the thank you dialogue

I want to tell you something, I want to tell you that I’m sorry, that I choked, that I couldn’t get it out. I feel like there’s something wrong with me sometimes, sometimes I know it, I want it, I feel it, but I can’t get it out, out of my mouth. 

Hey are you there? Are you listening?

I always am girl, 

Only if you choose to hear. 

Go to bed, 

It’ll rest easier tomorrow. 

I don’t think it’ll come out so hard if you lie down. 

I think that there’s a part of me that wants to be like you, have the skills that pull on my heart strings. The talent in your song, piano playing; the kindness that pours out of your mouth, every pore, hole, orifice in your body; the patience, encouragement, and pure fascination with raw nature. 

You’ve got the full package. 

The actual toolbox, 

Is packed to the brim, 

With everything you need, 

If you just listen. 

Ok I’ll try. 

I want to take the scarcity, the fear, the nervous, the anxious and put it all away, so that it has nothing to do with you anymore. So, you don’t have to deal with it, all the things that need fixing. When I don’t think I’m good enough, cool enough, anything enough, you look at me and just take it away. But now I realize that it’s because you remind me, with your words, of the power I hold. You allow for me to see it myself, create and hold that space for myself, validating me within me. 

Why does it feel so up and down, 

One day I’m there, 

One day I’m laying on my back afraid to live, 

But not wanting to die. 

What if it all goes wrong, 

What if I make the wrong choice, 

I can’t decide. 

Do you trust yourself? 

Trust that all of them make one, 

Trust that it’s all you and it’s all beautiful, 

And you can’t stop, 

So you have to live with it?

Thank you for standing in the shower, for steaming up the whole bathroom, just so you could see me cry. Thank you for letting me beg, beg for your love, even if I never said it out loud, even if you gave it to me regardless. Thank you for letting me follow my dreams, for holding space in this reality where everything falls through so much chaos, and always feels deeper and more complicated than simply being human.

Human. 

Human, 

What does that mean. 

Why are we out there?

Where did we come from?

How did I end up in this space, 

Thinking so hard, 

About what’s to come, 

About what’s to be. 

Why does it feel so hard to choose gratitude? Because it is the work, it is the conscious moment of pausing against the spiral, then choosing to celebrate. Saying thank you: not for validation, not for easing the insecure need to be seen, heard, or perceived as a good person, but solely because you can, because you care for who you are, for who we are, in this moment of truth, of pain, of self-inflicted torture. 

I’m a victim. 

A victim to myself, 

I feel embarrassed. 

Embarrassed of my own pain, 

My own loneliness, 

My want for support, 

My need for validation. 

Come on, 

Can you stop? 

Can you stop already, 

Get out of my head, 

And leave me alone. 

So many a time I choke on my words, I choke on the verbal vomit that wants to spill out, painfully aware not to take up too much space, pull the attention towards me. A scream, a cry at the edge of my throat, but I’m working on that now. The part where I express love and gratitude; gratitude to you for sticking around, through the tidal wave of exploring myself. 

I’m leaving you alone, 

I’m leaving you alone now, 

Because you asked for space, 

What do you need,

When you get to be alone, 

Alone in your own head, 

Alone in your own thoughts. 

What do you want when you are alone. 

I’m doing this so I can live out my dreams, take control of my full potential. So that I can grasp the reigns of my choke hold and loosen them up a bit: loosen them to speak my truth, to not hurt you by holding it in, by lying, and scaring myself in the process. Working with the anxious child that has been so suppressed by the logical mind, conditioned by past lives, past beings. The beings that knew how to act accordingly, to fit in, listen to the bigger man while simultaneously telling the desires that they were insignificant, stupid, unrealistic. 

I love you, 

When you’re one hundred miles an hour,

When you’re stuck on a park bench, 

And you can’t get up, 

When you watch the passerby’s, 

And you wonder what’s in there,

What’s in their head, 

And can’t be by yourself anymore. 

This dialogue, It's not your fault. But at the end, it is a choice, and the choice won't always feel easy.

So empower yourself, 

Empower that voice, 

In your head, 

When it’s gone, 

It hasn’t really left, 

It’s just tired, 

Asking for attention, 

And when you speak up, 

It’s you choosing to listen. 

When you listen, 

don’t get so mad, 

And when you leave me here, 

I hear you, 

And I see you, 

And I tell you that you’re safe, 

And you are brave,

And it’s not so scary. 

So thank you, thank you for being here, holding space: so that I can say thank you, and mean it. 

I feel you, 

Deep in my bones, 

Down through my jawline, 

Sliding up my chin, 

Into my mouth, 

And crawling forwards, 

Out of my mouth, 

Down the spiral staircase, 

Stepping out, 

Onto the grass, 

Into the little paradise, 

The little paradise, 

We call life, 

Get in tune with the other animals, 

The track you know to follow, 

Laid out for you, 

To nurture and to hold. 

So, you stand up, 

Look up at the stars, 

The blinding, 

Searing, 

Sun, 

And you give thanks.