Have you ever heard that song? It’s by Frightened Rabbit and it makes so much more sense to me now than ever. I thought I would be affected by it but I felt almost numb or “okay”. I think I know what that means. I’m seriously ready to let go of that life and everything that came with it.
I want to share with you a letter I wrote to my parents this morning at about 4:31 a.m. I understand that I am a 33-year-old woman, but I don’t feel like I ever grew up past 17. That’s a lot of where I stopped growing, after a pretty traumatic event, and if you’ve followed me for a while, you’ll know.
Taking Care of Love
I love Patrick. Let’s first get that straight. I do deserve the love he gives to me, the caring nurturing person that he is as a whole. When I saw him write, “Why won’t someone take care of me sometimes?” that hurt. So, I will be taking care of Patrick after his surgery. I will be there to cook, clean, walk Dexter, assist him to the bathroom, shower, and do anything else that he may need at that time. He has only shown me love that could flourish, not diminish. I owe him this and if I want to be his wife someday, I have to gain his trust back and show him the woman I know that I can be in his life as he shows me husbandly duties in mine without obligation. I am an adult and can make adult decisions and this is one that I feel strongly about. This is only temporary until he can do things by himself and get back up on his feet. He lives alone, he has no one to tend to his day and night and I think for a week, that’s not asking much. It’s my turn to take care of him only in the ways he has ever taken care of me. I will then return home and continue healing but I feel this is a healing opportunity too, for our relationship and or what our life will be because one day it’ll only be us. We will take care of Eddie and we have you to thank for that, Mom and Dad. I have been shown a new light and I’m taking hold of it today and every day. I will continue to find my joy each and every day. I must be a Ruth to my Boaz and sleep at his feet and tend to his needs in order to have the life I want to live every day for the rest of my life. To give my son exactly what he needs. I know what I have to do, and this is part of it. I know this is God-led. I wouldn’t have had the urge so bad to get out of bed and explain but my words get jumbled when they are not on a page. I love you and I cherish all that you do for me and my son. I know Eddie is safe here, he has a home in you.
Autumn is my writer and the one who fronts with me as I write whenever I write. She is 17 and one of my best friends. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? Ever since my experience, she has been there. I love those “inner hugs”. We’ve grown in our skills and I love to watch the progress each day. The love for writing is such an honored gift of God and I just want to use it in a way that honors Him.
I feel the need to have to explain myself to everyone because I want to hurt no one. My disease and addiction keep me blinded from realizing that’s exactly what I’ve done until it’s over and done with. Then I can go back, overanalyze and repeat. I know that I’ve said “not this time” more than a million times, but something has changed inside. Every time clarity overtakes my brain fog, I know Jesus has intervened in some way that becomes blatantly obvious. It does make me feel silly for not seeing it right away, but our trials wouldn’t be trials if they did. A reason for everything.
My mind is starting to shift topics because I can’t stop thinking about the complete craziness of my playlist. My taste in music is extremely diverse. I love it. Something I love about me I guess? What? I love something about myself? *GASP*