Prose From the Soul: A Letter to You

Dear You,

I have been coming here for a long time now. It’s been years since my return and since then, I have grown and my directions have changed. Then again, my intentions have changed as well which means I have changed and so have you. So has the rest of the world and since this is true, then it’s also true that we all evolve somehow. 

I cannot say that I know why I’ve said the things I’ve said in my past or why I did what I did. I can’t say why I never pulled the plug or took a chance when I had the opportunity.
I can say that I know there was inventory. I know that I have challenges and places in the heart which have led me in the wrong direction. I can say that I understand what it means to search and come back empty handed or fruitless. I can also say that I understand regret and in fact, I can say that we know each other on a first name basis

But you,
You know me. Perhaps a little too well.
You know where I am and why I’ve come here. You know about the scars and the hidden fears and the childish remnants of old results that no longer exist; yet, you know so much that in the end, you’ll anticipate my fears before I have the chance to feel them or be afraid. You know me well enough that you can see where I’ll start or finish and in the end, you know me better than anyone. I know this and so do you.

I have created this little place in my head, like a studio, which has changed throughout the years. I have been coming here every day since August of 06. It has been here that I have come to new heights and different levels of realization.
It was here that I learned to process the unfortunate outcomes, abuse, unwanted histories, touches, interactions and the feelings of “what was” and more than this, it was here that I began my evolution of self and began these entries into a porthole of promise. And that’s why I come here: for promise. I come here to find my purpose and to keep my strength intact – to keep from the weariness and yes, to see you as a modicum or at least a semblance of support. But yet, you are more. You are far more. And that’s why I come here. 

This is where the platform of my transformation took place and while I am still growing and continuously changing, this is where I have come to realize that although I am not where I want to be (yet) I am on my way more than ever before. 

I have come here to share my life with you, without decoration or without the need to pridefully act or “be” someone other than me. I have come here to expose my assumptions as well as celebrate my growth. While I have envisioned you as my only source of true grounding; you have allowed me the chance to voice myself – or better yet, as I’ve tried to grow and explain myself, this has allowed me to find my voice – so I can be free. You’ve been here for this every step of the way.

These thoughts are not for everyone.
I understand this.
I know there are people who would scoff or twist their grin at me. I know there are people who would judge or make a comment or leave a remark. And trust me, I know all about the critics, including the critics in my head. I hear from them all the time.
Either way, critical or not, this is me. This is why I came here. This is why I’ve built this little place in my head; my loft, my workspace, my studio and my means to build the model ship which I can use to take me where I want to be.

I have told you everything here from the embarrassing to the humbling, to the hurtful and the sinful and from the marks in my roadmap to where I’ve turned wrong; I have taken you with me to the crossroads where I’ve come to an empowering awareness that above all; I can move on – if I choose to.

There is the fact which remains that there are simple truths and simple facts that are otherwise difficult for us to swallow. I was told a long time ago about a simple program for complicated people; in which of course, I understood this.
I was told that “some” are sicker than others and that, in fact, I might be one of the “some.” However, in some cases, I have outgrown my surroundings and in other cases, I have come to the understanding that my surroundings are nothing more than figurative distractions. It’s all up to me.

I am you. I am me. I am the person next door or the one you’re standing next to on the subway heading downtown. I am this. I am a compilation of historic events and cognitive traps that have either moved ahead or remained in the brain of an unresolved tension. 

This is me to the core which is why I offer this here. In part, I give this away; partly as a gesture of trust and partly as a means to move on; or partly as a way to process the old memories or in part, I expose this as something I do to create movement which enables me to leave the past behind. But not only that; I come here because there’s no one else here but you and me. No one can tell on us. No one can judge us. No one can laugh or make a face. 
No. 
None of that can happen here. This is why I’ve built this place. I’ve built it because I had to. I had to find somewhere safe for us to be who we are. I had to build this place to use as a refuge or as a sanctuary where I can offer my thoughts without having them splashed in my face.

I would like you to see me for who I am, right here, and right now. I am that boy who was bullied. I am that person who used this pain as a torch and passed this on to the weaker or to the generation below me. 
I am that young child who trusted yet that trust was violated and reverberated (or re-echoed) in my head for decades. I am equally sacred and raw, open and vulnerable, which is difficult.

I am me, the person who you’ve seen walking and beneath me is all of my past and my assumptions. I am a cognitive web and system of thoughts and ideas, feelings and, of course, I am the end result of all of this, which is emotion, which is chemistry or chemical, which is why there are times when my chest gets tight. This is why there are times when my flight or fight takes off, racing and thus; my heartbeat takes off and my adrenaline moves into a new state of ignition. This is why the fits of anxiety led me to feel unsafe. Not because of you . . . but just because. 

You know, I never told anyone that I wanted to become a writer. Then again, I never thought that I had what it takes and there are times when the doubt is thick and the waters are murky.
There are times when although I have you, I am alone yet there are times when I have the chance to speak in classrooms about my experience, honestly and openly, and there it is – all the proof in the world that we are all human in spite of our best efforts. We are all imperfect in spite of ourselves and although we know this on an intellectual level, there are still the emotional levels that we have to contend with. 

I used to want to be tough. I used to want to be cool or at least relevant or wanted and desired. I used to want to stand out in a crowd and now that I have come to find you; or better yet, now that I have built this place, one piece at a time; I know that while I have faults; I am good.
Although I have sins, I am good.
Although I have a past, I am not that person I’ve conjured up in my head nor am I the sum of my past or my past decisions. 

I began my journals as a cathartic means to end the voices in my head which churn and sometimes repeat themselves. I began this path because I was tired of taking medications which they said would help but in the end – they never did.
Instead, I felt worse or even worse than this; I felt nothing. Not high or low – just buffering in the mid-stages of a glue-like state that neither helped or degraded but instead – I was tired of staying the same or “as I was”
I built this as an engine to switch from depressive or rejective thinking to encouraging and empowering ideas. I built this place to deconstruct the ideas of harmful ideations and rather than die, I built this place so I can live.
I have constructed this as a means to seek my best form of recovery – so that I can do more than just rebuild my life – so that I can be more than satisfied, but happy in the sense that I know that rain will come and darkness will fall.
I know bad news is always on the way but, now that I have you and now that I’ve built this place; not everything has to be so tragic or deemed as a catastrophe that somehow ends my life (figuratively speaking)

I built this place to create a space where I can let this all go; all the words that spin in my head; all the feelings that twirled in my center and all of the emotions and all of the assumptions or the predictions of catastrophes.
I built this place as somewhat of a receptacle where I can discharge the energies – So I can walk away. So I can feel better. So I can love you and so that I can love me at the same time and be one step better, perfectly, every day, in good times or bad, in sickness or in health, from this day onward until death do us part.

I have never written the same thing twice nor have I repeated myself. Everything I have done with you is new. Unless of course, we’ve revisited something. But either way, this is you – my heart and my hope and, of course, my sounding board and keeper of secrets.

Thank you for believing in me.
But more, thank you for never leaving me.
Thank you for being here with me, every day, because honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Do you?

I am coming close to the end of this journal. I have a few more things to say but not too much. Just a few more pages, So please, stick with me.
We’re almost through with this journal. But that’s just it; this is just a journal. We have the rest of the world to trace – together, if you’ll have me.