Invisible

I put on my cloak of invisibility every morning with my clothes and my mascara.

You can't see me.

I wrap myself up in it with a little bit of hair gel and lip gloss.

You can't see me.

I am a stranger to my mother, my lover and my best friend.

They can't see me.

No one even looks beyond the surface.

Every day we brush up against the edges of people. We notice hair and clothes, eyes and smiles. But we can't see them. They have donned their cloak of invisibility, just as I have.

We don't look at people. We see them with our eyes but not with our hearts.

We don't listen to people. We hear their words with our ears but we can't hear their truth.

We live in a world of invisibility. We are unseen, unheard, unknown and unloved.

We are invisible and lonely.  We ache to connect deeply with someone who will see our soul. We long for someone to be still and quiet and listen to our truth.

We reach out. We test the waters. We try and try again. Each time we come up short, brushing the edges without diving deep. Touching the surface without connecting heart to heart.

Our deepest longing is to find the one with whom we can share our selves.

We are searching for intimacy.

We are lost, alone in the darkness of our soul, praying for someone to find us there.

The Train is a Coming

I can't see it yet but I can feel it out there.

The train is a coming.

It doesn't take long before I can feel the ground start to shake.

The train is a coming closer.

Soon I can see it in the distance and hear the far off whistle.

The warning.

Get off the tracks, get out of the way.

I've never been good at playing chicken with the train. I'm the sort that heeds the warning. I step back, move away, get out fast.

I've seen the damage and destruction the train can leave in its wake. I've seen the blood bath with my own eyes.

The only options, when the train is steaming, full speed ahead, straight at your life, is to get out fast or take the hit. And the hit will hurt. It will hurt bad. It will leave you broken and bloody. The wreckage will touch all aspects of your life.  It will take months and years to heal. You may never completely recover. 

The train is a coming.  I can see it clearly. I can feel the ground shaking under my feet. I can hear the rumble and smell the heat.

It's almost here.

You wanna play chicken.  You hold my hand and pull me up the embankment into the path. I fight with all I've got to get away from the tracks. I'd like to pull you with me. To safety.

The train is a coming and I've seen the damage it can do.

I want to run. I want to hide. I want to abandon you to your fate.

Save myself.

The train is a coming and I'm scared to the depths of my soul.

The ground shakes.  Hot black lava rocks start to roll. The whistle sounds, once and then again in desperation. Squealing brakes. The hot rush of air sucking the breath right out of me.  It makes my eyes water and lungs burn.

And then the horror.

Too Much?

I've heard it over and over again. I'm too needy. I crave attention. I'm too demanding. I'm insecure. 

Am I too needy? 

I want to be loved deeply.  I want to be seen, down to my soul. I want to be heard. I want to love with my  heart wide open. I want to sleep entwined with my lover.  I want to eat dinner together and have real conversations.

Am I asking too much?

I want to be the one he wants, when things go right and when things go wrong.

I want him to wake up in the night wanting me.

I want early morning sex and late night snuggles.

I want him to stroke my hair, to bring me flowers and to take out the trash.

I want it all. Am I asking too much?

I want to go on long drives to nowhere. I want him to hold my hand when we walk together. I want him to hold me close when I cry.

I want him to celebrate my triumphs and soothe my wounds. I want him to encourage my passions and forgive my failings.

Am I asking to much?

I am not needy. I am not insecure. I do not crave attention. I can do it all - all by myself. I am strong and capable.

I am enough, just as I am.

I do not ask anything of you, I offer the most precious gift. I offer my heart, my body, and space to walk beside me through this life.

What do you offer me?