Friday, August 6, 2010

In which Tryph is broken hearted

I was going to just not blog at all today, all things considered.

I wasn't sure I had the words, or if I could adequately express what was on my mind.

I've spent the last 90 minutes crying my heart out, and I suspect I'll be spending the rest of the day in a bit of a fog, but in this moment, this right now, I have a small window of clarity. I suspect the decision to write it all down helped.

This post promises to be lengthy, and perhaps uninteresting to most, but it's something I feel like I have to do.

January 10th I sent a tweet to a fella talking about an email he sent. I simply asked him if he could include me in future threads. up until this point, I had hung out on the fringes, just watching the rest of the kids as they played, wishing I could play too. I took the plunge, even though I thought this person was a little scary. Those who have intense passion are often frightening to those on the outside.

So I sent the tweet, and he sent me an email, and a friendship was born.

Those who knew him, knew him as Matthew, or Mojo or some variation on the theme.

I call him Mojo, and you'll come to understand why he will forever be Mojo in my heart.

You have to understand, the years have not been kind to me as far as relationships go, as far as people go, as far as life goes. Early this year, January even, I was terrified of my own shadow. I was absolutely convinced that I was an awful person and no one could ever care about someone like me.

In essence, I had lost my mojo*.

So sending that tweet. Opening myself up to what I thought was going to be instant rejection was one of the hardest things I felt compelled to do. It was also one of the most rewarding.

In sending that tweet, and getting his email in return, a friendship was born and love flourished.

I won't shy away and hide behind a mask of words today, of all days.

Mojo held a mirror up to me and made me look; he made me SEE. The thing is, he wouldn't let me look through my own eyes, which were tainted by years of life. He showed me what he saw, and what he insisted everyone else saw. He held that mirror, and kept pointing it at me until I started to see what he was talking about.

I swear to you, I started to fall in love right then and there.

It was an intense feeling. I was always the girl without any self worth, and can't remember a single time I actually LIKED myself, and here I was, seeing myself through the eyes of probably the most patient and amazing person I will ever have a chance to meet.

It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to realize that I fell for him pretty hard.

I don't mean in a 'tryph's gonna leave her family and run away to Ohio' kind of way. And I can't really explain WHAT way it was. I don't feel like I HAVE to explain it. I loved him, and that's not even the important part.

He helped me love me.

Mojo was always the first to call me out for being too hard on myself. He refused to let me backslide. He understood my depression and never pushed me or told me it was wrong. He'd let me hide away, but always welcomed me back to the real world. He was always encouraging me to go after what I wanted, what I needed and to be who I was.

He'd say things to me like
'Fuck'em :)
Be you :)
You're awesome :)'

I can assure you, you can only hear things like that for so long before you start to believe it.

Mojo taught me so much too.

He taught me that the things you want in life are the things you sometimes have to fight for.
He taught me that sometimes you need to appreciate what you have more than what you want.
He taught me that I need to stand up for me.
He taught me that people do love me, and can't be held responsible for the scars other people left before.

There's so much more too.

He coaxed me out of my shell... I'm pretty sure that if it wasn't for him, I would have missed my friends wedding. I wouldn't have pushed so hard to accept the RIGHT job and not the first one. I wouldn't have made the friends I have, and I wouldn't have reconnected with the ones I once had.

He inspired me to write again. he inspired me to create again. He inspired me to love and live again.

He helped me find MY mojo*, which had been lost for so long.

And my chest feels like it has a giant hole without him here.

There isn't much more that I can say that isn't more of the same. And yet there is so much more to be said.

I think I'll close on a tweet I'm stealing from @Elianora

'Heaven stopped by on Earth 10th of July. They were jealous and wanted to take their best angel back. Miss ya. Rest in Peace, @super_mojo bro'

*1. Self-confidence, Self-assuredness. As in basis for belief in ones self in a situation.

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