It is my intention to accentuate the benefits
of hope, or if not,
and if for no other reason,
my intention with this journal,
or these posts are to illustrate
one simple thing—
There is no hope in hopelessness,
and there is no peace in resentment.
I know this all too well.
There is no love where love no longer grows
or where love is limited
or guarded
and there is no healing
when rage outweighs the senses
of a greater good.
I see no reason to have hate in my heart
or anger,
or to live with the ideas of rejection
or to believe that, for some reason,
I am not enough,
or that I am not good enough,
or that I am ugly and not beautiful
or that something about me
is simply defective
because I was not chosen
or wanted.
I heartily note that healing takes time
and that the saying is true
that “this too shall pass,”
and it will
as long as I allow it.
Furthermore,
I hold myself accountable
and call out my actions
which have accumulated
or can otherwise be described
as the wreckage of my past.
I own this.
I know what I’ve done
or said
or who I’ve hurt
and I certainly know how
and it is with a heavy heart
that I announce my claim
and surrender to my responsibility.
I say this both wholeheartedly
and regretfully. But also,
I say this knowingly
to avoid this in my future
and rectify my past
by allowing myself to escape
instead of making the same mistake
again and again.
I cannot be misled by mirages of the heart
or false hopes
which are not real,
nor tangible
or even obtainable.
I get it . . .
I can never outlive my yesterday.
And that’s fine because yesterday
is gone anyway
and it is up to me
to let the “old me” go
so the new me can begin
and I can start over.
I see no reason to believe that
my life should be lived
in a constant state of questioning myself,
or that I should walk alone
as if to believe that I am deserving of this
or undeserving of someone
or as if to wonder if I am valid
or right, or wrong,
or in the face of my life and for the rest of my days
I see no reason to live sad or to be miserable,
to which it is my intention to recreate my hopes
which are as follows:
I hope to find my way.
I hope to find my ever-after.
I hope that the way I pictured my life
is only half as glorious as it will be
when the day comes that I cross the finish line
and I can look back
and say yes,
I did it.
I hope that I find my path
and soon
and that I take the trips
and take the chances
and allow myself the rites of passage
of being human
and valued
instead of being secondary
or being a second choice.
I hope that I learn to do this without question
or without the need to relitigate what happened
or living with the need to analyze what took place
and rather than account for my losses,
I hope that I can give myself the boost it takes
to step away
and enjoy a fresh breath,
which to me,
this is my way of saying ah . . .
the rest of my life belongs to me
and now
I am free.
I hope that I find it in my heart
to forgive my trespasses
and as for those who
trespassed against me; my hope
is that I wake up
and realize that this is on them
and not on me.
So, I can let that go now
and no one else
can stop me.
I hope that I find a way to make that drive
from Carlsbad to wherever,
or that maybe I will drive along the coast
or have the top down,
and all will be perfect, despite my imperfections.
I hope that I make this worthwhile
and learn to enjoy the journey
instead of being resentful
that my life never happened the way
I planned it to be.
I hope that I can learn from my mistakes
so that my life can move on
instead of holding on
or being stuck in some past idea
or to hold onto something
that was never really mine
to begin with
and resent the rainbow
for wishes that never came true.
I hope that healing becomes as easy
as the taste of honey
and that my daily recovery
allows me the freedom
to recognize that I am okay,
that no one is going to die,
just because something never happened
or worked out,
or even if I learn that something
was never real or right
or possible, or that I was “the one,”
it’s okay. . .
because despite the fall,
my love will be reborn
and she will be all I need
to help me stand again.
The dream is still good.
The vision is still perfect;
however, it’s okay to recognize that sometimes
I had the right plan –
I just went about this with the wrong
execution, and henceforth, or in perfect hindsight,
my hope is that I will allow myself
to learn rather than wallow
and that when my eyes open wide enough
to see the truth in my upcoming life,
I will realize my worth
and my value
and choose what I deserve
instead of submitting
to an idea that degrades my value.
I want this – the good life
I want to work for this
as hard as I work to live and breathe.
I want to work even harder
so that I can live, love, laugh and learn
the right way.
It is not my intention to weep or cry
or to complain
or to lament or find countless reasons
to be afraid nor is my position to withdraw
or quit.
I’ve never quit before,
so it makes no sense to start now.
And no,
I didn’t quit.
I just opened my eyes
and realized that I have to adjust myself
and be where I belong.
But sometimes,
it pays to realize
that moving forward is the only option.
Otherwise, we find ourselves stuck in some
unwanted life which is just shy of our hopes
or maybe this is even toxic
or enough to create a sad atmosphere
where I am “not the one,”
or that somehow,
I am unfit
or not worthy,
and then all I do is try to dig myself out of a hole
that only grows deeper.
I don’t ever want to be unworthy
or unloved,
unfit
or unwanted, or second choice
and just the same,
I don’t ever want to lend myself
to anything that teaches me
to think this way
(about myself).
There is no reason to live with hate
or anger
or to walk around
and believe in rejection because
while I understand that life
is a constant volume of change,
my hope is that now
I can see the future is bright
instead of allowing my hopes to be clouded
by something that hurt me or wore me down
to a thing layer
of who I truly am.
I can see how my interactions
led me to where I am,
which is why I call for this change
so that I can change
and be happy
to become someone new.
Hope . . .
I hope that this works out.
I hope that I let myself surpass
my limitations.
I hope that when the skies open up
and the time is right,
I hope that the love in my heart
is stronger than the demons
of my past—and therefore,
when the time is right,
or when the lights are bright
and the music is sweet,
I will not let this pass
or give in to some unwanted fear
which would’ve held me back
(at one point)
and stopped me
from asking the following,
which, and whenever the time is right,
I promise to ask –
excuse me, but . . .
If you’re not too busy,
may I have the next dance?
I promise not to skip a beat
or let you go.
The Written Addiction 