An Enduring Patience

Eyes open, you’re on the floor
Some might call this an epiphany
A revelation of sorts
But, really, you’re just happy to be alive.

You clench your fists, then hesitantly release them
Symbolically letting go of what you’ve clung onto for so long
Over and over, the same forced motion
Yet it never makes any difference; you just aren’t ready.

You cry out for a savior, even though you still hold onto your vice
You’ve given it up before, but you fall harder each time.
To some, God means love, safety, hope, and grace.
To you, God means pain, failure, hurt, and fear.

Torn, you decide it’s time you’re honest.
You tell God you can’t leave it behind.
You’re scared of what might happen, it’s who you are
So you take it back up, leaving the cross in the distance.

“I won’t force it upon you, that’s just not what I do.
But I’ll still love you. I’ll still watch over you.
So if you decide you want me, I’ll be right here.
I’ll be waiting for you. I won’t be going anywhere.”

That’s who He is. Maybe someday you’ll recognize Him.
He’s patient when no one else around is.
And He’ll stand here with His arms open wide
Waiting for the day you call His name.

kadi.

Letter.

I needed to write. So I wrote what I wanted to say, but knew I probably never will. So Caleb, this is for you. Although you'll probably never read it.



“Can I ask you a question?”

I was hesitant, eventually responding with an “okay.” I knew what you were thinking and wanted to say. It’s why we decided to end it the first time.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure if I even love you anymore.”

I knew it was coming, yet I was still silent when you asked me what I was thinking. I didn’t know what I was thinking, only that I still love you. And I stuck with that decision, even when I hated being around you. So I suppose in that sense, in a sense of choosing to love someone, it’s been a one sided relationship from the beginning. Apparently you never made a decision of either way.

I remember when you first told me of what you deal with. “I think I love you” was your response after I told you I wouldn’t be going anywhere. You weren’t sure then, but I thought it was the spark of something.

I remember that conversation. Something along the lines of, “I want to just be able to start a family in a nice town and not worry about anything. I want to be able to hold you forever.” I really thought you meant it. But if I’m honest with myself, I guess that it could have been meant for anyone.

And I remember that nights you would say “I love you.” Three simple words, but I hung onto each letter. I would like to ask you now; did you ever believe what you said? Was there ever meaning behind your voice, or was I only pretending something was there that never was?

And now a new memory. I remember when you first began avoiding telling me, “I love you.” You wonder if I love you, and guess what- I wonder the same about you. And while you have no reason to worry, it’s looking like I do.

You tell me you wish I did this and this and that differently. I listen and take what you say into consideration. I tell you I’ll try. But never once have I come back and told you what I wish you would do differently, what I think I need from you. And maybe that’s a weakness on my part, but I just hope that you don’t think I’m the only one to blame for our relationship falling apart. Believe me, I could easily run down a list of things I feel like I need, but I’ve chosen to keep my mouth shut. A one sided attempt becomes a two sided failure.

Before I walk away, I want one thing. I need, so desperately, for you to make up your mind. And I need you to stick wit it. Your going back and forth hurts more than anything. So decide and let me know. Maybe something can be salvaged. But promise me something. Do not hold onto me because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt. Be quiet for a moment and I’ll let you in on a little secret. Te damage has already been done. Ask me sometime and I’ll show you the physical scars I have to prove it. Holding me simply for that motive only causes the wounds to go deeper. Either way, someone will get hurt. I’ll raise my hand and volunteer to be that person, just please, don’t make it hurt anymore than it has to.

And, babe, here is one last word for you. I love you. While the day may be close, or may have already come, that I no longer tell you that every night before the day ends, that is still my choice, as it always has been. While I may not be able to hold you, I’ll still be by your side. I’ll still are for you. I’ll still think you are the most amazing guy I know. I’ll be here when you need to talk or when you just need someone to laugh at your jokes. We’ll both move on. Wounds will heal and scars will fade. But I’ll always be nearby. Know that you will always have someone that care, no matter what you say, do, or feel.

kadi.

Meant To Love.

Maybe we were never meant to be alone.

I’ve always been independent. Let me do my own things, my own way. Give me space and you’ll never have to see me. And you’ll never have to hear from me. It’s like I never was here.

Maybe we are meant to go through this life together.

It means dependency. It means compromising. It means giving. It means taking.

It means “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

It means “I could wring your neck right now.”

It means “I can’t believe you just said that. Couldn’t have been at a better moment.”

It means “I can’t believe you just said that. You’re such a freak.”

Maybe in this life, we are meant to love.

Maybe it was always that simple.

Or complicated.

Depends on how you look at it. Either way, though, the answer still comes out the same.

We were never meant to be alone and stand on our own strength.

We were meant to share moments and lives with others.

Maybe it’s always been that we were meant to love.

kadi.

Motivation.

I’m wondering why, those few moments when I really want to stop, why I want to. What’s the reason behind me wanting to? Not saying it’s bad. Just saying. Right reason?

Maybe it’s a matter of proving something. Proving to myself that I’m strong enough. Proving to others that I’m still a good person, a good Christian. Proving that I have things under control.

Why do I run to God? What’s my heart’s intent when I raise my hands and try to let go?

Am I concerned about a relationship and what I can do? Or what I can get out of that “relationship”? Do I only care to see myself “get better” and not care about anything, anyone else?

What’s the reason for me going to the cross if I’m only thinking about what I can get from it, not what I can give?

Or wondering how much I can give, and how much I can get from that act in the end?

What’s the point, week after week?

If I only care about getting rid of this.

And “getting better”.

And being a good person, a good Christian.

Then I’m a fool.

I’m a fool if that’s my only motivation for falling face down night after night.

kadi.

Promise?

I told him I didn't think I would be able to make it much longer without going back to a razor.

I half expected him to tell me to keep going, to not stop, that I've already past the first and biggest step.

Instead.

"Just at least try and make it to the end of the fourty days. Promise?"

I was relieved. I was worried that I would fall and not be able to tell him.

But now I don't know if it's what I want.

I miss feeling happy. I miss feeling like everything is okay. I miss feeling like I know God.

And SI doesn't help that.

But right now, not doing SI isn't helping, either. I know it's because I took that away and I'm not letting God work. And I don't know if I want Him to.

And now. I always wanted to live when I was still involved with all of that. I wanted to live. Now I'm not so sure. I'm having an increasing number of times when it's more the opposite.

I'm worried, though, that when I do go back to it, I'll still be thinking like this. And it'll only be worse.

But either way. When 10pm passes on Saturday. I'm going to have razors in hand. I'm tired of this. And it's not worth it.

I'm thinking SI won't be worth it. But I miss feeling calm. And I miss being able to forget about everything.

kadi.

Ours to Chase

A dream yet untouched
Maybe ours to chase
A life still so pure
Maybe ours to claim

Come with me, follow my lead
Let us let go of these horrid chains
Come with me, listen to my voice
There’s something so much bigger

I love you, you should know
So let’s leave this world behind
I love you, I think you realize
So let’s make something of ourselves

Quiet down. Do you hear that?
Sounds of this life slipping through the cracks
Listen up. Do you hear that?
Sounds of trumpets announcing a new beginning

Finally, today is here
Forget about the mistakes, the regret
Finally, now is the time
I know we can begin again

So take my hand, trust my every word
Will you join me?
So take my hand, walk beside me
Join me in this moment.

kadi.

Let’s rekindle that flame that fuels our passion and yearning for a life worth living.

Show Me The Stars

I don’t want to hear anymore lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

I don’t want to be told what I am and what I’m not. I don’t want to be told how I should be and that I’m not enough of something.

I don’t want to be told that I should talk to my parents.

Talk to my brother.

Talk to everyone and tell them what the scars are.

I don’t want to be told I should be more outgoing.

And I don’t need to be told one more time that what I’m doing is an addiction and that it will only get worse.

Or that I need to take that next step. The step after giving him my razors.

I just want to be held. I want someone to whisper into my ear,

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re safe. You can still change. He sees you. He hasn’t forgotten you. He still loves you. I love you.”

That’s all. I don’t want anything else attached.

“I love you.”

I don’t want “I love you, but…” or “I love you, so…”

Just

“I love you.”

I want someone to hold my hands, look me straight in my eyes, and tell me I’m still alive. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it.

I want to be told that there is still breath in my lungs and blood pumping through my veins. That he hasn’t won yet. And that I’m worth something.

I want someone to show me the stars, and tell me of a wonderful creation. Not the broken and abused one that tends to be the only thing I ever see anymore.

No more lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

Just tell me I haven’t been forgotten.

And that I’m still loved.

kadi.