Past Experiences & Present Moments

Words come to me as I lay my head on my pillow. 
Her words I hear, whether spoke aloud or formed in my imagination. My heart aches for answers, as I have none for myself or for her. She is my motivation and the keeper of my tomorrow. Her dreams cause me to question.... 
Rest your head.
Breathe in. 
Pause. 
Think.
Breathe out... 
Repeat. 
Do I want to know my assumptions based on her thought process or her fears? 
I want to know. 
Need to know. 
As soon as I sort my past, her actions, and the memories burned into my skull, I will figure this out. 
It will save me.
But if not soon enough will it be in time to save her? 
What is the answer? 
Guilt? 
What causes a person to beat themselves up to a point that it causes mass destruction on the lives of others and what precautions could one take to shield a life they have so desperately  tried to avoid. 
Or... have they unknowingly created an assortment of past experiences merged with present moments? 

An Argument Within

hard life.
she created.
or was it selected for her?
was she directed down a path that would eventually spiral out of control?
spun by choice.
broken heart and moist eyes.
pointed fingers, 
you did this to yourself. 
self explained pity.
hard lines and aging where time has passed and emotions have paused.
where have i been? 
but love runs deep, 
deeper than lies, betrayal, and a broken family.
efforts were made and forgiveness erupted. 
smiles broke lose and time changed everything. 
slow healing. 
together. 
just as he would have wanted. 

present situations processing past encounters

We're fighting, I begin to lose focus of our present situation and very slowly I am swallowed up by my past encounters. I drift from his words, and the tears falling from my eyes - salty moist droplets trickle onto my freshly bitten nails, numbing my brain from the confusion. It's blurry but I found myself lying on my bedroom floor, my breath held tightly inside my chest, an effort to keep my cover. Hushed words are spit from the mouths of my father in attempt to keep us girls asleep, but it’s my mother’s sharply pained tone that widens my eyes, and holds me captive. Cigarette smoke rises slowly up the vents from our kitchen into my room, stinging my nostrils and making me nauseous. Desperately needing air, suddenly feeling overwhelmed clearly suffocated by their hate, and realizing I have never encountered two people who love each other to that degree. 

I thrust my ear deeper into the vent with a goal I must accomplish. I must establish which one is at fault. Who should I point my finger at? Who deserves my cold shoulder and who will I side with this go around? .........

…..."I am just so tired of it all Kelsi..." Snapping back I realize my focus had been derailed. The last half hour my thoughts have been lost in the past and its time I must face the present, come up with a solution and fix what we have before it’s lost. We play their game, and I am aware he is dying to know my thoughts as I stare at him blankly. Dying to know the words I scribble on the lines of this sheet of paper. Who is wrong? Who receives the blame this fight and bows their head with acceptance, as the other continues the verbal beating, both knowing it will resolve this tiring nightmare. 

My emotions boil slowly; I want to be friends as well as lovers. I can't bring myself to look at him. He is breathing slower and very deep. 

I ask myself what the hell even happened. Sitting here we are torn apart, beaten raw and consciously desiring each other’s embrace. I need him to apologize, want him to appreciate my efforts without reminder, and yet that is all he is seeking out as well….

Easier said than done. 

Observed.