A Curse On The Thieves of Warmth - Brand New Typewriter Series Poem

Typewriter Series #3099

Finding your person never happens when you think it’s gonna happen. Never happens how you think it will either, and no one tells you that, at least not enough. Movies and books and songs and stories all make us think that it happens in some fantastical way, some meet cute in some bookstore, reaching for the same copy of the same tattered novel and the rest is happily ever after. Sometimes, sure, sometimes.

Sometimes it’s nothing like that though, sometimes you meet someone that you know you have to have in your life, but your circumstances don’t allow for it. Sometimes they are with someone else, sometimes you are, sometimes you gotta wait and swallow it and be their best friend because at least it’s something. Sometimes that period of time that you’re absolutely aching is short lived, sometimes, it’s years, and when you start adding up the time that your life has been your life without them in it, it feels choking, it feels smothering, and you don’t know how to reconcile all those years you spent shivering, and alone.

Here’s the thing they also don’t tell you, the thing they forget: You have a choice what you do with the past that person carries, what you do with the people they were with, the time they stole from you while you waited, while you ached, while you ate meals alone and wished for things that couldn’t yet be. You can curse them, and this is an attractive choice for those with deep roots in their ancestry back to people once called pagan, you can curse them as thieves of the warmth you know you deserved, and let that be something that roots its way into their life after you. Or.

Or, you can understand that you’re bigger than that, bigger than the curses that would have had you on stake with fresh fire roaring below your bare feets, you can understand that sometimes, when you’ve finally earned what you’re finally due, that’s enough. That love, is enough.

To love, and to be loved in unimaginable ways, is a blessing, and it takes awhile to understand that to be loved that way means that they never loved that way before, not really. This is the curse you don’t have to offer, the curse that comes on its own and presents itself naturally, the curse that will be lifted when the people they spent those years with find those that show them that love, unimaginable and true, they had been missing too.

This poem is about that. This poem is about the juxtaposition of those two emotions within your heart when you wait and wait and wait and finally get to where you’re supposed to be. The curse, or the love, we get to choose. I hope you choose right.

As usual, I’m sharing these brand new, intimate, special, never-before-read Typewriter Series poems to this community, and to those that have upgraded their memberships as a way to help keep this place going. The poetry, the audio versions of it, are a fun little perk, and if you wanna be the first to read and interact with all of it, I’d love to have you, I really do need your support. Click the button below: