The Heart Knows No Boundary

Source (picture of a person through frosted glass)

Because I wanted to touch your face, if only to feel the connection of your soul to mine… But I couldn’t. I could only stare at you from the other side of this frosted windowpane, and touch my hand to yours through the glass. My heart overflows with love, and yet I curse the fate which keeps us apart and the senses lost through human attrition. My heart overflows with love and maybe one day I’ll understand… The connection of our souls is not dependent on proximity. My heart overflows with love and I meet you somewhere in the beyond.

Your Fortress

Source (picture of a person walking near mist, shrouded buildings)

My heart slams against your walls time and time again, trailing to the floor in a battered heap of blood and tears. I hadn’t meant to get so close to your boundaries but how could I see them, when you’ve made them invisible? They stand like silent fortresses, shrouded in a mist of confusing words and signals.

So now, I lie, sobbing, in a heap of confused hopelessness and wondering if your inner battle will rage on forever. I thought I knew the answer, but I was wrong. I thought I knew you, but you were wrong.

A Yearning to Shatter the Kaleidoscope

Source (picture is kaleidoscopic)

I see the world through a kaleidoscope of fears, worry, confusion and doubt. It feeds a steady drip of poison in my veins, wrought from the existential dread of a life misunderstood. My desire to live soulfully, numbed by the conditions of this world and my instinct for survival. I trudge onward through the boot-sucking mud in a state of semi-consciousness. Who will save me from the delusions of my birthright?

Not I.

Truth and Faith

Source (picture of female-presenting people looking down at the camera)

Have you ever tried (I mean really really tried) to choose your words so carefully, you could never harm another? I have, and its much more difficult than it sounds. I learned quickly how many of us walk around with fragile, eggshell-thin egos, ready to break with the slightest provocation.

In this world, it’s important to say things that are true and real and brave. It’s important to speak against cruelty, violence and lies. It’s important to use our words to mitigate harm wherever possible, and yet, to speak such things is threatening to the ones who are supposed to be the boldest and bravest among us. How easily their lives flail at the smallest inkling of truth.

How do you keep your mind clean in such a contaminated world, where it’s so easy to get caught up in fear and frustration? How do you keep your heart pure, when speaking words from love can put you at the greatest risk? How do you keep the hatred from creeping into your soul?

I wish I knew completely, but I don’t. All I know is faith. If I have faith, (even if it’s the tiniest kernel of it) that all of this has meaning and kindness counts for something, somewhere… Then maybe, just maybe, I can make a difference.

Isolation in the Park

Source (picture of a park bench)

She wouldn’t have noticed him on any other day, but today they were the only two in the park. She had been about to leave, wary of the cold metal bench pressing into her legs, but his flax-colored hair caught her eye… And her heart. Her breath caught in her throat. It was as if she already knew and loved him.

He was looking too, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze. He smiled and somehow, the world between them warmed. She smiled back and his hand lifted into a wave. She returned it but he was already standing. Her heart flopped with disappointment. Hadn’t he felt the electricity between them?

But he didn’t walk away. He walked toward her. She simultaneously hoped and feared the potential of his closeness. If he invaded her space, it would ruin her. She would have to make excuses for him. She didn’t want to justify him already… She wanted his perfection, at least for this moment.

He stopped, maintaining the requisite six foot distance and opened his coat. For a second she thought he would flash her but he didn’t. He merely motioned to the pajamas he wore underneath. “I had no reason to get dressed today but if you are here tomorrow, perhaps it will give me a reason to look good.”

She smiled and answered, “Perhaps.”

“I will be here around 2pm.” He smiled sheepishly, winked and turned away, walking past his bench and out of the park, while she sat grinning and thinking of the dresses she thought she’d never have an occasion to wear.

Clinging

Source (picture of a couple holding hands)

I lie awake in bed and reach gently for your chest. I didn’t want to wake you. I only wanted to feel the rise and fall of your ribcage. I needed to feel it before I could succumb to sleep. How many nights will I be able to reach for you like this? How many hours will I spend by your side? How many more minutes to look into your eyes?

I know there is a danger in letting myself love you this hard. I’ve become savage in my attempts to keep you safe because I no longer know if my heart beats without yours to accompany its melody. We’re a perfect harmony, aren’t we?

Aren’t we?

I ask because sometimes I think my need hits a sour note, barely audible in our beautiful symphony but there to spoil my innocence, nonetheless. I just can’t let you go. 

Drowning

Source (picture of a female presenting person immersed in water)

I’m sinking, as I knew I would. I saw the signs days ago. My cracking veneer didn’t stand a chance against the force of your emotions. I knew eventually the darkness would come rushing in to pull me under with its unbreakable grip.

Even as I’m pulled deeper and deeper into the abyss, I know I’m the one to blame. I should have built a stronger hull, an impenetrable shell. I should have known your mood couldn’t withstand my worry. I should have learned when to stop trying to make you console me… But, even now, I can’t. Instead, I cling stupidly to my anchor of righteousness, as it drags me to my death.

Iris

Source (picture of an iris)

Every day a freshly cut batch of irises appeared on the sidewalk, just at the start of a picture-perfect, white picket fence. Every day she averted her eyes as she passed. She felt guilty for doing it but it gave her the creeps. Why couldn’t Mrs. Tenlove give it a rest already? It wasn’t like this town would ever forget what happened to Iris. Flowers on the sidewalk would never bring her daughter back.

Gretchen shuddered. She was tired of the memories, tired of having to walk past the house on her way to school every day, tired of nosy people, who always wanted to know what happened. Iris had been her friend and now she was gone. The night she died was horrible. Wasn’t that enough for people? Why did they need to know the details?

She pulled her hoodie tighter around her face and trudged onward. All she had to do was not make eye contact and keep her mouth shut all day, or maybe she would glare at anyone who approached her. Either way, she wasn’t going to talk about Iris.

“Gretchen!” Gretchen cringed and tried to pretend she didn’t hear, but Mrs. Tenlove was running to catch up with her. There was no way to avoid her. She turned towards Iris’mother, stopped and waited for her to catch up. 

“Gretchen, I’m so glad I caught you. I left you a few messages.” Mrs. Tenlove looked thin and worn but she smiled at Gretchen with warmth and her eyes held great concern.

Still, Gretchen reddened a little under her hoodie. She had been sending Mrs. Tenlove straight to voicemail ever since the funeral. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. She had intended to say something about being busy but it died on her lips as Mrs. Tenlove scooped her into an unexpected embrace.

“Of course it’s ok, Darling. You were Iris’ best friend. You were there with her when… ” A small whispered sob escaped her but she powered through. She pulled back from Gretchen with her hands on her shoulders, looking her squarely in the eyes. “You stayed with her. You didn’t leave her alone. I can’t tell you how much comfort that gives me.”

Gretchen nodded but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Iris’ death had left a big hole in her life. She had no other friends, no social life, no one to tell her secrets to or laugh with. She didn’t know who she was without Iris. She missed her so much.

Mrs. Tenlove seemed to understand all of her unspoken feelings. “Oh, Honey. I miss her so much too.” It was this moment of compassion that broke Gretchen’s stoicism. All of the tears she hadn’t been able to cry rose to the surface at once. The dam broke and Gretchen collapsed in the resulting flood. Mrs Tenlove caught her and held her as she cried. “Oh, you poor girl. You poor, poor girl, ” she cooed steadily as Gretchen sobbed and sobbed.

“It was all my fault. I was the one… I wanted… I wanted to run… I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Gretchen pulled away from Mrs. Tenlove’s embrace. “Didn’t you hear me? It was all my fault. Iris died because of me. I talked her into running with me.”

“No.” To Gretchen’s surprise, Mrs. Tenlove didn’t look at all shocked or angry. She just looked sad. “It wasn’t your fault. She had a defect in her heart. You couldn’t have known. No one knew.”

“She… She… What?”

“She had a heart problem. It wasn’t your fault. That’s why I’ve been trying to call you… Well, that and I wanted you to have some of her things. Gretchen… Hey. Look at me. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes things just happen.” Tears were falling down her cheeks now but she didn’t bother to wipe them. Gretchen was glad because she was still crying too and couldn’t stop. But there was something else… something had changed. She wasn’t angry anymore. She was just sad.

“Come with me to the house. I have some things for you.”

“I’m supposed to go to school.”

“We’ll call your mother and I’ll give you a ride if she wants you to go but I have a feeling you could use a break from everyone.”

Gretchen nodded. She really could. She allowed Mrs. Tenlove to steer her toward the house where Iris had lived. Perhaps they could find some comfort in each other’s company today.

Hurtful Words

Source (picture of a couple looking upset and turned from each other)

She felt the words she hadn’t meant to say drip from her lips like blood. Each one was as heavy as lead and scented like a decaying corpse. He recoiled as if physically repulsed, and she wished she could recoil from herself. She had gone too far and, once spoken, the words could never fully be taken back.

A silence stretched out between them, a gulf of unspoken shock and shame. Her words reverberated within it and she fought the urge to flee. It didn’t matter. He turned and walked away, leaving a stream of obscenities in his wake. She sunk to the floor and sobbed, a void where her heart should be.

Minutes passed like hours, the knot of pain in her stomach intensifying with each one. He was gone and she couldn’t blame him if he never returned. She cried until she felt dehydrated and weak with exhaustion… And still she didn’t rise. She curled into the fetal position and fell asleep on the floor.

The door opened and closed and she felt the resulting breeze kiss her face. She stirred and fluttered her eyelids, while her consciousness rose quickly through the stages of waking. His face, close to hers, was first comforting, then alarming.

“Shit! Dave! How long have you been there?” She was fully awake now, her heart hammering in her chest.

“I left, walked aroumd the city until I cooled off, stopped for a drink and came home. Have you been lying on the floor the whole time?”

“Yes.”

Dave, who had been squatting, shifted his weight to the wall and slid to the floor. He looked like a kid, sitting there with his feet outstretched and she was overcome once again by her shame. He met her gaze steadily for a few moments before he spoke, “Dana, why did you say those things to me? You had to know how much they would hurt me.”

“I was so angry,” she sobbed.

“So was I but I didn’t need to decimate you.”

“So, are you done with me?”

“No but we need to talk about it and I need to understand how you could become so angry and hit so low.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I actually know that our I wouldn’t be here. Let’s get up off the floor. I brought back some take out. We’ll eat and then we’ll talk though it. I’m not sure if I need to say this but the talking is non-negotiable at this point.”

“Ok. I’ll do my part.”

“I know you will or I wouldn’t have bothered coming back.” Dave rose from the floor and reached out a hand to her. She took it and stood to face him. She would do whatever it took.

Side by Side

Source (picture of a female-presenting person kneeling in front of candles with hands in prayer position)

I wander the beach in thoughtful solitude, allowing the sand and waves to pull my world-weariness through the soles of my feet. I had invited you to come, but you chose to stay in bed. I don’t mind. You have your spiritual practice… I have mine.

Later we might take a walk in the city, sit at a cafe and say a gentle prayer of thanks. Later, I might sit in the park and meditate, while you watch the passersby and smile at the sky. Later we might visit your favorite church, light candles and drop to our knees…

It doesn’t matter, as long as we walk this path side by side.