So much to give
Thursday, January 20, 2011 at 10:53PM 
I realize I have so much to give, I burst at the seams. But I'm afraid - I tried it before - I gave and I gave, and it became a catastrophe. People didn't understand - they thought I was nuts, it was a lot to them - they were not used to receiving so much of me, or of anybody. They wanted their space - and I was being pushed away, with all my glorious giving that they didn't give a fuck about. I learned it the hard way, and shut myself up. For good. Or so I thought. I forgot. And now it's wanting back, wanting to get out of me, to be given, for someone to receive - for the right person - to be able to handle the load, and not buckle under the weight. Not stare me up and down, sizing the opportunity, but simply opening up to get. Scary? Yeah. What if I mix in some emotional poison in there, or some scary afterthoughts from my daydreaming, or bizarre ideas on how to shape the humanity the right way - something that is not of any interest to that person and is better left out?
Not the first time. I am used to it. I corked myself up and let it sit, it took its time to age and now it's pushing its way out - and I am not even ready yet. How did I manage to shake myself up? It's all the bubbles - they want to crack through the cap and spray the ceiling. I know. I've felt them from time to time, but successfully managed to suppress most of them. Only a couple escaped here and there. Stubborn gas, or hormones, or the need to love - our common desire to connect - are pulsing inside of me. And I want to give it - I have so much, I want to share - it is spilling over me - but why does it look so scary? This scenario? Why does it warn me of the potential overdose - the overdose of giving - and being rejected? Being thrown all my stuff into my face, like an intellectual vomit that only exists between family members that know how to push each other's buttons? I vouched to live and to feel - so what is stopping me?
Pain. I know that once I let myself go - I feel everything to the extreme. It is either all or nothing - I hate being in the middle. The pleasure of giving gets me up high like on drugs, but the pain of waiting to hear back, of waiting to receive as much as I gave - this can plunge me into the darkness I haven't seen in the worst of my dreams. It can be physically so real, that it hurts my body, my chest, my heart. I love it and I hate it. I want it and I can't stand it. I know life is always two sided and without letting myself feel the pain - I can never attain ultimate pleasure. And so I hang on the fence, looking down, thinking who would be the lucky one - to throw my weight at, my fully blown attitude - who can handle it, who will welcome it - who will need it - if there is even a need for it, if there is even someone who needs it - fully. Who will cherish it, and drink from it - to become rich, to ripen, to accumulate the good - so that I can be of use, so that all that I can give - can work, will work, was not corked up for no reason - can be tasted slowly and appreciated.
I am slowing down, I can see myself from the side now. My hands are full, my heart is full - the emptiness is gone, I have grown my own essence. It drifts along the shore, populating the air with me, and there is still more. I am afraid to drop everything I am holding - it has been so long that I gave. I feel like any passerby might be my target - just to share. To be able to sweeten the existence - mine, theirs, ours. So much to give - to many, and to one. So much that I can barely see myself behind it. Maybe one day it will over-ripen and fall off, and I will be running around empty again. But now I'm full, and spilling...
Photo by Helga Weber.
Reader Comments (2)
Ksenia, You are one of the most honest persons I know. You are in touch with your feelings to the core. You write well also. I assume English is not your first language! Keep up the good work and thanks for letting me into your inner world. Blessings and Grace, Milton Kliesch
Oh Milton - thanks so much! And thank you for taking the time to read my writing - yes, English is my second language, but I love it.