My Life is a Battle, This War is My Love

I fight with myself constantly. Fight against my instincts to inflict anger, to beg for forgiveness, to demand to be heard. I fight to keep silent, I fight to keep from doing things I will regret.

I still fail, I still make mistakes. My life isn’t a perfect picture, it never will be. I have base instincts, human flaws, lapses in judgement.

I am trying to decide how this all goes down. I have taken January for myself to work out my own shit. To plow through my anger, and my loss. I’m working out. Using Kettlebells, learning to twirl a staff, learning how to base acrobatics, learning yoga. These things make me happy. They feel good, they hurt, they make me stronger.

I’m constantly in warfare for my heart. I’m looking very deeply at moving on. It seemed that nobody could love me for quite a while. Now when I see it’s possibility over the horizon, I turn to see if I can love myself. I can’t, not yet. I’m still ashamed, and I still haven’t let go of everything.

I think when January ends, I will request a face to face, see Carrie, see the dogs. It will hurt and it will be scary. I need one encounter to say things right. I need to say “I’m Sorry” and mean it with no reservations. I need to say “I Love You” with no sense of bitter irony. I’m past the point of begging for my life back, for trying to regain what I’ve lost. It’s important for me to let go, and to move forward. If I start to love someone else, I need to be able to say that I left my last relationship in a clean and mature way. That after all the wrong, that I did things right.

It’s moved beyond something to do for us, and something I just need to do for myself. Face my fears, face my anger, and survive it. I’ve lost the battle, but I hope to win the war. The war with myself and my failure and my sadness.

Then I can look forward and mean it. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but how I do it is just as important as doing it at all.

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