Peace Be With You...

Five years ago I knew less than I knew now. I knew less about life and its lessons. I knew less about feelings and love. I knew less about where I would find myself today.

I knew less about the power death and how it can irrevocably change both your life and your outlook.

One thing I share with both my past and present self is the knowledge of pain and how it feels to both give and receive.

Five years ago I hurt you in a way that I swore to myself that I would never do again. We went our separate ways, but my heart was always with you as hard is that is to imagine. To this day I cry when I talk about what I did...as few and far between as that is...

When you would come back home there was always someone new in my life. Someone who was desperately trying to erase the hold you had on my heart though they never knew why that was why they had to work so hard...But I couldn't tell you how I truly felt because that would be breaking the promise I made to myself to never hurt another like I hurt you. No matter how torn and ragged my insides became, no matter how many times I would play your face and voice in my mind - I couldn't break my promise. Not even for you.

Now I'm free and I'm literate in many things that I wasn't before. I'm stronger. I'm angrier. I'm more compassionate. I'm more devious. I haven't been to church since he died...

he did not merely 'pass away' he's gone and will never be coming back...

No one I've found can understand what I grew up with that I held back even telling you about. That "guy" you met while you were visiting my college...he took something from me that I will never get back. Something that I had wanted to hold on to until the right time, the special time.

Five years ago I had not known a person could hurt like I do. I had known pain, but not this pain.

Now that I'm so much more ready for life - both the good and the bad...you're gone.

All those years you would come around asking if I still felt the same. The day you asked me to marry you, not while we were dating but to "get back at the man," I had thought you were joking...If I had known how serious you had been I would've broken my promise to you. I would've told you how I felt. I would've told you everything. Everything, every word, every thought, every dream...

As the last relationship was in its last countdown I filled my thoughts with you and how I would now be able to truly tell you how I feel because your marriage wasn't one of love, but now I'm not so sure...

I'll admit I spent a lot of time searching on the internet and talking to mutual friends and the consensus is that you're happy. Or at the least, you're comfortable.

All those years when I had the chance to tell you...and now it's too late...and I can't...

Maybe one day I can jokingly tell you I love you with a "just kidding" tacked on the end to keep it from being awkward, but I hope you can see through my facade. I hope you can see the truth. I hope...

Terrified.

I made a decision.

It wasn't an easy one - and in fact has involved many more, albeit smaller, decisions since then.

I broke up with my boyfriend. Yea, sure. No problem...there were no "feelings," but he was/is a great guy nonetheless.

So here I am almost 21 years old with a full-time job, starting school in the next couple weeks, car payments, insurance, bills and the whole shebang. Now on top of all that, I'm as physically homeless as I've felt for most of my life. (*insert annoying emo crying here*) Awesome. At least I have a car (hence car payments) that I can sleep in at creepy parks. Just kidding - I have friends I'll end up staying with, but I have always wanted my home. Not somebody's place where I simply have a roof over my head and my clothes in my trunk (though it is pretty fun for a limited amount of time...)

I know in my head that I will be okay, but everyday I find myself...vibrating almost. In one part of my brain everything is okay, but of course there are other places that are working overtime filling my thoughts with worst possible scenarios.

So here I am, repeating to myself that I may not be able to keep up the photography for a bit, or keep working on jewelry, but I will survive.

But what type of life is that? Merely surviving.