I was wrong.

The words that I avoided saying all my life have become common themes. I used to feel too exposed to tell people that I love them. It's still hard, but I do it often. I used to think that the only love that really qualified for verbal expression were family and romantic. Everything else was considered just friendship or lesser association. After finding so much comfort in friendship and so little from family and romance during the brief time I've spent in this body and mind, the realization of the depth and variety of love was not really a dramatic "ah ha". It was more of a "duh". I have a fairly large group of friends that I truly love. The passage of time and differences in spirituality, priorities, lifestyle or whatever the world throws in between us don't affect how I feel. In fact, a friend to whom I have given my love will still have it despite betrayal. I can love them from a distance. They don't have to love me back.

Since being separated from my thirteen year buoy, the job that figuratively and perhaps literally saved my life, I've failed and fallen on my ass really really hard and ugly. I was heartbroken and desperate to feel security. I didn't find it. I clawed and scratched my way to nothing. I was very angry about that. I took a lover and abused him. I gave just enough of myself to keep him around and denied anything he asked. When he presented me with an ultimatum, I told him (in not so many words) that there was a whole world of women out there who would be willing to respond to his requests. I was wearing my armor, so either he wanted to battle or he was of no use to me. I was incapable of removing it. There was no discussion. When he returned to withdraw his ultimatum a few weeks later, I turned him away. That was probably the most merciful thing I could do. I didn't let anyone in close enough to love me. It's not that I felt undeserving. I was tired of being hurt. I am tired of it. I've had a life full of unreciprocated unconditional love. The wellspring is tapped. At least that's what I thought.

I walked around feeling down and awful. I wondered why everything had to be such a struggle. I thought every easy acquisition was some sort of trick. I believed, during this entire transition, that I was being crushed, broken down to the barest foundation so that I could rebuild. I  release you, sob story. You were a lie. All this time I thought that I was clinging to my sanity, but it was the armor that I exhausted myself trying to clutch. Now, I am naked. It's uncomfortable. I feel too exposed. I feel a bit embarrassed by how exposed I am. I want to cover myself up, but I know that the effort is useless. I don't have to fight anymore. Good, because I don't want to. I have no expectations. I have no plan. I have no goals. I have no direction. I have no focus. I have no motivation. None of those things served me. I release them all. I release them and accept the one thing I am certain that I do have - this moment. Maybe it can be enough.