Puppet

Posted on February 21 2012 by J.W. Richmond

                                                     Pushed
                              pulled

                     d r  a  g   g    e    d

             to the starting
X

    strings
           catching
        as they

               t
                 a
             n
                   g
            l
              e

        into

        k
         n
             o
    t
       s.

Fiction intermingles
    with intent
        until only questions
            seep
            through.

Choices
    have been

                      removed

        from what’s next,
    forced instead

            into
            specific
            slots,

              ignoring many years
                  that have been spent,
    pulling out      motives
                  from what’s true.

Differences
    leaving others perplexed,

        yet pervasive

            in
            every
            thought,

    careful not to misrepresent
        the majority disguised as
                    the few.

Misunderstood
    as confused or complex,

                  design
                                               pushed

            into something it’s
                 not –
        going against
            what they said they meant,
        yet cutting off

                everything

                that
                grew.

Customer

Posted on February 18 2012 by J.W. Richmond

Her husband was always so busy
     that he didn’t seem to notice her anymore, she said.

He had school
           work
           sports
                  and she was an afterthought –
                                    if he thought of her at all.

They had a great love, once.

But.

But someone else had been paying attention – to her.
      Someone else had told her she mattered.
      She was important to him.

That was all she ever wanted.

This new guy barely knew her,
     but he had noticed her.
                       And that was significant.

It had started out innocently.

Since she was a customer,
     it was his job to notice her.
                         Nothing was inappropriate.

Until she went back there. Again. And maybe again after that.

He remembered her.
Smiles were exchanged.
They laughed and talked about the weather.

It hadn’t taken much.
She was finally important to someone
     and their conversations
                                   lengthened.

Coffee?
Why not?

They could just be friends.
They could get to know each other.

He paid attention to her,
         and she felt like she could talk to him
                 about anything.
                     Even about her husband
                              and the difficulties they had been having.

He listened
    offered advice
    comforted her
    reached out and
           touched her hand
                 as he looked into her eyes
                                and didn’t move his hand away.

She never meant to sleep with him.
She never thought it would go that far.
She never meant to be that person.

It had all seemed so innocent.
Where had she crossed the line?

How did she get here?

Judged

Posted on February 17 2012 by J.W. Richmond

She said – again –
       I know.
       I know what you’re going to say.

What had I actually said?
What was I saying?
What was she picking up on
               that I had never actually said
                                                   out loud?

And was that a good
                    or bad thing?

She moved in with her boyfriend and told me
                   she knew what I would think,
                               but she had made her decision
                                                      and
                                     he was already living there
                                                            with her.

Would I
      do I
      still love her?
Would I still be there for her?

Of course!

I don’t think I had ever said
                                  I would
                               or wouldn’t [fill-in-the-blank].
      But whatever she got from me was clearly inferred
                                                                assumed.

In one sense, I am glad that I have been communicating
                                 what I believe
                                     and live (I hope)
                                             about marriage
                                               and love
                                               and relationships.

But those small bits of conversations with her
                               are also so sparse
                                             small
                                             minute
                                                  that they feel so
                                             incomplete.

I don’t think I have ever said – out loud to her – that I believe a live-in relationship outside of marriage isn’t the best decision.

But she got it anyway.

Have I said to her that if she chose to do [whatever] – that it would cause issues between us? Or that I would somehow break off the relationship with her if she chose something different?

No.

But maybe she heard something I didn’t say
                                                   or mean.

I can go back over
             and over
                    what I said.

As far as wanting to convey that a particular decision wouldn’t be good for her, that came across to her – somehow.

Did I mean it to be taken so emphatically
                                      strongly
                                      powerfully?

Yes.

And no.

Did I mean to judge her
               or for her to feel judged?

Absolutely not.

And since this entire conversation
                         or conversations
                   seemed to happen
                           without my actually saying anything,
                       how do I communicate in the future
                           what I really meant to say,
                                     or need to say
                                           in actual words?

Off

Posted on February 11 2012 by J.W. Richmond

A couple chords into the song and I am right back there again…

Leaning back on the arm of that cushy chair in the large, open living room, staring at the wood ceiling of the cabin, with my headphones on. It was a cold, winter day in the mountains – crisp, but sunny.

I didn’t know what,
       but something was wrong.
Something was
                             off.

I could add up the pieces I had, but I was missing many.

She wasn’t there. That was the biggest piece.

I wasn’t aware at the time that the song I was listening to
          was filling in the pieces for me –
                   before I ever knew the truth.

Without knowing the meaning behind it, I listened to the song over and over, because it meant something. It was repeating something important.

Remorse.
Guilt.
Shame.

Apology.

Other pieces were revealed later. She had been with someone else, and he was married too. They had started down the road to an affair, and it had all surfaced that morning.

When I got home, I called her. We were just starting to become friends, but I still felt like I should have known – somehow.

She and her husband hadn’t been doing well for a while. She loved him, but she had also developed strong feelings for this other guy. They had crossed significant lines and she was embarrassed about what had happened, and about other people knowing.

She said she just wanted her husband to pay attention to her.

She was sorry. For all of it.

And she had never meant to find that somewhere else.
       She had never meant to find someone else.
       She hadn’t even realized she had been looking elsewhere.

How did everything get so out of control?
 

'I can only give you everything I've got…
I know fine well that what I did was wrong…
And I don't know where to look
My words just break and melt
Please just save me from this darkness'

– “Make This Go On Forever,”
    Snow Patrol

Plot

Posted on February 10 2012 by J.W. Richmond

I would love to write a novel someday.
Or at least something bigger than a short story.

But I am horrible at plot.

What do I need in a movie
                             TV show
                                or
                             book?

                             Plot.

But everything I come up with
                    seems like it has been done before.
              It’s derivative.
              Or incomplete.

I’m not so bad with characters
                           voices
                           dialogue
                           situations
                           setting. (I think.)

But that essential plot
                       is deficient.

Maybe it’s because my life is basically plotless.

The other characters – people,
       their specific voices,
       the dialogue between them
                        around them
                        with me,
       the situations where we or they interact, and
       the setting where everything takes place,
                      leave no room for plot.

Do I have conflict?
          Absolutely.
Do characters change over time?
          I think (hope) so.
Do big things happen that impede daily existence?
          Not every day,
               but more than enough.

Is a big dramatic element present?
          I don’t think so.

My life could never be a reality show.
               Which is totally fine by me.

But I would probably never read that book.
And I turn those shows and movies off.

I just wish sometimes that I could

                         insert

          some small but great version of a plot,
                  purely for the sake of the story
                            that could be written.

Hiccup

Posted on February 4 2012 by J.W. Richmond

I try to hold it back
          stifle it
          quiet it,
                and OUCH.

If I could just force myself
                 to stop breathing for a second,
                          I could almost – OUCH – get a word in.

But if I let myself breathe
      or try to hold my breath
      or try to not breathe at all –
                                         OUCH.

And I can’t help it.

It – OUCH – forces itself into the conversation
                                            thought
                                            sentence
                                                    and interrupts

                                                    OUCH

                                                    everything.

Us

Posted on February 1 2012 by J.W. Richmond

As long as we are a team, I think I can push through anything
                            and force myself to keep going.

But when Jeff and I are disjointed
     when there is something between us
     when we aren’t a team about something – anything,
                                      it’s like I lose my ability to function.

I was so independent before him.

Allowing myself to need him – in any way –
      and learning to trust
                     that he wouldn’t change his mind
                         or decide to leave at any random occasion
                                 has been a journey worthy of Edmund.*

But things inevitably get in the way. All it takes is that one tiny thing to introduce a crack in the team. If there was something slightly split in the first place, that tiny splinter could sever it entirely.

That little, practically nothing expletive splinter
                          can work its way into your bloodstream,
                                        travel to your heart
                                                and kill you.

I can handle it – whatever it is (I think) – as long as we are us.

But as soon as that is put into question,
              if we aren’t on the same page,
                 I lose my footing and the loud,
                                                   pounding,
                                                   fast,
                                                   impending music starts to play
                                          and my body jerks
                                                     as it slams back into the corner.

I can’t even form actual words,
                   much less fight
                              or push on to an actual cause.

The concept of team doesn’t even describe it.
It’s so much more than that.

We are intrinsically linked by a supernatural force that keeps the universe in harmony.

And when there is any sort of interruption,
                      the entire core shakes,
                      and threatens to shatter
                                      and smash everything
                                                        into tiny,
                                                              chewable
                                                              pieces.

We need to be us again before I can function in any other capacity.

Jeff is important to my basic survival – because I vowed that day that I would be with him.

Always.

It was a commitment to prioritize us
                  and never let anything else separate us –
                  which is why I have this driving need for us to be okay,
                                                             for us to be a team
                                                             for us to be linked
                                                             for us to be a partnership.

Because as much as I need to make sure I don’t lose myself in this crazy world, being us is far more important.

When we aren’t right, I can’t even breathe.

Saying I love you doesn’t – and didn’t – mean it feels good right now to say these lovey-dovey, cutesy words.

It means we are connected to each other in a way
                                                            that is bigger
                                                                   than just us.

 

*The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis ©1950

Gossip

Posted on January 28 2012 by J.W. Richmond

I’m not perfect. But I do (usually, hopefully) learn from my mistakes.

I got dumped. He called and asked me to go over to his place so he could do it and not expend any extra energy in the process.

Classy.

I had been praying about the relationship and wondering if it should continue.

God’s solution: dumped. Not the nicest way to answer, but it at least it was clear.

A couple months later, a friend of mine was filling me in on the latest in the guy’s life. We were washing vegetables at In-N-Out before the store opened for the day, slicing tomatoes and ripping up lettuce as we looked out the window over the drive-through.

“He got a girl pregnant,” she said.

No way! <Shock. Un-shock. And not as surprised as I should have been.>

She told me about the girl, and about how upset the girl’s parents were.

“And she’s married.”

What!? <Shock.> Seriously? It was a crazy soap opera story, and I couldn’t believe it was reality.

A new co-worker walked up behind us as we were talking. He had just started a couple days before. “Do you know who you’re talking about?” he asked.

My ex-boyfriend.

“And my wife.”

No breath. <Speechless.>

Yeah.
That happened.

Wow, I blubbered
          stammered
          barely got out.
I’m sorry.
Sorry, oh my gosh, sorry, and – of course – we had no idea.

He was clearly hurt. I had been so wrapped up in one side of the story that I completely ignored that there was someone – anyone – else involved.

I had completely ignored that it was all gossip. Because it involved me, right?

Nope.

I was no longer in the picture. I was no longer involved. It wasn’t my business anymore.

I learned my lesson.
I think.
I hope.

Because I never want to put myself or someone else in that situation again.

Pray

Posted on January 26 2012 by J.W. Richmond

I’m not sure I pray – enough.

Not enough
     as in long enough
        or often enough.
Although I’m sure both of those are true.

But thoroughly enough.

I’m not sure I always pray through
             the possibility of what God may want
                                                         or do
             with whatever He has placed in my life –
                      no matter how much I may hate whatever it is.

Because whatever it is, is so bad
     that no one should ever have to live it
                                                endure it
                                                exist in it.
     And I would never wish whatever it is on another person.

Anyone else who doesn’t have some horrible malice or vendetta against someone would come to the same conclusion about my circumstance. Right?

So why wouldn’t He think that too?
Or bother to remove it from my life?
     Because I know He can.

Am I doing something wrong?
What if I prayed for something different?

I can what-if that scenario to a bloody mess
     and never have any actual answers.

What do I know is
                     He is God.
                     And I am not.

I’m not praying for something bad
                                         wrong
                                         immoral.

But – maybe – there is something He knows
                                                     that I don’t.

And maybe I should be praying
                                       differently.

What would
         could
         might happen next time
              if I think past my prayer
                        that isn’t necessarily wrong, but incomplete?
              If I think past my immediate distress
                                      or gigantic in-my-face circumstances
                                      or admittedly sometimes selfish needs
                                                 and pray more thoroughly?

Would my tiny change in prayer
     really make that big of a difference?
Would it fix things
                  circumstances
                  outcomes?

I don’t know.

But maybe it would make a difference in how I view
                                                                  see
                                                                  perceive things.

And that might make a difference
                                in how I perceive Him.

Know

Posted on January 21 2012 by J.W. Richmond

I don’t know how.

All I do is answer the phone and my mom knows already.

Are you okay? You don’t sound quite right.

Sad.
Upset.
Sick.
Tired.

It doesn’t really make a difference.

Mom just knows.

It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything; I just don’t put it all out there on display. But she picks up on the subtleties that I don’t generally put out there.

When I did try to hide stuff back when I was a kid, she spotted the inconsistencies, the untruths. (A lot of the time, at least.)

I hated it back then, because I was usually trying to get away with something I shouldn’t have been doing in the first place.

But now I realize
          she knows
                    because she loves me that much.

She paid attention to me.
She watched me
      listened to me, even though it didn’t always feel like it
      cared, enough to back off and try to give me space
                                 but still keep a very watchful eye.

She knew and knows the depths of me in a way I never had any clue about.

I wonder if I have limited my view of God to that of a parent. Not the unconditionally loving, patient, compassionate parent, but a weird combination of hovering and inattentive at the same time.

I believe God created me and knows everything; nothing is hidden from Him. But I have always just assumed He knew because He knew. Not that He knew because He cared enough to know.

Enough to know every little detail about what I do, think, and just how I am (Psalm 139:2-3).

Maybe
       I have been the kid
                 who assumed He just didn’t – or wouldn’t – understand.

And maybe, even if I can’t see or feel it, He cares too.