Querencia

For one of the first time in my life, I am unable to write about how I feel. It's a mixture of gratefulness but SO much pain. It's the pain that I am having the hardest time describing or actually letting myself feel. The emotions around my parents have been beyond confusing. I almost wish it was one emotion I felt towards them all the time: pain. Then my healing would be directed in one energy. My healing process has been like that ride I used to ride as a child. I would be sitting in the back row of this Viking Ship and it would sway back and forth, almost like it would touch the sky, and I would feel the force lifting my lungs until I felt almost out of breath. Then, my heart rate would settle, but the anxiety with mount because I knew I would be right back up there in a matter of seconds. I think this mainly comes from the fact that my parents are also healing in their own way, which is a bit hard for me to understand as I have been healing since the age of 6 when I fel...

I have learned so much about attachment styles in the past few weeks. Mostly, from reading "Attached". Learning about my anxiety-attachment style and realizing why I react to specific stressors and my protest behaviors, has been such an enlightening and honest lesson these past few days, especially as I am consistently dating the same person. What this voice tells me is as follows: he's never going to respond it's over why would he be interested what makes you so special he's going to ghost you why do you think he would choose you over someone else he's probably dating so many people and I am just out of convenience Thus my protest behaviors are as follows: over-texting using specific sequence of words to illicit a response an overabundance of anxiety that causes me to go manic reading and re-reading the text conversation over and over again and assuming worst case scenario Though the reasons I react the way I do and feel the way I do ar...

I mean, it would never happen.. like never. We learned over the course of our 2 year relationship things that worked, but, ultimately, things that led to the demise of our love story. Looking back, the story is a beautiful one. We fell in love when the odds were against us, fought to keep our relationship alive, and took every risk we could take to make things work. I don't regret a thing. You opened up my heart to new feelings, deeper downfalls, and tingles that I've never felt since. I guess the beauty of sharing a love story with another, is that those feelings remain forever amongst the two, just us two. We shared the same space, the same touch, the same language for around 730 days, give or take. You let me put my cold feet on your warmth, you held me when  I cried for no reason, and you picked me up from the airport time and time again to welcome me across the country. I remember you sticking out your arm to grab me, taking me, making sure that I was there, and th...

To you.. to all of you. Thank you for looking at me, holding me in your eyes, and melting me even if it was for a moment, a week, or years. Maybe you held me for a night. The sun, already dark with sleep. Hushed laughs and stolen kisses. Electricity lighting up my veins, the smell of you that drove me crazy. Maybe you only held me for a couple weeks. Made me laugh, my freckles lighting up my face in the sun or maybe we never saw the sun together and chose to spend our time under the cover of darkness. Maybe you held me for a few months- lighting up the pit of my heart to feel the warmth that I thought was never going to come back. You looked at me and saw me- but maybe only for the parts you needed. That's okay because I looked at you and used your touch to counter my loneliness. Then... maybe you held me for years. The first few months of flirting, inside jokes, and secret annoyance. Then some days of the cold shoulder, shutting each other out, or crying in secret. Those ...

I remember the last time I saw you as vividly as the moment you stepped onto my doorstep yesterday. I remembered your eyes, mostly the way they looked at me. I remembered your shoulder and how it felt with my head against it. I remembered you in total of the person you were more than two years ago. I never dismissed you as a ghost in my life because I knew that we would pick up where we left off that summer night in San Francisco. Then I looked at you last night and I realized that I had missed you and there you were, breathing in front of me, just an arm's length away. You grabbed me and pulled me closer to you and I could feel you were just as nervous as I was.  It's crazy to think about all that has changed after all this time: our bodies, our successes, our dreams, our relationships. I felt the electricity and I know he did too. We acknowledged what time has done the lines that we must constrict ourselves because of what times has put between us, for reasons unbekno...

Eyes locked. Hearts beating. Arms reaching. Heavy breathing. 2 years of time past. 2 years of different life experiences. 2 years of not each other. 2 years of "maybe". There he stood, so beautifully underneath my porch light. I remembered him. I recalled his name. I loved hearing him laugh. I could feel the tension, the things we wanted to do. Self control. Have I already lost? Or is this the beginning? Have I left the light on too long? Have we lost? For now, I don't care. I just care for the now. I remembered him. I recalled his name.

I saw her walk into the center of the floor, the light glistening on the tasteful shatters of light off her dress, creating rainbows and prisms as she walked closer to me. I looked up at the sky, wondering if the stars would take a picture of us, in this moment, in this night. I heard her voice and stepped closer to her, as my heels clacked on the floor. She smiled and held out her hand. The veiny, weak hands that I once remembered were strong, beautiful, and polished. Her fingers gripped around my hand and she asked for my other hand. I put my hand on top of hers and we began to move around, clacking in sync, in circles. Her eyes lit up the room while everyone was watched, their pupils following the shatters of light off her dress. She was the star on the stage, and I was so gracious to be by her side. "My dear, Bori. I have chosen my last dance to be with you. You bring out a light in me that I hope to carry with me after life." "Grandma, must you go? I feel li...