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About Deviant Artist Member Michaela JoyFemale/United States Recent Activity
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Michaela Joy
United States
I'm Michaela and I'm pretty much just like everyone else. :)

Favourite style of art: Conceptual Photography, Literature, Prose.
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Skin of choice: Keratosis Pilaris-less
Favourite cartoon character: Ming Ming
Personal Quote: "One can hope."
    The movies aren't a clear representation of it. Which we knew going in. There's the mushy, goose bump crap in the first act, and then oh no, the plot has thickened and she's just too mad to be with him, and then, alas he has earned back her trust and love and then the movie ends before you get to the good stuff. So, we know that's not really realistic on too many levels. And I have just never been good at the mushy stuff as it is. At least until now. Now I'm worried that I will never get used to the fact that he has to leave me for 24 hours to go to work. Good lord, when did a day get to be so long? It's like I'm thirsty, all the time. Every extra minute I'm spending on my own is just part of yet another countdown, waiting, waiting, waiting until we're back as we and not me. I'm not really that pathetic, well, not normally. I swear, I used to have my shit together. But, there's just something about jumping states, bringing nothing but a car full of your past life, and starting fresh, that really disarms you.
    Starting over is hard when you're alone, the threats are large. Loneliness, regret, complete failure at the new life you were so sure of. But then you have a wide open canvas, completely blank, to fill up. All by yourself, your own masterpiece just waiting to be turned around for everyone else to see, and be awed. Starting over is also hard when you're an us. It still has the potential to be lonely, when the secondary parts of your life fall away, and you are, truly, just us. But you still have a canvas, and it is still empty and exciting. It's still yours together, and no one else'. The brush strokes will be all your own, and only when you've given someone new the permission to leave a mark, will that picture turn into anything other than exactly what you want it to be.
    Starting over alone, for someone you love, is hard. Along with your belongings, all the pieces of you, deemed important enough to drag along to this new place, you also brought your canvas. Empty, and white and ready for anything you, the two of you, might throw at it, brush onto it, press into it. You brought expectations, ideas, supplies to start anew. And then, upon arrival, there he is, waiting for you, with a canvas all his own, displayed in his welcoming arms. Except, his canvas isn't white. It's not blank, empty, and waiting. His is full. Colored in and thriving. Every corner is covered with some hue that means so much to him. From the outside in, the colors mix and connect and flow together perfectly. Almost every inch of the canvas is covered. There is one piece, small, but open that lingers right at the very center. The heart of his canvas is empty, and waiting. There is room for you to create. There is space to call your own. But looking at the canvas you brought, at the room you would have, at the blank space so vast and expectant, dwarfs his offering. And what would have been all your own, is covered already. Where you might have put pieces of yourself, he's already given permission for others to rest their things. Where you once had an entire canvas, you now are part of his entire canvas, given permission to spread yourself all over it, or in between the lines.

    In a less romanticized way, I really need to say, moving for him has been tough. I think I'm finally figuring out why. When you move with someone else you start a life together, and I'm merely being added to a life that he already has running very smoothly. He has agendas and schedules and plans and I fall where I fit. Where there is room. The problem is, this isn't a problem, it's only a problem for me. Because he isn't in the middle of a change. He isn't transitioning. He isn't starting over. He is only adding. And adding is positive. But it leaves a lot to be desired on my end. Because one wants to start together, and move at the same pace together, and discover together, and unfold together, and plan together, and schedule together, and begin a life together. But I am at a starting line, and he is laps ahead of me, possibly even races. This is a problem where I let it be. And so far I've been letting it control me. It makes me mad when I shouldn't be. Yes, this is hard, and yes, I am lonely, and scared, and sad, and disappointed, but none of that is his fault. And I am also hopeful, and happy, and thrilled, and at peace, and in love. And all of that is his fault. Starting over is hard, but it is harder when you expect someone else to fight your battles, or unpack your boxes, or paint your canvas for you. I brought with me expectations that he could never live up to, and not because he doesn't want to. But because he understands something that I don't. Life doesn't stop. He can't put everything on hold until I have run long and far enough to catch up with him. He can't wash his canvas clean, and let me start it with him. He has a life, full of people, and jobs, and schedules to offer me. He has a canvas already well on its way to completion to give. It isn't perfect, and sometimes it isn't even ideal. Sometimes it sucks and I find myself lost in a sea that isn't even mine. But it isn't hard because he is making it hard, it is hard because I threw my canvas away. Instead of painting two pictures, and hanging them side by side, I let him paint ours.

    After an empty bed and a melt down of a morning, I think I have finally figured out why it's been so difficult and why I'm always so upset, and why even the smallest thing he does can knock me over. It's time to go buy a new canvas and start painting it with my colors and my talent. It's time to hang them both, side by side, at the center of our home. It's time to let him put a paintbrush to my art as I take a pencil to his. Because, his life can only make room for me, it cannot change for me. And my life can only grow around his, it cannot stop growing.
  • Mood: Longing
  • Listening to: The clacking of the keyboard.
  • Reading: Words?
  • Watching: The clock.

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Kaafan123 Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2013
E-Minz-W Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
oh my gosh
let me pet your literature
beingabletobreathe Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2013
Have at it. ^_^ 
E-Minz-W Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
DarkestNocte Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Congrats on 5,000 pageviews too =D
DarkestNocte Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Hi. I love your writing, and I want to be able to write like you one day. I was wondering, how long have you been writing for?
beingabletobreathe Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2013
Hello. I'm glad you like it. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you! I need to get back into it. I think I probably started around 7 or so years ago.
MySideoftheStreet Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2011
one of the best writers I've ever read...
beingabletobreathe Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2011
Aww. Thank you!!! :-D
silentpuppeteer Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2010
Everything you write makes me sad. Honestly, I didn't even read that much but everything I've read has made me sad.
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