“Married Life;” even isolation couldn’t stop the bleed. [Don’t you shiver]

An update:

This is a 5-page (don’t run away) entry from a few days ago, followed by a present-tense synopsis of existence.

“Come on in.

I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in.

I’ve gotta tell you in my LOUDEST tones,

that I started looking,

for a warning sign..

when the truth is

I miss you.” -Coldplay

Sometimes, we act out for attention.  Get really quiet, storm off angry.. refuse to eat, overeat.. destroy people, things, relationships, ourselves..

and I used to think it could only be stupid and wrong to do such a thing; to prefer receiving negative attention to no recognition at all..

but I’ve changed my mind.

It’s how we survive, beyond existing..

It’s how we thrive, beyond breathing.

We’re at Walmart, waiting for Chris to get his eyes examined.

“Married life,” is wonderful.  We spend every second together, we even brush our teeth together.  We cook breakfast together every morning and make it as healthy as possible.  We drive together, walk together, sleep beside eachother..

and the best part of life is falling asleep in his arms.  Last night, I fell to dreaming with my head resting up against his bare chest.  I feel safe now, all the time, wherever I go,

because he’s with me.

And the best part of life

is waking up to his soft kisses and the warmth of his closeness; feeling him pull me close with his arms and hold me with his leg draped over mine.  We relate our dreams (for both of us always dream) and communicate, once again, how much we love eachother..

how amazed we are, by eachother

how in awe we are, OF eachother –

and how thankful we are, for eachother.

More than once (last night, it happened again) I’ve stared into Chris’s eyes and become overwhelmed by the magic and wonder of “him..”  All I can do is cry.. he holds me close and consoles me, running his hand through my hair and up and down my back, whispering softly, “it’s okay, I’m here..” and I clutch him tighter, I draw him closer, I pull him nearer towards me..

I’ve never been so needy, felt so childlike, loved so strongly, so honestly, and been completely unashamed

of it all.

I terrify myself by imagining how easily life could have been so miserably and disappointingly,

DIFFERENT —

and how kind I am, to use such a SOFT word,

when in absolute truth,

in perfect reality,

an alternate way of life, any other course, would have been horrendously awful, blood-chilling, heart-breaking, mind-blowingly DEVASTATING,

driving me to depression, and despair,

where death is most desired and even solitude can’t provide the answers I need..

where even isolation can’t stop the bleed.

I’ve realized, recently, that in addition to being fond of my company (which alone is flooring, astounding), Christopher actually does need me.  He has a lot of anxiety and insecurity; while he is social and can relate beautifully with this, the human race, his being cannot be so well understood and cared for by anyone other than myself..

And so, this — this duty (which is a delight), this, sacrifice (for truly, in marrying, you leave all to follow one — you let go of everything to receive one thing) – which is a pleasure –

is my life’s calling..

the highest station to which I ever will be (and ever could be,) called.

To love, care for, improve the life experience of, to edify, to encourage, to inspire, challenge and nurture my Christopher.

This is my dream –

and as it comes true, the ghostly past ceases to haunt me.

And as it’s a reality –

the future has never been more promising.

(laaaast page)

Chris just had his eye exam done, poor thing was (and still is) nervous.

In regards to the PETERS,.. the former friends who composed the very FRAMING of my life..

I, still think about them a lot.  Especially Melissa. Mom says she still thinks about them a lot, too; wonders what they’re thinking, and how they’re feeling, about everything.

I just wonder if their world has changed as much as mine has; if it’s better, like mine is..

I wonder if all they remember about me is the negative and the unlovely..

I wonder if they choose to think of me, or it just happens —

if it’s everyday that I slip into their minds, or if they’ve successfully forgotten.

I guess I’m barred from their future,

but I can never erase them from my past.

And something huge to realize:

I really hope they’ve found happiness at last. Because they never had it before.

and It isn’t REALLY my past –

it’s theirs, mine, and ours.

-Aun Aqui

(end of entry)

So yes, that’s about where I’m at.

Adjusting to this new life, this new stage, phase, part of life – growing, developing, understanding myself and everything around me better, in a deeper, more honest sort of way – seeing things in a new light, more clearly, it’s all really a coherent whole..

recognizing that there are trees, and there are shadows..

there are deep waters, and there are shallow

There is a voice, and there is singing..

there is a cry, a blanket of black, and bleeding.

There is so much I’ve tried to hide,

so much I’ve wanted to forget —

but now it means everything to me,

and the sun is finally allowing herself to set

Because I’ve seen everything I wanted to see

and I’ve been everything I needed to be

and now the future turns around and

I’m free.

And now the future takes my hand

and I’m free.

What else is there to see?

Is there something else I can and should be?

**

I’ve really been missing my mom.

Typed out a quick e-mail to her last night; calling her on Chris’s cell phone later today..

She really is my best friend.

I started crying yesterday evening and Chris just held me close and listened as I sobbed out the story of

Sierra and me.

How we’d watch Icarly together in the evening and give eachother backrubs..

how we’d drive in the car and even if it was Sierra against the world, she’d always confide in me..

how we’d have deep conversations that I always wanted to believe she’d learn something from and would understand..

how she’d push me on the shopping cart as I sang out to her in silly voice, as I called out to her in silly tone..

how no matter how late it was when I got home from work, she’d be laying on the couch in the living room, lights off even, waiting to hear the door open and close so we could talk..

We’d go everywhere together, do everything together.

No one had ever loved me so wholly, so fully, accepted me so unconditionally, enjoyed my company so thoroughly and truly..

I’ll never trust anyone like Sierra.

I’ll never love anyone like Sierra.

I’ll never need anyone, like I need my mother.

And it’s so hard to accept that..

our old life of “together,”

is over.

And music.

And religion.

Well, Chris and I are totally, completely MESMERIZED by Coldplay.  I’ve listened to every album, every song, MULTIPLE times, and have fallen more in love as their spirit and energy have entirely “meshed” with mine.  We’re going to cover Parachutes, X and Y and A Rush of Blood To The Head.  Don’t know if this will be BEFORE or AFTER our 9-month trip to Ukraine (where yes, it’s official, we’ll be doing mission work — waiting on visas).

My devotional life, hassss suffered, yes.  I’m not going to lie.  The fence is broken, caving, chipped, tattered.  I can paint it white and support it with even weaker items, stable the stakes with stones and top each wooden plank with something deocrative, attractive, and lovely

but it’s still broken,

it’s still awful.

Chris and I have been trying to eat healthier, read more, and exercise more as well.

I don’t know what’s missing; motivation, purpose,.. which, leads to a lack of discipline, control, and

seeing the sense in life.

Finding the order of things.

I am a creature of habit – I love to have a schedule.. and, right now, this “inbetween” period, where we’re jobless wanderers in the US who are about to go out and labor as english-teaching SDA Christians in Ukraine, Europe, sucks.

Just waiting for some glue, gum, tape, nails..

something sticky, something strong, something heavy, something whole.

-Aun Aqui

One thought on ““Married Life;” even isolation couldn’t stop the bleed. [Don’t you shiver]

  1. Rose, you’re quite a beautiful writer. Makes me wonder what about your past haunts you. I can’t wait until my daughter will say such nice words to me as you’ve said about your Mom.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s