Letters to Mabel

Start creating. Or start destroying. It's up to you.

mute.

M-

A great deal of the following summarizes my feelings thoughts and questions about my love life. The defining desire to connect muted by inability.

I’m scared. Scared to paralysis. Scared to be vulnerable and to let someone get to know me. Painfully shy, constantly worried I might say the wrong thing. What to say at any moment whether a new idea or simple response bottles under pressure inside my brain and is dammed up in there, trapped where it pools and nothing comes out of my mouth. I stare at the person that I am supposed to be conversing with and all I can think is, ‘Say something,’ and all I can do is stare at them with my mind working at a 1,000 paces per minute trying to come up with something good enough to say but it never seems able. The words do not come and the harder I push for them to come the less and less there seems anything left available to choose from and my lips may part as if I’m about to speak but all I do is smile and nod with not a word spoken and I can’t breath. My heart racing in my chest and all I want to do is get the hell out of where ever it is that I am.

What am I scared of? Being rejected. Being unloved. I’m scared about my future, I worry what will happen to me and who will love me and will anyone ever come along that cares for me, ever. Will I ever become a part of a team and be able to share these burdens and feel trust and knowing that we are in something, what’s left of this life, together.

My soul mate would be kind and loving and tender and patient. He is funny and we are light and together we laugh, and then we laugh more. He will want to hold my hand and offer his shoulder for me to lean my head upon and will want to pray with me for good things to come to those we love and those we do not know alike. We would wish for the betterment and well being and peace for all men and women and the animals and oceans and trees.

We will be tender with one another and above all truthful, even when it is difficult, especially when it is difficult. I will trust his love instinctually. He will trust my love too. Our union will be a white light of warmth that others will draw strength from and love by just being around us and not really even knowing why. They will be drawn to our strength and recognize it as good and whole and kind.  My soul mate is physically fit and likes to cook healthy flavorful food and experiment on Friday and Saturday nights. We share books and ideas of things we may never invent but wouldn’t it be cool if we did and it existed and we could pick it up from a store shelf and say, ‘We made this.’ Because everything that exists today was an idea once. It was once a picture in someone’s brain and they had the fruition and wherewithal to bring it to life. I want to bring things to life too, with you, good things, useful things that make people happy. I want to bring things to life with my partner, with my soul-mate, and we can feel happy and connected and peaceful in seeing our hard work come to life.

If I knew years ago that I would still be alone by this age, well, it’s a good thing I didn’t know, it’s a good thing no one told me. It would have probably killed me, the knowing of the loneliness that was waiting for me. The years without parents and children of my own.

I wonder how many of those years I have left ahead of me? Those lonely years, you know the ones – that beat you back again and again and tell you there’s something wrong with you and you’re not lovable and everyone else around you is happily sharing and connecting and you’re not despite wanting to so desperately; you’re not connecting because you do not deserve to connect with another human being. You know those feelings. They creep over you like black soot and can choke you if you let them.

It’s good you didn’t know how many years of being alone waited for you. It’s good you do not know now how many years of being alone wait for you still. It cannot last forever, can it?

But you, dear Soul Mate, out there somewhere, bumbling along and stopping for coffee and grocery shopping and perhaps going for a run or thinking about planning a ski trip. You out there beautiful soul mate, can you feel me longing for your hands and your heart to reach for me? Can you feel my own heart humbly opening for you to come home and stay. I pray for you every day. I pray for peace, for me, for my family. I pray for love. I pray for hope to stay in my life and let it be the primary filter thru which I see the world.

homeless too.

Today I saw what looked to be a homeless man being escorted out of the police station by a police officer in a dark uniform. The homeless man was very thin. He wore dirty dark jeans and a weathered gray t-shirt tucked beneath a leather belt tied tight around his waist. He walked behind the police officer with his shoulders slouched and long grey strands of his beard blowing in the wind.

I was on my way to work. A stack of white folders from last night’s committee meeting held neatly in my arms. The morning sun on this spring day felt warm and welcomed after a long winter. I wore my new Sam Edelman tan sandals and a bright green checkered ladies oxford from J.Crew. The oxford was fitted and I felt it looked flattering on my tall lean figure, perfectly wrinkled just so. My Ray Ban Aviators with the blue reflective lens blocked my eyes as I watched the homeless man follow the police officer out to the squad car. The police man opened the trunk to the car and pulled out a weathered grey back pack, an old yellow suitcase and a clear plastic bag of clothes. The homeless man nodded and strapped the back pack to his back picked up the suitcase and clear plastic bag and started walking down the sidewalk to where I was standing.

I straightened the stack of folders in my arms and pushed the ‘walk’ button two or three more times. I looked up at the ‘walk’ signal across the street waiting for it to turn from red to white. Finally it flashed white. I turned and looked once more at the homeless man heading down the street towards me and turned away again. I did not want him to think I was staring at him. Even though I was staring at him. A construction worker across the street was looking at me and I realized he had been watching me watch the homeless man the entire time.

I felt guilt.

I said a prayer that the homeless man was on his way to somewhere good. I asked God to show mercy and love upon him. I thought about how we are all one step away from homelessness too. For some of us it can come around more than once.

Please let me find a good home.

B.

Mothers

M-

She’s farther away then ever  now. I was so selfish back then, feeling annoyed when she called for the fifth and sixth and seventh time.

‘Your mother is on the phone… again.’ My housemate said. ‘Why does she have to call so early?’

I felt embarrassed and annoyed with my mother, and sad for her too. Oh the arrogance of youth. She just wanted to be close to her daughter who lived 2,000 miles away. I wanted nothing to do it. My selfishness, my arrogance, makes me angry. Regretful.

I recognize her loneliness now. In my own day to day. When she was the age I am now she was raising seven children with an absent husband. I was the youngest then at three. How did she do it? Who were her supports?  Her father having died when I was two, her mother a year later.

I see her differently now. We are the same age. Did she worry where she will end up, what will happen to her children? What will happen to her? How did she cope? Yes, me too, mom. Me too.

I miss you.

-B

Light Beams

Ice Cream Birthday Celebrations are Lovely.

When all your friends show up

Before you do

To surprise you

They get there early and order

Peanut Butter and Shaved Chocolate Pieces Swirl

And

Fudge and Oreo Mud Pie

And

Coffee Toffee Road Trip

And Vanilla and Cookie Dough Dream

And some get it in a waffle cone encrusted with fruit loops

And others prefer it in a plain dish, 2 scoops please

Some just want the traditional cone

What do you even call that?

With sprinkles

And then, You show up

You’re late because it’s your birthday and your best friend is driving

And he stalled for time to make sure everyone gets there before you

And you turn the corner of the street

On this cool spring night

And you see all those familiar faces

Your friends

Smiling back at you and they start singing Happy Birthday

And your heart swells

And you believe in the good of people

And you love your best friend even more for setting up the whole thing

If that’s even possible, to love him more

And you remember life is good

And you wonder how you grew to be so lucky

And you order Cookie Dough Crunch

Three scoops, in a waffle cone

With crumpled Oreos

And you smile

From the top of your head

Deep down

You smile to the very bottom of your soul, till Vanilla Light Beams come out your toes

Ice Cream Birthday Celebrations are Lovely.

not real

What you’re feeling isn’t real.

It’s just an emotion, rushing in

What you think you’re thinking.

That’s not real either.

Can’t possibly be.

It’s just a thought,

generated

by what you think you see.

What you might have heard.

That pang in your heart.

None of it is real.

You can’t possibly know what’s really happening, really.

No one does.

With a planet full of billions

upon billions

of other people

crashing around the way we do,

against one another.

In the deepest depths,

an infinity of thoughts and motives and reactions

You simply have no idea.

So take comfort in this.

Wrap it around you like a warm blanket

Your favorite blue blanket

And remember.

What you think you know and see and how you feel

Not possible to be what is.

Nothing is.

Look at it like just another wave

washing over you.

So sit tight.

Dig in.

Sit back.

There will be another.

Another wave crashing in.

Upon wave.

Be the rock on the shore.

Not the sand.

Do not get pulled out with each emotion.

But let it rinse over you.

and turn your face to the warmth of the sun.

The sun that warms your skin.

The sun that sits inside you.

Let it rinse over you too.

Warm light all upon you.

Feel it too.

Friday

Holy hell I’m lonely.
-B

Trying to remember

I’m trying to remember when it was
The last time I felt
Connected
My shoulder blades tighten
My stomach drops
I look up at the clock,
Here, try some calamari
No thank you
Here, put some on your plate
The click of a stainless steel fork and white ceramic plates, No thank you
It’s so delicious, don’t you think?
The clock won’t listen either
Can’t anyone hear me?
Doesn’t anyone see me?
Finger nails peel back from their beds
Here, try this

By now

You are farther away than ever, now

I was so sure we would one day, meet

But what did I know

Not much

Not much

My windshield wipers, can’t keep up

With the rain

With the rain today

I don’t want to go

But I have to go

But, I’m going

People are waiting

People who are, not you

I was so certain we would have met by now

But what did I know

Not much

Not much

Windshield wipers can’t keep up

It’s time, to go

warmth

Mabs-

Is it you sending the good vibes, the vibes of warmth and love? I feel something, something good. I feel like something good is on its way to me. It isn’t tangible yet it is warming my heart and raising my spirits. I dream of it at night yet I don’t remember what it is in the morning. My heart beats a little louder and my thoughts rise a little higher. It’s optimism that feels good on the skin and soft to the touch. It’s open fingers entwining and confident arms wrapping and the palm of a trusted hand resting on your shoulder. It’s soft ears listening and gentle eyes watching you with compassion and kindness and love and the smell of clean laundry and cut grass and sweat warmed from the sun and just coming in from outside to remind you that you’re home. It’s the look of something very familiar that you have not seen yet and the feeling you’ve been here before but it’s all so new and the smile you recognize having just finally met it for the first time.

I can feel these things shifting through space out there as they make their way here to me.

I miss you.

B.

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