Uncertian desires make for an uncertian heart.

I'm wanting this.
I'm wanting to fail.
I'm wanting sideways judgemental glances.
I'm wanting rejection.
I'm wanting respite.
I'm wanting to break this.
I'm wanting to shake this off.
I'm wanting to taper this a bit to fit me tighter.
I'm wanting to fly.
I'm wanting to feel lighter.
I'm wanting to lift this burden from my shoulders.
I'm wanting to be bogged down by love.
I'm wanting to get lost in this.
I'm wanting to be willing to wait in vain.
I'm wanting to say your name before the phrase "I love you."
I'm wanting to not think anymore.
I'm wanting a greater feeling of hope.
I'm wanting to cope.
I'm wanting to fall.
I'm wanting to break all the rules.
I'm wanting more time to decide.
I'm wanting a greater feeling of life inside.
I'm wanting a better form of understanding.
I'm wanting a bigger view of true love.
I'm wanting to feel more.
I'm wanting to heal my heart.
I'm wanting too much.
I'm wanting to stop wanting.
I'm wanting what I cannot have.

I'm confused and don't really know what I want anymore. And I try to think more specifically, to narrow this thought process down. But in the end it all comes down to you and the confusion that you make me feel. It all comes down to this moment of truth. And still I sit with my lips pursed, refusing to move.

The hardest thing I'd ever do.

I am so willing to be utterly honest with you, to answer every question you will ever ask. It isn’t you I fear, it is everyone else standing within earshot of this seemingly private conversation. So let’s find a place, quiet and still, where I can say the words that my mind thinks, the feelings that my heart feels.

The things I never said but should have.

Unwritten letters, they are written in the dark. They write themselves on the pages of my ever-hiding heart.

Who are you? You, beautiful soul, you break the rules. You make me choose. You make me question who I am.

I scribble. The nearly illegible handwriting causes my eyes to strain in a vain attempt to discover the meaning behind these dismal symbols- these letters. It is bad enough that the ultimately discovered words still hide meaning.

I dabble. These thoughts should not be reckoned with, yet I entertain them, if only a little.

What is this? This unbound courage that seeks to break this fear. Where did it come from? I sure didn’t conjure it up of my own accord. It drives me to the darkest places where I hide my fears the most. I come face to face with my own disgrace and attempt lay these fears to waste.

Perfect calm. It guides the sea, the immensity that rages within me. The gentle lapping of the tiny waves seem unrecognizable, a sizable change from the previous battering. I welcome the dawn, the shining reflection of the sun upon the sea represents this new point of view- renewed, brilliant and unwaveringly consistent.

I fight the force that force-feeds me these lies disguised as sustenance. Stones disguised as bread. Salt disguised as water. Lust disguised as love. Heartache disguised as hope.

Enamored I sit undisturbed, untouched by this movement around me. I am bold enough to say the truth. I am scared enough to lie. I mix the two, intertwined, underlining one of my many faults. But would you love me through them. Would you be the one who breaks this perception by sacrificing all you have just to love me regardless? Because I would do the same for you, if you would just let me.

Billowy trees reflect my heart- seemingly so often and easily swayed. Yet, it is stronger than it looks.

The first steps are the hardest, but then you grow used to the change and see the reward that comes from the struggle-filled effort. I have found that these words have escaped my mouth before, but before they were muffled, barely inaudible. Hard to discern in the worst way possible, because I refused to let them accurately describe the feelings in my heart. It has been a lie from the beginning, because I am scared to death to even hint at the truth. This truth that I am utterly confused but don’t plan on becoming this. That I can’t stop these dreams that follow me, nor can I stop the feeling of joy that I have when I wake up and realize that I lived out that possibility, if just for a moment; and I don’t care if it wasn’t real, because it felt real, you felt real. That happened two nights ago, but I can’t be what I wish I could be.

I love you, I miss you, and I barely even know you.

I stand at the door to my house and stare at my feet. I don’t quite wish to enter because I fear the person on the other side. I fear the person who points their finger at me raging against me, against my dreams. I fear being a pariah, feeling unaccepted, but I have finally learned to just be myself and not concern myself with the rest of all this rubbish. I believe in myself, and I am proud to admit it. Not in a haughty way, but in the sense of self-discovery in its best achievable form.

Brace yourself. This is just the beginning. This will make you who you will become.

And when I write, I speak my heart. I speak respite.

Mildly disguised things hidden in my heart- that is the source of these thoughts. This is the blank canvas on which I shall paint my masterpiece. My heart and my mind form the color, the shading, the texture; bringing a form of art previously unseen, unexposed. The words take shape and create movement. This imagination works overtime, but realistically seeks a medium for vent halation. This is good for me. Only once the smoke clears, will I be able to see unhindered.

I watched a movie today. It only furthered my disbelief. This is a hard notion to escape when you see it constantly lived out in real life. It is hard to discredit when it is proven multiple times a day, every day of the year, every year of your currently short-lived life. Why do we have to find this thing to be happy, can’t we find fulfillment and love within ourselves and in who He is?

Today I met a puppy. My friend proudly dubbed it Cocoa. The name suited not the appearance, but the warm heart of the little guy. Must we be so quick to judge with our eyes?

Bittersweet revelation followed me from the pet store.
Sweet relief softened my heart a tiny bit more.
And still, I attempt to take a small step forward.

I fought a pigeon for his last breadcrumb. Unfortunately, I lost.

And what good does this bring, this absence of heart, this empty feeling? It makes me realize I can make it without you, but I would much rather not. I would much rather see you daily, hear your thoughts, and learn your heart more than you usually let people learn it. But I can’t, and well, I fear you won’t let me. It is because you know that I am hiding something. Perhaps you think it is lack of trust that drives me not to tell you this thing, but I trust you a great deal. This time it’s true when I say, “It isn’t you; it’s me.”

I am still too chicken to do this, to knowingly await this impending judgment. It is the only thing that will occur; I am not stupid.
I am still too unwilling to do this, to risk this thing for such a great uncertainty. I can’t say that this is what I really want; I never desired this thing before.
I am still too cynical to do this, to believe that “love” could be enough this time. Because my love and your love are two different loves, and well if one side fails the whole thing falls apart. And knowing me, I will be the one holding on as you walk quietly away.

People give up far too easily. Why can’t we really mean it when we make promises? Is it too hard? Are we too afraid of the foreseeable hurt that we ditch at the first opportunity to do so? At least that way we won’t have to see it through, to really risk our hearts.

With that said, I promise I will always love you, even if it isn’t the way I wish it could be. Know this, you will always, always have my heart.

This wayward path it winds us about; and honestly, I’m getting dizzy.

I sat on a pile of sand afraid that the small granules would somehow creep into my pants, that they would irritate me. I glanced at the sky and when I did, these meaningless thoughts left my mind. I was enamored of a sight that brought out something in me. The sight of the moon’s luminescence reflecting off the ocean’s surface made a calm rise up within me, it brought peace to a war laden, torn, and heavy heart.

I made a feeble attempt at a picture, but my eyes and my mind captured the scenery much better. How miniscule those grains of sand became as they shrank under the enormity of the star-filled sky above. They seemed nearly irrelevant in comparison to this greater thing. Sometimes I focus too much on the unimportant things in life. However, I find that I somehow get pulled back to where everything is placed into perspective. I am glad for this. Now, I see a bigger picture, a greater end; but I still very much fear failure and regret.

Living uninhibited it hard for me sometimes, I like to plan things out to know what will happen next. But I am getting better with not knowing, with going with the flow, with either having failure or success. I can’t win them all. No one can.
All I can do is try my best, 100 percent effort.
All I can do is push forward with a smile, regardless of the outcome.
All I can do it love, no matter if they love me back, no matter what they say or do, no matter if they harm my heart. Cause that is what He did/does for me.

I bent my knees and with a small amount of force lifted myself from the sand. I shoved my balled-up hand into my pocket to rest. Amongst my jingly change I felt it, the sand, quite a bit of it. I soon discovered that wasn’t the only place it had crept into, but surprisingly enough, my feelings didn’t match my forecasted sentiments. Irritation didn’t come, and I realized this small thing didn’t really matter much anymore. The importance of the matter had come and left, as fleeting as the consistent reoccurring feelings for you, which have plagued my heart this past year. But still I wish to feel them, to live with these messed up ideals, to learn from this no matter how much it might destroy me. Because even if I am destroyed, I can rebuild; and I know that it will be bigger and better than ever before, this love.
Eager anticipation is my friend.
Fear is my crutch.
Hope is my driving force.
Love is everything.
It still is, and well, it always will be.

And I told you for the second time not to love me. You never listen. I love you for that.

I am walking backwards with ease, finding this newness different. My eyes are of no use. They only see what has been; only my heart can imagine what could be.
I dream. I dream. I dream.

Realized dreams are little pieces of me lived out to their fullness, come alive through struggle and sweat, through hope and faith, through mere chance which oddly enough seems perfectly planned.
Planned chance? And the confusion rises again.

Endless struggle attempts to break me from these romantic ideals, but still I believe in them. Silly fool. You are just like the others, the ones you claim not to resemble. The ones you fight so strongly against. You are going to fall hard and you know it. But still you repress and still you hide, lying all the while to protect your heart. It is more fragile than they think. So breakable.

This will become a new thing, this false disbelief. Will someone please prove me wrong? Will someone please stand inches from my face and make me realize there is more. There is a better that has no painful end, no emptiness, no loss of heart.
So would you leave it, never risk it, never become the vulnerability that you very much want, but very much fear?

Dear man, good heart… no.