Who is Mr. Hux?
Who am I?
Mr. Hux lives this life in a constant state of perplexity and walks this Earth with sky blue eyes looking down- waiting to find the next best thing.
He’s the kind of man who detects subtle objects that have been abandoned from their place of origin.
The aspects of life that don’t belong.
The vigilance he possesses offers quite a charming and intriguing appeal. The synchrony of his mind and eyes gives him almost a super hero like attribute in discovering the pieces he finds among the world.
He’s a veteran.
I partially blame this favorable talent from being in an unfavorable war zone.
He told me how he finds things, but he just moves them out of the way, trashes them, or occasionally he may find use for one of the items.
Mostly- disregarded them.
From rusty tiny broken screws to shiny fake diamonds- you name it- he captures it.
He even found pieces of the moon that crumbled down between the street cracks.
Mr. Hux is a beautiful broken man, probing through the parts of life wanting to obtain an undivided heart and mind, and a gratifying place within the world.
He has the pieces, but confused in the direction of making them resemble completeness.
I am a designer, a woman who feels utter joy in making something out of “nothing.”
I love to destroy mundane items and find what I can make new out of the torn apart objects I become bored with.
I demolish life apart and rebuild it over and over until I find my so-called perfect place.
I shuffle around the earth defeated, dragging my feet and looking down with my dirty pond colored eyes desperately searching to attain contentment within my mind- oblivious to the surrounding stagnant objects offered.
I asked Mr. Hux to start collecting the lost objects he finds and I could make use of them- including the rusty things, which he despised and wanting nothing to do with. I created a necklace out of ordinary metal pieces he retrieved for me.
I now have a box full of anticipation.
To somebody else, they would consider the things to be useless rubbish.
Every piece that resides in that box feels more valuable than a thousand diamonds.
They all scream with desire to regain wholeness.
Is it the act of him finding them?
Is the act of me making them whole?
Is the act of our actions together that creates something so unique?
Recently, I watched my entire life fall into a million pieces and I have been slowly trying to gather everything together and rebuild it entirely.
I want to feel wholesome again, but this time for real.
Are they pieces of him?
Or are they pieces of me?
I always wanted to make myself at whole, hoping to find that something in the nothing that I accomplish.
He always wanted make himself at whole, hoping to find that something in everything he accomplishes.
Perhaps they are pieces of him?
The objects were once sustained with other objects for a purpose of holding something together and some were added pieces for a glimmer decor.
Now they lay complacent and abandoned; they fell apart from what made them part of entire piece.
From his past, he established certain life principles in a rustic fashion, yet holds the ability to see the light in the smallest of forms.
He tends to find complications in being complete. He has all the forms of life, yet lost to how to put them together.
He knows it’s all there.
But lacks the visible wholeness.
Perhaps they are pieces of me?
My screws and bolts have rusted over from the tears I cried upon them. I felt they were lost and already gone and I no longer deserved newness within my decaying structure.
I struggled with the renovation of my life using rusted artifacts and broken pieces.
He helped me realize that no matter how broken and fallen apart an object may be, I can put them together and still finish with a piece of art.
We both found one another and started a friendship at the foundation of our lives. We’re in the midst of operating on the core of our beings.
We are rebuilding ourselves from the complete obliteration of our hearts.
Through one another, we found our worst and we found our best.
I found my worst- I never truly realized how I put men on a pedestal and expect a being of total perfection. I tend to forget that they are human as I am and to expect a perfect response or action to everything they do is impossible.
It’s mostly unfair.
I always expected them to live to my standards.
It sounds simple when I write it now, but really it took me this long to realize it was my ultimate set up for their failure.
I always managed to find the perfect flaw causing me flee from their arms. I was never truly committed as I believed to be, nor knew how to love unconditionally.
I knew how to love when everything I needed was met. It appears so selfish, but they know and I know, it was not something done by purpose.
The best he brought out of me is my ability to forgive and hold my anger.
The anger that drove me through my times of hurt is working towards its dissipation.
He taught me to cry instead of lash out.
I am able to actually cry when something has hurt me, whereas I used to just hold back and build a fortress of hidden anger getting ready to explode at the next worse thing.
I may be over analyzing the pieces he acquires and brings to me, but I know that they truly hold an intertwined divine intervention for the both of us.
They stand as a symbol of being thrown into the chaotic world of never belonging and leaving behind the defenses that made us feel comfortable.
These bits and pieces-
Broken off from the aspects of life by destruction, waiting to be found and intricately added back to the parts of our lives we once forgotten.
Everything together- every piece found– can be put back together and be recreated as a part of something entirely new and lovelier then before.
The findings of us, found the perfect pieces in leaning towards completeness.
The renewal of finding our failures and finding our strengths to establish a balanced spirit of understanding will set you free by the grace of God.
We are like a molecule, creating a perfectly balanced bond.