a love letter to my anger

and an angry love letter

I’m doing this thing where I just write, and then share, and then let it be, and let everything else rest.

it’s how I want to be, it’s how I want to live, it’s how I want to love.

maybe I can just keep going.

I want to be better than I am. that’s the first thing.

and I wonder where that comes from; I wonder what that means; I wonder what that entails.

I wonder what it would be like to not be hungry.

sky

I want to write more unapologetically than I do.

I want to write & write & write and share & share & share and just not care about anything else.

I want to be more okay with my imperfections & idiosyncrasies than I am.
I want to be more okay with myself.

—

I know a lot of enneagram 7s.

I understand what it’s like to be restless, to be hungry, to be wanting, to be wandering.

I often don’t know where I fit with all of this. I feel like I’m everything & nothing.

I want to write in a way that feels good for my soul.

—

I carry so much shame. I carry so much grief.

sometimes I’m not sure what’s mine & what’s anybody (or everybody) else’s. sometimes I just let it take me.

there’s a strange romance to that. eros. a spark where non-resistance meets play.

I am changed when I stop trying to change reality. and, I am deeply met along the way.

—

I’m angry with ____ for not loving me.
I’m angry with ____ for not caring for me.
I’m angry with ____ for not choosing me.

I’m angry with ____ for being unavailable for me.
I’m angry with ____ for not seeing me.
I’m angry with myself for my stupidity.

I’m angry with myself for exactly the same reasons.

—

I wonder what it would be like not to be angry.

I wonder what it would be like not to repress my anger.
I wonder what it would be like to feel safe with my anger.

I wonder what it would be like to feel welcomed in it. to be loved, appreciated & adored all the more for it.

to honour it; to honour myself; to have it be honoured; to be truly honoured by another (or others).

I don’t know what that’s like yet. it all feels very vulnerable.

—

I want to write in a way that leaves no stone unturned.

I want to write in a way that captures the imagination as well as the heart. I want to write in a way that is compelling, real, beautiful & bloodthirsty. I want to claim myself as a writer again .

I want to come full-circle with new eyes & power.

—

I want to feel safe with my anger.

I want it to be understood.
I want to understand it better.

I want to befriend it, make love to it, tend to it.

I want to be my anger’s greatest lover & best friend.
I want to fiercely defend it. I want to be willing to die for it.

I want to be willing to love myself in the ways I’ve always wanted to be loved. then, I want to do it.

—

I am so sad & so angry all at once, and it’s all mixed up, and it feels so big, and all I can do is feel it.

so, I’m feeling it: it’s here.

and as I feel it, I feel my heart.

I feel my big, beautiful heart. I feel my love. I feel all the ways I’ve been hurt. I feel all the ways I keep on going (and have kept going) despite that. I feel my will, my drive, and my relentlessness. and I see who & how I am; I see what makes me, me; I see my beauty, and I am filled with wonder.

so much wonder. so much awe. so much peace.

and the tears gently trickle down my cheeks, and it feels like home.