Learning to Own it!

I have been reflecting more than usual. I am exiting a relationship that I don't want to end. Maybe appropriately God's way of letting me know I need to uncover more ways to improve myself. I feel numb. Things in life are close to surreal. Not the cool hippie surreal, but surreal with empty clarity. Loving and allowing myself to be loved is difficult for reasons I hope to discover and share here.  It's likely the insecurities I carry.  I'm considering which ones to share, but want to share all of them in some fashion.  I am finding more peace with every encountered flaw.  I am learning to ask for help. I am deepening my value for apologizing and being accountable.  I'm evaluating how I am a son, brother, father, friend, and especially lover.  I have so much ground to make up and so many areas to improve that I feel overwhelmed.  I have a good set of shortcomings to start with. I trust they'll lead to new ones, but I am excited that I am trying to find the process. So I've herd that in order to truly love another I must first love myself.  That inspired this poem and the new direction I am heading.  My failure to love in a healthy way has pinpointed where I need to start digging deeper.

Hey me, Love me!

When I call to you, of course after you've cried for me, I come.  Yes, I let you know I hear you and show you that I see you.  I move towards you.  So as I get closer I see your excitement and this makes me come harder.  Then what happens?

There is a line you have, I cross it and it makes your face change.  I call out to you again, reminding you that I am coming and will be with you soon.  This antagonizes you.  You begin to shift, your eyes start wondering, your cry turns into criticism, and your tears to sweat.  I lose my balance and bearing.  Then what happens?

You won't receive me.  I can see you have remembered your face in mine, and as I get closer you seem confused.  You look scared, like if I remind a part of you that I will end your desired suffering.  Your suffering has jealousy, and doesn't want any part of me.  I will not battle your suffering.  Then what happens?

Your suffering is operating machinery it is not capable of.  I have to sit and observe you're suffering hijack your intentions and drive you into obstacles.  Your suffering destroys itself, and this is what opens the hardness of your heart, the doorway to your spirit, my spirit.  The desire to suffer does not die easy, and the struggle to receive me, is eternal.  What happens next?

I learn to reach you with every crash your heart endures.  I seek you constantly finding vulnerabilities to seep through.  I am not infiltrating but fertilizing, healing, and cultivating the tissue around the damaged area, so it remains tender.  You don't receive, but I forgive you with triage, while your suffering celebrates the wreck.  What happens next?

You cry, I call, I come, and we start all over again.

- Ron Estrada