A Great Sadness

A great sadness in my life has been the end of relationships.  Once trust is broken, it takes both people to mend it.  Most times, apologies and forgiveness are freely given.  If there is no apology or admittance to wrongdoings, it is nearly impossible to move forward.  Today I was reminded of the wounds that lay open and abandoned; the staples only keep the skin from unfolding and growing larger.  When I think about nasty messages and unwarranted anger, I am reminded of the grace of God and the peace He gives me. I can ask Him for the courage to release my anxieties and to be calm.  I do not want to hold onto such pain.  I do want the people I have parted from to find peace and healing from their pain.  It is hard to feel loathed, but I know it was not my doing.  I cannot control others’ desires.  I can only choose to back away from what damages me and those I love.  Often, I feel this sense of guilt when I set strong boundaries with people who have taken advantage of my easy forgiveness.  I know it’s not a curse to care about others and see the good in everyone, but it can be a burden if left unchecked.  Still, I am unsure of the right way to do things.  I know God wants all of us with Him and that we are to love our neighbors, but there are times when we must protect our lights, so that they don’t go out.  Though I am disheartened, I will let it pass.  My time is precious and I don’t want to spend it down and under the blankets, though it is very comfortable.

Relationships in Writing

Relationships are rough. To write about, to be in…take your pick. I’ve woken to the pounding memory of my heart strings tearing apart from the forced absence of a man I had the misfortune to dream about, again. Not just one man, no, at least two. I don’t count the others. One of them, I never dream about, but it could be that his favorite color was brown: it began and end with that dull shade. I was too much crazy for him. Point taken. Also, I was too much crazy for all of them. Each one not quite the other, but all ended the same, well plain guy didn’t really care if I was still his friend on Facebook. I took that one into my own hands. The other two hurt me the most. So, when I fall asleep in my happy little king-sized bed complete with soft sheets and fuzzy blankets, my brain decides to remind me about every embarassing moment and painful response to these two guys. Mostly the first and we all know how the first gets us. Not really a winning moment. After all this time, it still gets to me. I write romance into my stories and each time I put in a piece of that first-love guy, I wonder why. Why was it all so hard? The good news is that when something is diffucult to relive, you should write about it! Yay! More terrible memories to bleed onto the page! The digital trees must not be doing well.