When words seem to fail…

There are three phrases in the English language that seem to lose meaning after a while. “Thank you”, “I’m sorry” and “I love you”. Either they’re used too much and love is referred to when speaking of something meaningless like cheeseburgers or they’re used too little or quite possibly too quietly. I tend to under-use all those phrases or mumble them under my breath because sometimes those words aren’t enough to justifiably describe how I’m feeling.

So it turns out that I can be surprised, in a good way. Humans can still shock me a bit, although he’s not a typical human. He’s probably one of the most perplexing, emotionally jumbled, strangely astute and perfectly imperfect humans that I know. Our relationship is both daunting and draining yet emotionally charged and wonderful all in the same breath. Of all the people I’ve known in my life, no one has ever had the impact on my emotional soul like he and it pisses me off!

That’s actually not true, all the time. Sometimes it’s wonderful because these are new ways of thinking or feeling for me. Tonight I am glad to have this blog because usually, in our perplexing existence with each other, after we have an argument or something great that happens I usually end up sending some emotional vomit disguised as a letter or text but as I said before, I’m done with my old ways. Instead of putting it out there for him to see, which makes him roll his eyes and be uncomfortable or knowing that there’s always a great possibility that he’ll never read it because he’s got the attention span of a hamster, I’m putting it out here.

I’m looking around my home today and realizing that this is his way of care, love and thanks. He’s cleaned and rearranged everything, all while cooking dinner last night while I was sleeping feeling like crap. This is the reason why, over the last couple years, that no one else has had this place in my heart. He knows me. More than I’d like to admit. His care and concern comes across like the brutal sting of a rose thorn but with the beauty of the rose. I have to take a minute to let the sting wear off before noticing the beauty sometimes but when I do, I have no words. This is where words fail me.

Saying “Thank you” is lost on so many. It’s an immediate response for little things. And, like saying any word, it looses its meaning. Saying “I’m sorry” but continuing to do the same action that caused the apology makes the apology less than stellar and some what meaningless. Finally, “I love you”. This is probably the most underused phrase in my vocabulary. I use it sparingly because it’s meaning is so powerful to me. I grew up never hearing those words and will probably breath my last breathe without hearing that phrase pass some of my family’s lips and I’m ok with that. But because of that, when I do tell people it’s because I truly do.

So “thank you”. I could throw out this term to him to verbalize my appreciation of his actions but I believe in actions over words. I will offer my thanks in actions, just not sure how yet. The “I’m sorry” that he gives me after he’s upset me, this one is a bit strange. I know why he does and says things and I know that his ways are usually delivered with a sting but I am accepting of this. It’s going to upset me, maybe piss me off or even make me cry. That’s the hardest part for me. Never in my life has someone’s words affected me to the point that it’s made me cry. I’m sure there’s some BS that I could read about that basically says it’s the people that mean the most to you that have the capacity to hurt you the worst but his words aren’t intentionally laced with sharp blades it’s more about the fact that I let those blades cut me. He thinks I have thin skin, which is only true with him. I am an assertive control freak at work, in life, everywhere that he is not with me. But my guard is down with him. I don’t know why and I understand that is a role that he never applied for. His “I’m sorrys” are appreciated but I never want him to walk on egg shells around me, I don’t want him to change and I don’t ask that he be different with me. I think we’re both still learning how to be with each other though. It’s a process.

Lastly, the “I love you”. I’ve never verbally spoken these words to him. The times he’s said it can be counted on more than one hand but again, he’s a bit careless with that phrase. There are so many times when it’s on the tip of my tongue but I just can’t say it out loud. There’s also many times when I feel the need to just have him touch me. It’s as if he’s so close sitting next to me and all of a sudden, I see this image of me just reaching out and grabbing his hand or kissing his cheek and yet I sit still or just bundle up in my cocoon of safety and move a bit further away. Some days it’s excruciatingly painful to realize that I feel for this guy more than anyone before and sometimes I feel like those feelings are what keeps us from being 100 percent honest with each other. He’s afraid of hurting me and I’m afraid of making him uncomfortable. He’s afraid of giving me the wrong idea and I’m afraid he thinks I have the wrong idea. It seems that we’re both just two kids that are afraid of feeling too much or too little or of hurting or of losing.

I fear that one night on a bit too much to drink one of us will just spill what the other one is thinking or feeling then, like the tube of toothpaste test, we’d never get anything back inside. Maybe that would be a good thing. Some days I feel like we’re two emotionally stunted teenagers, that are dealing with adult situations and emotions. Some days it’s hard but other days it’s nice. Some days I like our bubble we share together and other days it feels like I’m suffocating between a life I want and the life I have. Some days I feel like his angel and other days I feel like he’s my savior. Right now, I’m not sure what I feel but I realize that when I have dated men I’ve never really written about them. When I was dating my ex, I just stopped writing here all together and I stopped talking about my relationships to my friends. My flaw is I shut down. I crawl inside my head and it takes the strength of a thousand men to pull me out.

I don’t always like that I’m so secretive. It’s never intentional and now my friends usually know they’ll get the “I don’t want to talk about it” answer when they ask about my life. I fear that I’d spill everything to him though, for some reason but he chooses not to ask. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t care or because he doesn’t want to know the answer. He doesn’t know about the ex, the proposal or the most of the other stuff. In fact, the only person who does know about that is our mutual friend and I’m still not sure what he said that got me to spill the secrets. I’ve been told on lots of occasions that I need to open myself up. He still knows two of the darkest secrets I have. I don’t know if he realizes that it took a lot for me to confide in him those things. Not sure he even remembers what those secrets were.

None of this matters though. I look around my home tonight and am happy because I know he’s been here but sad because I don’t know when he’ll be back. This is why I make sure all his stuff is gone when he leaves because I don’t like the reminders that I’d let him stay here forever if he needed or wanted to.

I’ve given in to my confused mind tonight and will drift off to sleep soon. Hope you’re having a great week so far. Sorry for the long post.

My Love Will Never Die By: Hozier

When words fail music speaks

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