A New Start

It's hard, honestly it is. But if that's what this is, that's what this is. That's what it will be.

God has plans in store for me greater than I could ever imagine. Greater than anything I could ever want or desire.

All you can control is yourself.

The gym is blissfully empty in the middle of the day.

I'm grasping, but I can't stop. God, please help me.

I'm counting the days to get rid of the pain.

Every minute is a victory.

One A Day

Even though it was hard, we said we'd try

Why is it I feel so alone and betrayed?

Didn't I expect this?

And it's not worth trying anymore,

When there's no one on the other end,

When the line is dead,

And it's so hard to find the motivation

To get up sometimes,

Because at least dreams hold hope

Beyond this cocktail of emotions 

I throw back every hour

And with each passing moment

The emptiness feels bigger

And where is God in all of this?

I'm sorry I'm weak,

I'm sorry I hope

I'm sorry I just want things to be back

To "normal," to being broken together

Hard as it was, hard as it will be,

It's better than drowning

In the silence that's deafening.

Why are you torturing yourself like this?

Despite all you think and tell yourself...

Trust those who walk with a limp.

God's power is made perfect in weakness.

#

How many hands have your hands held?
How many times have you sat at a table and said, "I like you"
"I love you"
To how many people?
How many hearts has your heart touched?
How many lips have you tasted?
How many eyes have your eyes met?
How many nights have been shared?
How many memories spent close to another?
How many girls have you held as they fell asleep?
How many times have you brushed hair out of their faces?
How many circles have you traced on their skin?
How many times did you walk up to give them a hug?
Hold them close?
How many names did you whisper with hope?
How many stories did you give life?
How many days were spent in the company of another, in anticipation of the future?
How many red threads did you weave?

What number am I?

---

Edit: 15, 8, 9

Gone

When she was little she realized
Her demons weren't the dragons of lore
Shape-shifting monsters
They were heavy blankets
Promising comfort but just stifling.
When she was little she realized
The easiest way to deal with them
Was to do what you did with any old object
That can't be thrown out ---
Put them into a box
Seal it up tight
Throw it in a corner to be forgotten.
When she was little she realized
She didn't need a Prince Charming to save her
She didn't want one
Because all they did in their naive desire to help
Was to open the boxes,
Take out the blankets,
And throw them over her to keep her warm.
When she was little she realized
It was up to her to keep everything under control
To hide deep in the maze
To go deeper still
To find the most looked over crevice
Where she could store these blankets,
Unraveled from use.
But though she realized it all,
It wasn't enough.
And every day she found herself drowning in the depths of those threads,
Soaked in guilt,
Woven from sadness,
Thick with regret.

God's delay is not God's denial.