I have this house. This house that I come home to each night. It is mine. It is home. When I am out with my friends I make sure to not drink so I can go home to my house. My room, my bed. My friends have beautiful homes with beautiful guest rooms. But I choose to go home to my house each night. My house sits on the shore of the river. A full river. Full enough for boats, jet skis, and anything else you may want to float. I see paddle boarders out there, fisherman, canoers, and even kayakers on a regular basis. During the summer the water is full of people getting tanned, playing loud music and flipping on the wake. During the Fall, they are still out there but not as much. As the temperature begins to drop, the night falls earlier, and we are stacking wood in our fireplaces and not our fire pits, the water starts to calm. Settle. If you sit outside on the deck and close your eyes you can hear the movement of the water, the fish, the birds and everything that makes up the water life of nature, just outside my door.
Tonight I came home to my house. I opened my garage door deaf to the music on the radio in my car. I had a full bladder and tears begging to come out. I entered my house, took off my boots, dress and the skin I wore the entire day. I put on sweats and a t shirt, crawled onto my couch and let it all pour down my cheeks and land where they needed to. I let my body lay back onto my over stuffed gray couch while I pulled up my brown, warm, fuzzy blanket to my neck and crawled into myself. I crawled into myself so deep I didn’t know how to get out or even if I wanted to at all. After a while of crying and questioning everything, I got up. I milled around my house in my sweats and got some water. As I poured my cup full, I noticed the moon hanging just outside my window. Large, high, orange ish and expecting nothing. I went outside on my deck in the darkness. I sat looking at the moon and its reflection against the water. The water still, yet moving rapidly the way it can do was calming. The reflection settled me. It was cold. The wind was blowing. Blowing gently, but enough to move my hanging lights against the window reminding me winter is near.
The past few days have been tough for me. Me, an old soul, an open book, exposed nerve, care giver and feeler of everything. It’s a blessing and a curse to feel everything. I feel and I can write, but I feel and I hurt. I hurt deeply when I am hurt. I love deeply when I love. I suffer greatly when I suffer. I laugh whole heartedly when I laugh. I feel to much. I love too hard. But I am who I am. I am not for everyone. But I do deserve respect. I do deserve to be told the truth. I feel everyone does. I can understand not wanting to hurt someones feelings. I can understand trying to protect someone, or maybe even protecting yourself. But it is wrong. Just wrong. I have been on the receiving end of lies too many times.
When a woman is hurt it changes her. It changes her in a way where she will never be the same person again. She may look the same. Her laugh may be the same. But she is forever changed. She can’t trust as easily as she once has. She can’t be honest and open her heart the same way. She can’t be vulnerable. She can’t be herself. When a woman is hurt, she sinks in. She hides. She changes. Pieces of her beauty, charm, wit, and sense of self, fall apart. She leaves these pieces in a trail away from who hurt her. She learns to walk alone.
You may think a lie is just a lie, but a lie is never just a lie. It’s the trigger of a gun. The match to a fuse. The push off a cliff. It destroys and damages. Before you set out for your own selfish needs, think. Think before you lie and damage someone who is beautiful from the inside out and who does not deserve to be treated that way. If you have to lie to someone, maybe you are not worthy of having them in your life.
At the end of the day I am happy with who I am. I am learning. I am living. I am sitting on my deck and I am in good company with the moon.