�Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici� It means, �By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.�
Imagine you have an unopened puzzle box. You see the picture of it�s contents pieced together and pristine on the outside. A beautiful picture; the product of what's within. You open the box excitedly, only to find there�s one thousand pieces not yet put together. A mess of things that don�t make sense yet. You begin to pull pieces out, looking for corners and edges to start from, but you come to realize all the pieces look the same. Worse yet, they look the same and none of them fit together. This puzzle, it�s trying to tell a story. There�s something to be learned here, something I need to understand, but nothing matches up.
�Miserable is that state of slavery in which the law is unknown or uncertain.� Something has been wrong with me these latter days. My mind, usually a steady and intricate flow, has become flooded with unexplained thoughts I can�t seem to organize.
What's wrong has to do with the hunter. It has to do with the deceiver. It has to do with the times I was hit for no good reason, the times I was lied to, cheated, left a fool and it has to do with the the many men I've met who see me merely as a mark they want to add to their personal scoreboard.
I spent some time tonight looking at a long scar on my leg. It was left there 13 years ago from a belt my mother used on me. It�s so unbelievably faint, but it�s still there. A part of my history.
I�m a lucky girl. I'm lucky to have the gift of perception. Truth is, if I was any less perceptive than what I am, I�d be a different character. I'm sure of this. If I missed even one heartache or bruise, I�d be less of a person than I am now. I�m lucky to have had the hardships I did. Strangely enough, every time I've laid my head down in defeat it's then that I've been given a little rope. It's funny how that works.
"I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence." I think safety like this can be found in everyone�s lives. One just simply has to look for the hand reaching down. In my life that hand has been disguised before. It�s also come out of nowhere. Quite literally not showing up until the very last moment.
I was driving North to my sister�s home in Michigan. I was at the end of my rope. As I was driving, I watched the tress along the edge of the highway, wondering things like how many of them I could dodge before I hit one. I'll be the first to say that's not healthy. I then started passing though a town called Findlay. I knew of someone who lived there. We'd never really spoken, but I had his number. He used to live with my deceiver and they knew each other fairly well. As I drove down the interstate, through his city, I sent him a message that said, �Thought of you. That is all.� I sent this message expecting no reply, but it was this someone�s hand which ended up being the one to pull me from my stupor. This hand belonged to someone who took me out of my personal hell and gave me a home. He accepted me and loved me unconditionally. He showed me I could be treated well without having to fight for the respect I'm given. He protected me from myself as often as I let him and most importantly, he was a friend to me, holding me up at a time when I couldn't stand on my own. This hand was the one that led me to my hunter.
Hunter. I�ve lived such a life. I have no regrets and some of the best parts were the hardest lessons. The sweetest and most beautiful, I feel, are still beginning. Despite the distance and the conflict I sometimes feel about us, I can still relax knowing, hoping, the worst is over. What we have is rare and beautiful. Do you understand what I�m saying when I tell you I don�t deserve it? What's between us doesn't make sense to me. It doesn�t match the rest of my story up to this point.
How is it that you want me, I want you and we�re both wiling to fight for each other until we win or there�s nothing left. It's too good to be true. How is it that all you have to offer is all I�ve ever wanted and you�re waiting to see if once enough time passes I have a place for you in my life. What I�m trying to say is me with you feels right and I'm not used to that.
I don't understand how someone I think is so wonderful could want someone like me. I�ve always believed that a chance like this wasn�t meant for me. I accepted that. But your heart speaks to my heart. That�s a fact. If this wasn�t meant for me, how am I supposed to explain that?
It is what it is; C�est la vie
4:32 a.m. - 2009-10-04
Recent entries:
Hello, Old Friend - 2017-02-13
Heads or Tails - 2011-01-21
Kindness - 2010-12-03
They've taken a toll, these latter days - 2010-11-16
Written in the Winter of 2009 - 2010-09-19
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