I stopped running

I wrote once about how I always felt the darkness closing in on me, chasing me with every step. Now I don't think it was darkness. It was God, pursuing me relentlessly with his love. But at the time I was terrified of that God, seeing him as a judge rather than a loving Father whose passion to love me is more fierce than any power in the universe. Once I realized that God loves me, once I learned to accept myself, once I started to trust him - even in the slightest - I stopped running. And I was violently overtaken by my pursuer. But He did not bring death as I'd imagined. Rather He brought an overpowering sense of life, allowing me to see the truth of who I am and be at peace with that. He brought a holy reckoning on my soul, but instead of being full of condemnation it overflowed with complete and unconditional love and acceptance.

When I arrive

Someday I’ll look you in the eyes and ask, “Do you know what I went through to get here?”
And I’ll watch the tears come to your eyes. And I’ll know you know.

Although

Although you threw away my name from your mind...I have to try...sometimes.

Although you hit me hard, I come back.

Because in the times that matter, you are the one in my mind.
Because it seems like the most unlikely path.
Because I can see you knowing me more than anyone ever has.

Although you hit me hard, I come back.

Bones

This loneliness is gangrene eating away the flesh of the prime of my life - which cannot be recovered or repaired. Every night more rots away as it works its way through muscle and sinew. And when I finally find her, I may be nothing left but bones.

The Good Night

Have a shot of Beam and get a little drunk on Keystone Light with some friends at dollar taco night, buy a sixer of Coors Light and some Turkish Silvers on the way home, smoke one of those Turkish Silvers, crack open one of those Coors Lights, and still catch half of Conan. Now that’s a good night.

At the seams

I want to pull myself apart at the seams. Because it’s gonna happen anyway. Now it’s just a matter of whether it will be accidental or intentional.

Just me

I’m leaving behind the notion that any of the people I’ve turned to for refuge or comfort or hope could ever be that. I’m leaving behind any notions that there was ever anything there meaningful or honest. I’m looking truth in the face and hearing what is not being said rather than what is. Now I’m being practical. Now I’m being realistic. Now I’m recognizing this for what it is, or rather, isn’t. And it’s cold. And it’s lonely. But it’s the truth.

Somehow that is comforting. It’s just me on this road. And either I’ll make it or I won’t.