Unselfish Love

Once, not very long ago, some one who loved me said, "Sometimes love is unselfish. Sometimes nothing is asked for in return.
Fact is, sometimes we are loved, because of who we are. Fact is, we all have endless amounts of love to give.''

Back then, my understanding of this kind of love was that, it was naive and stupid. Having been through the kind of love where you give & give and cease to see that you get nothing in return, the eternal closeted pessimist in me replied by saying," Not everyone is selfish and not everyone wants to take and return nothing...a feeling of guilt grows  and not everyone can deal with that. 

Not everyone realizes that they have endless amounts of love to give... but when they do, they can't 

believe it...and they know that not everyone deserves that love...so they hold it off...till they know it can 

come from a place deep within....in time...'' 

I tell you this now, that once upon a time some one loved me, like I love now. I might not have been ready then, but in time the optimist in me began to peek through the shadows again. 

That now, my love does come from a place deep within. I am not ashamed to say, that the eternal pessimist in me wins every now and then, but because I have received such giving love, I chose to still go on. 

It is painful, I must admit, to go on loving unselfishly, to give and give and stand my ground knowing that the other person cannot return the feelings in the same measure even if he tried. Knowing that he lacks the ability to see what love really does to a person. 

It eats away at the ability to say NO. To simply stop the other person from taking every last ounce of strength, esteem and courage you have. Handing the power over to some one who is almost careless.

Loving like that, is true selfless love. 

I have been loved the same and I am grateful for it, grateful to those who loved me like that, knowing that I didn't know back then how painful it can be to watch some one take your love and not give in return. 

I say thank you, because each day that I feel like quitting, each day that I want to be selfish and walk away from a love that feels like its taking my all, I think of those who loved me unconditionally. 

I see how it has come to change me as a person, of what I gained from it, and I now see how much it has helped me push through the walls. I now know that I am capable of making such a change in some one else's life by giving and giving and expecting nothing in return, because I love now, like some one loved me once...

PS - to those who've loved me like that, Thank you. To those whom I love now, I hope that one day you will carry it on and change some one else's life forever. 

A mirror in A person

"You're an angry person..." he told her sitting across the room. He looked both hurt and bemused. 

He sat there on a chair with a cloth to his face trying to let the water cool down his temples. He was sucking out the blood and shards of glass from his palms. The house was quiet now... the walls deserved some peace. 

She was sobbing, soft sniffs, feet bare...her mascara stained cheeks were wet, she was shaking from shock, trying to hold herself together, sitting with her knees drawn unto her chest. She could feel the cold floor numbing her bottom, numbing her toes. She wished they would numb her anger and insecurity too. She could feel the temperature drop further in the room, she wasn't sure if it was the cold wind or him.

She wished the cold would engulf her, the room, engulf everything and freeze it over. Stop her emotions. Anger. Rage from the past that had led to more rage tonight. Bitter fury that had led to her losing grip tonight. 

She prayed the cold would numb it all, stop time and skip it all... but it would come back. Stopping time only meant a delay in the inevitable...tonight was a lesson, time never heals... 

'Yes', she thought to herself, 'maybe I am an angry person... after all this time of trying to "BE OKAY", bury my fears...after all the exhaustion of putting on a brave face I can begin to doubt myself again, my display of physical emotion tonight is proof.' 

She looked at him and saw that he would never be able to read her depth. See in her eyes the world of pain that he had opened up tonight. He wouldn't understand that the rage came from a place that held nothing but fear, a fear of risking her trust again. A place she had hoped to never set foot on again... 

And yet she had tried. 

Only this time it hurt more... because she knew all too well...he could hurt her more. She had trusted in him much more ... loved him much more than any other. 

And lest her fears come true, this time he would not only open her wounds, they would leave her cut up with no chance of her trying again.

She looked around the room, at all the damage she had caused, all the pain he had just reminded her of. All the doubt she had in him and more so in herself. 

And yet again she tried.

"Im not an angry person..." she said softly without meeting his eyes, "I'm just scared".   

Learning to Learn from Mistakes

Scars are inevitable, unavoidable even. Usually followed by hurt and disappointment. Some come and go, some fade, some stay, as a reminder of a place you should'nt visit again. 

Whether you're 5 and fall off your bike or 15 when you get stiches from a fist fight or 25 when you get drunk after a heart break. Scars are good and bad. And we've all had our fair share. Some visible and some not so much anymore.

The worst kind though are the ones that seem never to appear because you leave the wounds open. You don't let yourself scar only because you hurt yourself over and over again right at that same spot. There's no admission of being hurt and you won't let it scar. Out of sight, out of mind. It will get better, you keep saying to yourself.

Denial.

I'm Okay, I will be patient, It will change, It will get better... It takes time, so maybe next time around it won't happen again. Maybe we can talk it through and work on it. Maybe it was bad timing and distance.

Hope.  

We can do this, we can hold eachother's hand through this. We're better than this. We will change for the good because we can.

Trust. 

What if Hope and Trust are the wounds? What if you keep hoping and keep trusting and still hurt from it?

How can you scar from hoping and trusting when they are feelings? 

You can't scar from them, can you? Or so we think...

Disappointment.

If you keep going back to the origin of whats painful and dig a-fresh when will you let it heal? 

And if you stop hoping and stop trusting, then you've given up. Is that such a bad thing if it makes you feel better in the long run? Would you be thankful at the end of it all for not letting the pain drag on?  

Or maybe, just maybe even giving up after a certain point will begin to hurt, because you would then wish that you had worked harder and maybe, just maybe (hope) it would get better.

At what point do you say, enough? At what point should you realize that you cannot hurt yourself further by simply trusting and hoping things will get better?

How then can you let it scar? What measure will you use to remind yourself that things may not change.

Realization.

It's probably the worst kind of pain. But it may be a good scar to wear on your sleeve.

It aches the most. You realise that you're hurting from simply trying. Each time, the harder you try the worse the wound. 

But if that realization leads you to give up and you lose your hope and faith would you then not be scarred for life? Or are we all simply in denial and never learn from our mistakes? Because, after all, we're just human. We're damaged goods anyway.

And in being so, we're all vain and want to be perfect, scar-free. Inevitably we're going to be fools and try again, trusting that this time it will be better and eventually realize that we hurt, ache, scar and still chose to hope for the best.

Perseverence. 

You broke it and I let you

Some one said my blog isn't 'light enough' and today that same some one said I haven't seen a piece as intense and raw as 'Boy on a sandbar'. 

I realized that when the good things in life happen to me I'm selfish. I like to keep them to myself, memories, happy, that are mine and for no one else to see or know. They, I believe, are my true possessions, my wealth that  no one can steal from me and I won't let them.
But I am willing to share my sorrow, frustration, anger, hurt and deep thought (so I think).

So, here goes...I hope this one is as raw and intense, because it's all heart. And I'm a fool for wearing it on my sleeve.. 

I had a home, my safe place, no one but me. You broke in to it...and I let you...

Then you broke it and I let you.

I realize that it's a little late to build my four walls again. I let you in already, I opened the doors that had been safely, fearfully and carefully locked. 

I realized today that it's a little late not to care. Because, you know what, it took me a while to give a shit about you and now that I know how much I care I feel like a fool.

I realized yesterday that you probably don't care as much as I do, but then again it's not your fault, I let you in and you made it home and I didn't mind so much while you slowly but surely became part of my life, inside my four walls. Part of my life, that I wanted to protect, hold, care for and fight for. Fight against the world out side of those four walls. I made you family. 

I realized today that I shared too much, gave too much and never asked for anything in return. A sort of one sided barter...where you took and I gave....you took and I gave....you took some more and I let you.

I know now that I cannot build my four walls again, I cannot take back everything you've seen on this side of those walls. I cannot take back what is supposed to be mine, what I let you see, what I shared with you.

I realized yesterday what a fool I've been for letting you take over my four walls, for letting you chip them away, brick by brick. 

I realized you broke it down, brought in sunshine and then left me to burn. 

You're part of an inside that you've broken... my inside.

I can't rebuild it against you or around you. But I can abandon it...I can walk away from my four walls and leave you to play with whats left of it...feel free to break it down some more...

I hope you realize that I don't need the four walls to keep me careful, fearful and distant.

I have you, you've shut me down.

For 4 days

Every time you string two words on a guitar, I know why four days were never enough. 
Every time I wake, only to see my dream in day light, I realize that this could not be more tough.


When you say exactly what no one else will and you're brutally harsh, I know that no matter how hurtful it is, you will always be a class apart. 
When I close my eyes to think of what we could have shared, I want it to end, that which did not start.


And when I'm dutifully casual when I should be mad at, I know, you know I'm deceiving.
And every time you prove me for what I am, I know I deserve what I'm receiving. 


If I were to say that I want you back now, would you think it is worth believing?
I think not, for you know, my reason and rhyme have no depth nor meaning. 

So every time I string two words on a paper, I know why four days are never enough. 

Every time I wake, to feel loss at day-break, I know this could not be more tough.

I'll find my way back...

I leaned over the low stone wall... looking at little fish that were swimming against the current. I was wondering to myself how they survive the cold, I was admiring their determination to swim in the exact opposite direction of where the winds were leading them, when my girlfriend yells, 'Look I think its farting!'

So much for pondering... 

I laughed out loud...genuinely laughed.

We hadn't done this in a while, I thought to myself...just drive out to town in the middle of the night, eat strawberry and whipped cream, park the car halfway up the footpath, have all the men judge our road sense,  sing (If I may call it that) along with the CD, be absolutely un-lady like and just enjoy being 20ies something girls...

I looked back at Aseema and Tarini sitting on the bench, they were discussing how it would be nice to have breakfast here early in the morning... there was no one but the four of us, it was peaceful. 

Tamara stood next to me staring at the view we had of the sea, the beach in the distance and the Queens Necklace... I heard her say, "I love this city". 

It got me thinking... I love this city too... I stared at the tall buildings and the lights... it reflected so much life, so much energy, so little time to take it all  in, much like myself. I found myself thinking, would I really want to leave? 

She realized I wasn't in the mood for a conversation and went on, "I don't think any place would make me happier, as long as I'm here and you guys are here, life's good". 

I smiled, at no one in particular, and wrapped my hands around myself.
I looked down again, the fish were still struggling to swim out to sea, the current was pulling them in. They stayed close to each other, barely visible in the huge mass of muddy brown water. It was the street lamp that lit their silhouettes. 

Cold wind hit my face and it carried the smell of sea.

"Do you think they even know how huge the ocean is Trisha?" 

I looked to my left and realized that Tamara was still talking to me... 

"No", I said curtly, wondering how ironic that question seemed.

"I don't think they have an idea, but I guess they want to see more, know more, follow their instincts to where ever it will take them next. I think they're looking for adventure, for new territory. They're doing everything to fight the current." I pointed at the littlest fish of the lot. 

"I mean, its admirable right? They're getting away from here, no idea what's to come. Just going...worth the risk I guess"

Tamara was frowning at me. "They're just fish! relax woman!"

I started to laugh, I knew I was speaking for myself more than the fish and I also knew Tamara thought I was high on sugar.  

Tarini and Aseema got up and came stood to my right. The four of us just stood there for a while. 

"I miss this, it's nice no?" Aseema said to me pointedly. I knew she was saying so much more than just that.

I looked at her thinking, this is nice. I'm here with people I love, people who care, a city that has brought me up. But I wanted more...

"I lost them...!" Tamara said. 

"Who?"

"The fish!...I can't see them anymore...I can't see a fart bubble either!"

"Tamara, please relax, I'm sure they'll be fine. They don't need you to look out for them, they have each other" Tarini said, being her usual realistic self. 

We backed off from the stone wall in silence.

"Who has the keys? You still want to drive?" I asked Tamara as we walked toward the car parked on the curb.

The girls went up ahead, I hung back and turned around to look for the fish one last time, thinking of what they may have to face out at sea, out in the unknown. 

I craned my neck a little checking under the next street lamp that lit the surface.

Gone. 

"Are you coming or what? We can't leave you behind"...The three of them were sitting in the car, impatient. 

I turned to my little group and made a face. 

"Course you can leave me behind, you always have the option you know.", I stuck my tongue out at them.

Aseema gave me a knowing look. 

"I'll find my way back to you anyway..."