Writing

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Writing has always been a kind of escape for me. Over time I kind of got away from it because I didn’t know what to write or how to put it into words that seemed adequate, but I’m starting to get back into it more again.

Things have changed, so I have things to write about now. I have someone to write for too. And while it’s scary being aware of the fact that someone I know is reading so much of what I write, it’s someone I undoubtedly trust.

I know I shouldn’t be ashamed of my writing, but I can’t help it. I just don’t think it’s good enough sometimes. Especially when I’m writing about my mental illnesses. That’s when I want to write it down on paper and lock it away somewhere so no one can find it. I feel like exposing that part of myself to people is only going to end in me getting hurt, and I don’t need that.

But most of the people who are reading this blog either know me incredibly well, or don’t know me at all. So there’s really nothing for me to be afraid of.
I’ve wanted to put some of my writing up somewhere for a while, and now that I know it’s not awful to let people in, maybe I’ll put something up here…

 

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What If…

What if I found the one and we got engaged and had a wedding and started a family together? Would it be what I’ve imagined for so long? Would it be better? There’s no way of knowing unless it happens – until then it’s nothing but dreams and wishes.

To some it seems a little ridiculous that I’m thinking about this when I’m nowhere near finishing school, or driving, or even really being in a position to start a family. But sometimes that’s the best time to think and dream about it because it’s an escape from reality where it can be absolutely anything I want it to be.

I want to watch him sip his coffee and be jealous of that mug kissing his lips on a frigid winter weekend morning as I stand at the stove making breakfast for us. I want to kiss him goodbye every morning when he goes off to work, even if I’m still in bed half asleep.

I want his arms to be the ones I fall asleep in every night. The warmth and safety I feel to wrap around me as I drift off into my dreams. To know that even if I wake up in the wee morning hours from a terrifying nightmare, I’m still safe because he’s there.

I could be jolted from sleep in the middle of a panic attack. But he would be right there to pull me tight in his arms, run his fingers through my hair, kiss my forehead, and tell me that it’s okay and I’m safe, he won’t let anything get to me.

Imagining what comes with finding the one and marrying him and starting a family and everything else, has got me wondering if maybe I’ve already met him and just don’t know it yet. Or if maybe he’s still out there searching for me too. Perhaps we’ll find each other in the most unlikely place. Not even be aware of the flying sparks till we unexpectedly meet again.

I’ve had dreams about my future. There’s aways a husband and a child with me somehow. But I’ve never seen his face. I can’t wait until the day I find out who he is. I want to be able to look him in the eye and tell him how much I love him. I want to kiss his lips and feel the butterflies in my stomach and the shivers down my spine.

I want to walk down the aisle to him in a white dress and say “I do.” He won’t be the only one crying that day. But neither of us will be crying tears of sadness. At least I hope not. I can’t speak for the reason he’ll be shedding tears, but I’ll be happy that I can finally, officially, call myself his. To finally feel like I have somewhere I truly belong.