A walk NOT to remember.

First I would like to point out how much I wish I was the girl in this picture.

Such a dork, I know, but I am so visual when relating to my emotions that I must have a picture to go with my posts, must.

Be that as it may become a shock to you, my fellow readers(er) I am running from myself, once more.

I process more than the average PC and fight more than a gang-banger in LA. 

My emotional Habits were except-able when they didn't have as deep as consequences, so I need to rid myself of them and start a new.

I was clearing out my closet yesterday trying to make room for all the stowaway clothes I have from college and unsurprisingly realized I didn't have room them.

So what now? I already did my plato's sorting and I love my clothes prolly' more than my dog and I wasn't ready to budge, but as I was folding and trying to mold them into the crevasses I realized something.

Not only am I a clothes hoarder but I am a hurt hoarder. 

I have packed my heart full of hurt, some intentional, most unintentional. I have tried to hold on to every ounce of guilt, unforgivness, regret, and pain regarding my past and my mother.

Who would want to cradle such cramps for all there life right?

Well I find my identity in it. I have felt broken all of my adult life, and choosing to become "okay"with all this change, is dreadful because I would be accepting that life is okay without my mom, which it's not.

I know. 

I know I need to and to be honest I want to because with forgiveness comes freedom, and with freedom comes healing and my scabs are becoming scars from all this scratching, but dudes and dudets this is not a black and white party. 

My mom would want me to move on and live the life God has laid out for me, but I am not ready, at least thats how I feel. 

Since when was letting God relieve me from pain became an issue, beats me, but somewhere between learning how to walk and running from boys I lost trust.

When I think of connecting with God, my stomach twists and my heart closes.

What will it take, huh? 

I speak truth and listen to lies... How. did. I. Get. here?

I am sorry God, I know you left a voicemail, but your long distance.

-M