more significant 

than you will ever understand,

but I hope this helps.

thank you.

stay hungry and stay lucky.

i love you most.