baiwwnsn

[baiwwnsn]

If I wrote you a love letter, it would start out like a country song. I’d say you remind me of the moon, full of the light I need. I’d tell you that you are cool like the night, and you soothe me. That I need you to rest easy. To dream. I’d say the days with you are like long rides thru winding roads. That I can’t get there fast enough when I’m coming for you. I’d say you are brighter than the neon in our favorite place. That your smile warms my heart, like the fireplace we cuddle next to. That you take care of me in a way that is music to my heart. I want to wake up next to you. Everyday. Every day. How I want to be what you want, because that’s what I want. That I miss you when you’re not here, and will kiss you when you are. I’d say you are mine and I am yours then, now, forever. As long as I live. How real love never goes away. Never dies, even if I do. If I wrote you a love letter, I’d tell you all this.

[baiwwnsn]

When I woke this morning, it was then that I recognized I am so in love, when I felt not the tenderness of curiosity looking at you that I had with another individual before. It was now I realized, for the very first time I understood, that I was never sure about someone; until now.

[baiwwnsn]

“Dear You, Since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew I found something special. I wake every morning knowing that for the first time in my life, there is someone out there that cares about me as much as I care about them. Every single moment my brain is working to try and figure out how to make your day even better than the last because when you’re happy, my heart soars beyond the ends of the earth. You are my everything. Looking into your eyes, I find a piece of myself that I feel like I’ve been missing my entire life. I can honestly say that I have found my other half. Sincerely, Me”

A letter from my soul mate (9/19/17)

[baiwwnsn]

I’ll be his last

[baiwwnsn]

Hands fumbling underneath the blanket because God knows there is never a minute I can go without touching you I’ve begun to think loving you was a routine, that you were embedded in my everyday But I choose what I do everyday I choose to love you I resist to tell you every waking moment that I admire all of you I restrict to scream at the top of my lungs that I love you Because, nothing I do, will do. 500 words on a page, won’t do. I love you, it’s more than that. Touching you, Feeling you Tracing you When we’re one together            It’s the closest taste I have to how I feel for you       For how I need you               For how you make me feel                      For how I.   Love.  You. Loving you is more than anything I see, say or think of. Loving you is indescribable, a fulfilment The best choice I ever did make    Wrapped up with you, Unbearably resisting the taste of your kiss Unconsciously, yet passionately; senselessly, yet captivating making love with you The closest thing that describes   Feeling your heavy breath down the back of                  my neck       Thrusting             Moaning                 Scratching                        Biting                          Silent noise You help me lose my mind, you piece me together, you hold me with care, kiss me with pride, inspire me with passion You teach me You keep me grounded You love me intentionally; unconditionally; passionately; irresistibly. You, alone, yourself. You are love to me. You have taught me love And to touch you, because God knows there is never a minute I want to go without touching you Feeling you is electrifying                   It’s imperative

How your love lights me up 

January 2019

[baiwwnsn]

I think everyone deserves a chance to start anew, no matter who they are, and what they do. Everyone deserves the opportunity to relive their life in a different state, to find comfort in oneself, for oneself. Living in fear will accomplish nothing, living in patience will only slow the growing of your mind. To live in patience is my fear. Life isn’t about waiting for things to happen. Nothing magically shows up at your doorstep. Something to be cherished will never drop at your feet. I feel covered by the night sky; a great dark blanket. I listen to the murmur from the sea, as it speaks back to me. I see the past in a clear days sky, it’s finger tips slip my shirt as I surge forward. A perspective is needed, a culture within oneself to keep a momentum. Until you begin to see an outcome of your authenticity, you will then begin to witness a peripheral of what you had been missing before. Don’t await a compliment, go ahead and celebrate yourself. For one to change, isn’t for one to transform - yet, to grow.

July 9th, 2018

[baiwwnsn]

honestly I think it’s really sweet that you think so much of me, but once you fuck me you won’t talk to me the way you do now. Because i won’t be as shiny, so don’t sugar coat it. Don’t talk me up, I know how pretty I look untouched

untouchable

[baiwwnsn]

The turmoil of life led me down many hard paths from which I never fully recovered, until I found God. I was ending up in the wrong places, at the wrong times. I was searching for a solution to escape the resentment within me. I had not been faithful to what was in my heart, I felt lost. I knew I was missing something - I just couldn’t figure out what it was. When I was ten years old, I began reading the book The Shack, an engulfing story of one man’s experience with God after the terrifying and gruesome death of his youngest daughter, at the hands of a child serial killer. The story seeks to answer many questions respecting God and his existence. Questions I frequently asked myself: where is God in a world so full of tragedy, hate and disgust? Does my God, the one I call on, use pain and misfortune to change other people? The Father, Mack, experiences three different forms of God - The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit: The Holy Trinity. The personified higher powers forgo to change and shape Mack into a person who no longer carries “the great sadness” in his life, but has a better understanding of God and his own personal relationship with him. Discovering that not all people may share the experience or faith the way that the author portrays it, I allowed William P. Young’s words to open a new perspective. That god will never give you more than you can truly handle. I grew up in a catholic community: however, I didn’t find God until I was fifteen years old. In my early years of life, I remained structured in abiding to all 10 commandments and output a joyful energy, which flourished to those around me. Being a very active, fun, loving young girl - I could never think of anything worse than death. Losing someone I loved, to which was horrifying. In a similar difference, I experienced a death inside me, that shook me to loose my faith, my warmth, a constant love. When I was just seven years old, I was sexually assaulted by a camp councillor. Surrounded by a religious atmosphere, I was left confused as to why God did this to me. Holding myself responsible for an others cruel actions, I began to close myself off. Integrating a large competitive edge and grit, I channelled my anger, my embarrassment into sport. With that being said, my anger often spilled out of it’s container - into my everyday actions and life. The principals office often called home to my parents in my Elementary years, and I often faked sick on the days I didn’t want to face my actions. Teachers and instructors suggested seeing Doctors, as I “clearly” had something wrong with me. My resentment for the world grew rapidly. I lost a few family members in the following years, leaving me with more upset than ever. I was suspended, which urged my parents to switch schools. Landing in a new environment, a new world - I felt accustomed to start over. With small hiccups here and there, I found a balance for my emotions. In Grade six, I loved life more than ever. I adored my teachers, my friends and all activities I participated in. The D.A.R.E program was mandatory, which touched on drugs, alcohol, safety and what is now common sense to the majority of the teenage population. Within one session, the officer presenting spoke to the topic of ‘Stranger Danger’ and inappropriate encounters. It wasn’t until that very day, that classroom session to know that I had been sexually assaulted. I felt gross, dirty, unwanted. Questions and words spiralled in my head, all that I had forced myself to be forgotten, rushed back: Why did God do this to me, why me, what is wrong with me, my life is over, I want to die, help, I need help, I want help, help. I shut off that day, I hardly remember the rest of the day, my understanding was bleak. I began to worry that if I was to speak up, I would be in trouble. The following week I confided in the school priest to keep my secret. Feeling ten suitcases lighter, it was as if I had no baggage. Yet, I couldn’t forgive my abuser, or God - and how I did, took me longer than I ever did expect. I was fourteen and an accomplished young athlete, with much to look forward to - I found myself treading into the ocean in front of my house, in a full snow suit, mid March. Shoulder level in the water, a seal sprung to the surface, arms reach in front of me, scared and surprised I began to panic, as it remained still and starring at me. For a long ten seconds, I gazed at the animal, engulfed in the incredible encounter. In hopes to take my life, at least I think thats what I was hoping to succumbs, the seal reminded me, and God stopped me. Months after, at fifteen years old, I addressed the elephant in my room to my family, loved ones and friends. Sitting in the house where I hadn’t felt at home for so long, felt comfortable again. I was no longer running from myself, a fear, my past. A road of trust and vulnerability, I confided in God. The Shack was a great inspiration to me because it reminded me again about the amazing power of forgiveness to set our lives free. It also reflected the love of Jesus and God in new ways that help me embrace others around me with the gentle, unconditional love modelled by Christ. Having experienced great loss like The Shack’s main character Mack, yet within myself, I recanted the key strength to walk along others who are also facing the challenges of letting go, grieving, and pushing through an obstacle. I used a few tissues while I was reading. I am not embarrassed to shed a few tears that actually make me feel better when I re-visit past losses evoked by a powerful story. The subtitle of ‘The Shack’ reads “where tragedy confronts eternity.” Forgiveness is key to spiritual growth, reminding me of the incredible power of forgiveness. When Mack finally forgives his Father and his daughters killer, he becomes a full person who can finally pursue a deep relationship with God. Forgiveness is what God intends for us, as God loves each of his children equally. He loves us when we do the right thing, he loves us when we make mistakes, and he loves us when we hurt others. Our transgressions will never alter God’s love, even if our wrongdoings are horrific. In a time where God never seems to directly communicate with us, I feel that this novel was as close to direct communication as one could get, as close as I got to at a dark time. Did God personally write these words? Did they come straight from Scripture? No. But the perfect truth in Young’s words could truly only come from God working through him. God worked through Jesus and worked miracles, God worked within me and created a miracle. I have confronted many lessons upon my road, some the hard way, a few the easy way and most I am yet to encounter. The words I return to, the moral I live by has helped me get through a bad hair day, and also - my assault: That everything happens for a reason. Everything that happens, happens for you - not to you. A difficulty, a loss, a sadness is part of your story, with reason that could remain unknown forever, but to trust in God is the greatest comfort of all.

Finding myself, In the Lord My Saviour

[baiwwnsn]

When you are alive enough, you experience intimacy in a thousand places. The world is nothing if not creative. And I am nothing if not touchable, if not malleable by nature. When you are alive enough, everything makes an impression–especially colour, laughter, running water, the voice of someone you like. There is a tenderness so plenty you could never waste it. I savour the things I haven’t tasted. When you are alive enough, you are easily bruised by sweetness. I dare to be the mosaic life makes of me. I dare to be soft enough to withstand a thousand loves.

To you

[baiwwnsn]

Some of the most vivid memories and significant season’s I think about, are the different boyfriends I had and the boys I shared time with, and the time we spent together. Welcoming Nolan, Felt new. I couldn’t quite figure out what the hell I was doing or how I was supposed to do it. I was naive, kind of dumb too. However, he gave more than I gave him. I was selfish and did what I’ve always done - what’s best for me. I was certainly convinced that no matter what kind of storm I caused, he’d want to stand in the eye of my hurricane. Uh, I, myself, wouldn’t even want to. I lost something, yet gained another. In exchange for my first ever “heartbreak”. I learnt how to overcome an obstacle in a relationship, big or small. I learnt how to forgive, others and myself. I learnt that after a storm, it’s quiet. I learnt that causing your own storm, only ever comes back to rain on you. Season’s changing. Having been younger, I chuckle at what we once shared - it makes me smile, he makes me smile - as I once thought my first boyfriend was the biggest deal since sliced bread. He taught me a friendship in a partner, and that the compatibility of two people doesn’t matter. Theres plenty of fish in the sea. Forgiving Tim, Took me two years. He made me I understand the iciness of not feeling good enough for somebody. I remember introducing him to my Dad, and boy, my Dad was not having it. Now, I don’t blame him. I felt robbed to an extent, somewhat diminished. Constantly taken advantage of and walked over, I remained as his door mat. Come and go as you wish. Sneaking out and getting myself involved with the wrong people, ending up in the wrong places at the wrong times. The furthest thing from myself, is what I offered to him. I wasn’t ever much to him, until he wasn’t anything to me at all. I reflect on how I allowed myself to succumb to that certain level of self respect and confidence, a season of shivers and shallowness. I used to contemplate on whether or not he truly ever taught me any valuable lessons on love. ONE. Taught me one. Love yourself. If you don’t love yourself first, nobody else will. The way you carry yourself, is how others will admire you. I can’t seem to say that I’m grateful for constantly being cheated on, having relations when I didn’t want to, and allowing someone else’s insecurities to become my own. But, I say I am grateful, as I now know to never change for another again. I will never put someone else before me, if they wouldn’t do the same for me. I am not a fucking second choice. There was Anthony. When I think about this season of my life, I think about road trips, driving up to his cousins place. Always doing something. I loved driving with him - I sat shotgun and sang my heart out as he’d unforgivingly insult my singing and laugh with, and at me. Every time he would come to pick me up, I could never drag him away from chatting my mom’s ear off. I adored that about him though, he blossomed in conversation with anyone he encountered. He had a good head on his shoulders, his Mother did well. I loved his Mom. I loved his entire family, as I did my very own. They humbled me in a way, I felt comfortable in their home, they always made me feel at home. I loved our life together. Spontaneous Sunday trips, new restaurants, new places, something new. It was an entire adventure in whole. We went away for Christmas together, Disneyland, surfing. Future plans and trips seemed to become dreams we’d pitched together. It was pure romance, the type you’d always hope it to be. A candles, cuddling and a rolled one kinda comfortable. When I think about that phase of life that we were together, I think about breakfast. I made him Hazelnut French Toast often, and I’m pretty sure he thought it was terrible, yet ate it anyways. Although we were very much or own people, we meshed together, strangely but so easily. My dreams weren’t his however. Wanting my first love to be my last, I clang to the hope of ‘near or far’. We were different worlds, having being almost five years younger, I felt distant to him in ways. I can’t recall how many episodes I had, getting angry at him for drinking too much or him throwing my bullshit right back into my face ; but I couldn’t imagine anyone else replacing him. I felt God damn married. Apologies for using the Lord’s name in vein. It became routinized. I was too comfortable, and although I loved him so deeply, I craved something more than easy love - I wanted something to work for - and maybe I’ll regret not appreciating the warmth he did give me one day. I look back and can see where I could’ve worked on myself. In segments, and large portions. I could have limited myself in the tears department also. I cried for three weeks straight, well, I cried at least once a day for twenty one days after we broke up. I found myself struggling to get out of bed, crying at practice, eating nothing. I admit, maybe I drowned myself in my own sadness - yet, I knew of no resources to get over it. The way we parted still stings a bit today, although everything happens for a reason - I wish that reason still could make a little more sense to me. Forgiving actions and words, neither of us two dealt with our situation in the most appropriate way. In fact, I lost myself. They must come to an end eventually, but I do believe that even the hardest relationships leave a ray of sun. In Titus. I found myself. Yet, at first; I was scared, somehow very uncertain too. Coming out of a long term relationship, my vulnerability had thickened and I was convinced that it wouldn’t truly turn into anything. He proved me wrong. After awhile, and his awaited patience - I fell in love; with Tanner, him and I as one, and myself. It was light, and cheerful. Constantly goofing off and laughing at little things - he made me giddy. His smile, always undeniable - I could never not smile back. He drew everything I lacked in myself, out of me. I found myself appreciating life more often, and taking the time everyday to make myself and someone else - feel appreciated. When I relapse to this season I think about Winter, the childishness we brought out of one another similar to a snowball fight, and the colder feelings that we hid from each other, getting hit with multiple snowballs at once. We often felt each other pulling away, and one would have to give on our rope a bit more, or pull our link to bring each other back. Our game of tug war. I’ll always love Tanner, but to say I loved all of him would be incomplete - as I never truly knew all of his deeper and darker corners. Nor did he know all of mine. We remained with few doors shut on each other; my reasoning was as I wasn’t ready to let someone open the doors that I hadn’t even begun turning the knobs on yet. I wanted it to work, it seemed so perfect to me. He caught me by surprise from the get go, I played it up to be the sorta ‘ it was when I was really not expecting it’ kinda thing. We gave each other so many things, yet we walked on eggshells with each other. Falling for one another so quickly, we never really stood our ground and set our boundaries. We were constantly crashing into one another, and thinking we’d fixed all our problems by fucking each others brains out. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but that’s one thing we were getting right. Tanner was a gift to me, a present inside a present inside a present. He always kept surprising me, keeping me on my toes. It was the first time in my life that I had ever wanted to give someone the world - I just didn’t know how. I constantly felt protected and admired. Like I belonged to someone, a passion truly irresistible. With T, I had never been more curious about the world, and what I could truly do in my life. I frequently dipped my mind in different waters. The season where we started to fight more than usual. Nothing was going according to plan. I thought I had my entire life planned out, but things were spiralling out of our control. Timing was so off and we didn’t know what to do. He picked up his things and walked to the outside of my gate, still feeling us gripping to one another as if it maybe wasn’t a good idea to part ways - I stumbled inside and fell to the ground. Walking back outside minutes later and seeing him still in his car - head on his steering wheel, crying. Good things fall apart so better things can come together, for new things to inspire - and in our case, we needed to inspire ourselves, on our own. Now, not either of us are holding either ends of our rope. One day, maybe I’ll have the pleasure of being ‘his’ again. As I would be lucky to share those moments of wonder, humour, passion and curiosity with no other. “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were.”  Richard Bach.   When a season of life ends  - specifically with a boyfriend - it’s usually harder than any other season you will live. Because those are the ones you really don’t get back. It’s different than graduating from high school, or moving away from home. You don’t get to revisit your old relationships like you can by going back home, or a 10 year reunion. You don’t get to stay best friends with your exes like you can with a friend from grade school. You say goodbye to your routine, your favourite places, your favourite songs. You say goodbye to their family, their cats and dogs, their living rooms, their bed’s. You say goodbye to who you were as a person when you were together - because you’ll never be the same version of yourself again. There’s a lot of goodbye’s including obviously, the person you loved. And wow, is it painful. Because when it’s over - it’s really over. It ends. It ends. It always does. It wont ever be that kind of same. Coming back to Kace every time, Having lived through countless seasons together. He’s been a starring role in more “seasons” than anyone else in my life. Like a tv show run. The season when I get a boyfriend and tried to forget about him. The season when I cried every night because I couldn’t. The season where I almost allowed myself to go after him, yet I was always too scared of the outcome. The season of what if’s. The season when we waited a year and a half to love on each other. The season of I wish I would've. The season of I wish I would’ve let you hold me a little longer. The season of you telling me to stop worrying all the time. The season where I was happy, living an entirely separate life from him - for an entire year. But deep down I missed him every single day. And then, the season where we hadn’t seen each other in a year but, coincidently ended up in the same place. Visiting, and I can still feel the feeling that only you can get me in. Opening my door to such a familiar face in a new place. Laughed, and bothered each other - melting into each other like no time had passed. I was begging time to stop. Then there was the season where he turned cold and refused to talk to me, in his defence, I was always with someone, it was just never him. There was the time when I told him I loved him and he didn’t, maybe couldn’t, say it back. There was the season when things were so good, it felt like the universe was just begging us to be together, but I ignored it. Seasons of him being that constant motivator, friend, support system and secret lover. Seasons of him questioning me, as he had every right to. From pep talks to holding me on a bathroom floor. Seasons may change, but you stay constant in a way. Maybe one day I won’t ignore it, or maybe I’ll never accept it, as I just don’t want this to end, too. They say nothing truly great can stay in one’s life, although we all have an expiry date - I don’t think that’s true. It is a constant to be saying goodbye to phases of your life. Those moments will fade, but with that brings a new season right to your doorstep. It is true that it ends. But I think that if you are always aware of life as it’s happening, if you’re always fully present in the now… something great will always stay.

Seasons