it begins here.

i always wanted to be a blogger as if i had something to say, like my life needed to be read for your sake.  let's face it, we all have had experiences that held us captive and caved us into ourselves at one point, so i think it is necessary i talk to you.  fill up your coffee cup, even if it's blueberry pomegranate juice you're wanting (my favorite) and let's face each other.  we need freedom.  it can start in a blog.

let me begin here:  my name is alyssa smith and, my dear reader, i am going to call us friends.  you could say i'm at the beginning of my life.  the transition couldn't be anymore difficult.  give me about a month and my age is 22.  i just got out of an abusive relationship, and now understand the battle women have with themselves when they're in these relationships.  their comforter is their abuser.  mine was.  it's tragic.  you find your lover, you name them "soulmate".  because they seem too good to be true from the start, the speed and motion of your physical passion has you out of your element like you're in another woman's skin.  so you envy your own heart.  i give you three months tops and you'll despise yourself for your own momentum because the outcome will become this:  sweaty bodies pushing and shoving, panicked and raging, not bodies beading sweat naked and intimate under covers and ontop of covers.  a missing windshield wiper on a dodge caliber.  a torn up journal that was not his to read.  a clipboard stuck in a wall at a fitness center.  a screaming match from 9PM to 5:45AM.  and a monster inside of you.  the red flags were there, were they not?

i used to be beautiful.  my spirit that is.  july 8th, 2012, it died.  so recent, right?  i never felt so worthless and undeserving of love.  believing such a thing, i threw myself under a bus, returning to and running from this man i couldn't get away from because i wanted to stay.  i found comfort in the sick cycle of being loved and hated.  i learned something though.  what we believe in is our comfort no matter what it is, good or bad, because it affirms us.  we're vulnerable to this concept.  whatever will solidify our beliefs about ourselves will create itself a sacred god to save us.  in my case, this man was my god, and destruction was my construction.

i'm praying for peace and strength.  restoration is waht i need.  after 5 months of passion, fusion, fighting and beating the air, pushing and shoving, sex and wanting, i've lost the desire to love a man or trust i'll be loved.  separating from him, it was not a clean cut. i always thought after a break up, physical or not, you moved on with life, sad at first but okay in september.  no.  i thought he was my soulmate, companion, best friend, lover, husband, this gift from God, every need met.  our conversations and our kisses.  we were deep, this intertwined and interwoven couple.  so much of me was never missing, and though this man was separated from me and gone, so much of him was left.  more of him than me.  i envy the woman i was before i was ruined.  thank God for grace.

i'll end my first blog with this:  watch the world change color when all the sand hits the bottom of your square shaped hour glass.  be creative today.