Love, Lorraine

confession.

Dear Girl,

I knew something was wrong, not that I could attribute that deduction to any great intelligence or wit. I only knew because I’d been there before. I noticed the lies because I’d used them before. I noticed the way she stopped talking for fear of letting one secret slip. I was once similarly silent.

The confession came today. “I keep messing up and I don’t want anyone to know about it. But I messed up and I’m scared. Happy?”

Happy? Happy?

Actually, happy was a recent thought. When was that? Yesterday, maybe, sitting at home reading and shovelling Nutella in my mouth. This morning, probably, driving to work with the windows down, not bothered by the chilled humid air. A few minutes ago, when I smiled at nothing and no one, swivelling in my chair and enjoying the quiet clicking of keyboards in the office.

And now, the confession. A confessions of lessons never learned and mistakes repeated. A confession that reminded me of the heartbreak I once endured. It’s been a long time since I felt the sting of it.

No, I am not happy.

Love,

Lorraine

estranged.

Of all the things we sometimes have to give up, for our own good, people are always the hardest to let go of.

destruction.

Dear self,

Promise yourself -myself- that you will never again walk into a trap, when you saw the nets a mile away. What was potentially a mistake becomes self destruction when you walk into it with open eyes.

You only have one you, who only has one heart. Protect it.

Love,

Lorraine

Keep and guard your heart with all vigilance and above all that you guard, for out of it flow the springs of life. Proverbs 4:23 (Amplified) 

tick tock.

Forget a biological clock. The clock that measures time in my childhood home, with my parents, has ticked away all its available seconds. I can’t be here anymore.

sacrifice.

There are times I feel like yelling out to God, “you don’t understand what I am sacrificing.”

And then, I remember.

courage.

Sometimes I notice patterns in my life. A reoccurring word. A specific make of car I suddenly see everywhere. A series of moods that lather, rinse, repeat. 

Perhaps these are random occurrences, but maybe sometimes they are little things meant to teach us little lessons. Small bits of divine intervention meant to highlight a truth. Abbreviated moments of clarity, as we suddenly see ourselves pulled up close to life’s mirror.

Lately, there is a pattern of people crossing my path. It’s as if I meant to notice these people, who possess the courage to say things I know but will never have the bravery to express.