Some people fish for compliments.
Not me. (I wouldn’t believe them anyway)
No, instead, I fish for conversations.
I word statements in odd, strategic ways with the hope that you’ll delve a little further.
Then again, please don’t. That’s a can of worms I cannot open.
But on third thought, I really need to open that can. I need to get those feelings out.
So, yes. Please follow up. Please ask a question!
You’ll probably need to repeat it. You’ll most definitely need to coax and coerce the words from my lips.
It might take more time than you have. You’ll probably need some food, sleep, or just a break. But just hang on another minute!
Please be patient and ask one last time.
I need to answer. I want to. The thoughts get bigger on the journey from my brain. My mouth becomes too small to spit them out.
I’ll get there, though. It might be through tears. The words and feelings might be ugly and embarrassing. But I will get there.
Help me get the words out. They are overwhelming and I want them gone!
Please, when I go fishin’, let me at least get a nibble.
My number nine post last week was full of my issues. My woe is me. My convoluted pleas for help. My whiney babbling.
I still cannot quite express how much this boob thing has affected my entire life, my entire sense of self… Maybe I’ll do a post about it someday. I wasn’t prepared for the upheaval and emotions, that’s for sure.
Anyway, my post… Sir read it. Sir reads ALL of my posts, of course. I think he felt like I blamed Him. I didn’t. I don’t. He has done everything in His power to help me heal, physically and emotionally. He is my
After reading, he responded, saying that he had been waiting for me to be ready for all those old friends. I thought I had made it fairly clear, but I suppose being direct is always a better approach (and one I have a very hard time with). Perhaps G.I. Joe got it right…
Toys and rope and impact and #4 and demands…and the coveted, unrelenting words and actions have filled my days and nights since.
It’s been fantastic.
It’s been much.
I’ve had a meltdown or two, some esteem issues or twenty, and more than a few questions and doubts. Sir never gives up, says He never will. I believe Him. Even when I cannot comprehend (which is probably more often than not), I try to remember that I really do believe in my heart, in my soul, that He loves me and will never give up.
He is true…to his word, to me…always.
Thank you, Sir.
Don’t you have eyes?!
Yes I do, they are beautiful…
[I don’t remember exactly what was said in between here…a what? from me. He said something about looking up at him…]
…they are in your head.
These are my eyes.
No, those are MY eyes. I own them.