Tequila and Chocolate

Tequila and chocolate is running through my veins and I am once again pondering my future. I realised last weekend that I lead a good life indeed yet I still crave more. My downfall as always.

I’ve always overachieved, asked for more than was due, stretched beyond my limitation and always felt I ended with nothing at all.

A true friend is harder to find than most realise or care to admit. I have at least 3 amazing women in my life that see beyond the piles of bullshit I mound up and see me for what I am and cannot be and love me regardless.

Not many people find this, have this, know this.

One lives with me – a constant strength that not many are privileged to. One is so far away my very soul aches and one is as close as a late night text message, a boozy lunch, a call for help. I am indeed blessed.

In this world of love I still search for the excuse of loneliness. My downfall as always.

All this, all this stuff floating in a very private belly of tequila and chocolate is the very essence of me and all I never can seem to be.

In these moments I think of those that I wish I had a greater connection to. People that drive me forward from afar. People that inspire and terrify me all at once. People that make moments like these feel so alive.

I may follow their updates and blogs in awe, marvel at their strength from afar, rave about their beauty to empty rooms all the while staying safe within their shadows.

People can be terrible and beautiful all at once. They can move you and destroy you, complete you. Yet a life without them can be so snug, so warm, so secure.

I feel shaking and lost treading this path alone.

Yet in its purest state we are all alone, all shaking, all scared, all resisting everything that makes us fail, makes us human.

The tequila makes me fearless, fearless enough to publish this blog, the chocolate make me womanly and weak, weak enough to hold the universe in my hands like every woman must.

I have no idea what I want to say in this piece, maybe the pointlessness is the point of it all.

I’m tired of feeling like the model of malfunction yet the ache is so familiar that I steer my wheel to it everyday.

The hardest part of depression is allowing the brain to recognise the good in your life and not allowing your heart to experience it. The world is harder to take when the logic has been removed.

I’m so tired of hearing my own words, of writing darkness; you must be so tired of reading it.

With all that has been given to me, with all that I have fought to keep I would still give it all away for a just one moment of peace.

My downfall as always.