Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I'm so heavy, heavy in your arms.

I was a heavy heart to carry // My feet dragged across the ground // My love has concrete feet // My love is an iron bar // Wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall // I'm so heavy, heavy, heavy in your arms

I've felt like this so many times over the past nine months. I've never had to admit the deepest parts of me the way I have with Mike. For the first time, he holds me accountable for my anger, for my hurt; he asks and expects me to answer. He expects me to hold him accountable, and he notices when I am not myself.

I have this thing with ex-girlfriends. Meg and I used to jokingly sing, All my exes live in California, because as the story has gone before, they've moved out there to be with their significant exes. It's not a particularly fresh story or complaint, but it has been my experience. And being the sensitive, prone-to-tears at the slightest change of emotional temperature person that I am, it has colored my experiences with Mike. In the light of day, with puffy eyes, I come to the realization (again and again) that I am among the luckiest to be learning these lessons about myself and relationships with such a good man. He is gentle and patient, and I am learning to be articulate and calm and patient, with others as well as with myself.

I am prone to tears in moments of great emotion, and I am learning to stop apologizing.

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