Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Changing seasons...

Pumpkin Spice Latte = Love.

The windows to the soul are not the eyes. They are the sometimes-indistinguishable minute words scribbled down on small scraps of paper and mailed to friends who live in different states, different countries. You don’t have to look for my soul; I’ll show it to you if you want to see it.

Writing letters is soothing; sharing your heart is a little nerve-racking, being loved is the best feeling ever, loving others feels even better than being loved.

My sister baked me a pumpkin pie and dropped it by the house when she visited last weekend. It made me smile. She really wanted to buy Coolwhip. I didn’t. (Coolwhip is really only good with strawberries.) The pie ended up going bad because we forgot to refrigerate it for 3 days. Oops. But that didn’t even really matter, the fact she made it just for me was enough.

There is a couple sitting across from me in the coffee shop. They aren’t talking. There is no need. They are simply sitting. His leg is on her lap; her hand is in his. They are perfectly content with being. That’s what I’m looking for. I’m not looking for anything unrealistic, over-romantic, or unobtainable. I want the sugar in the raw- it doesn’t look fancy, it isn’t refined, but it is better for you than the pretty looking stuff. It’s raw, it’s real, but still tastes great.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Directionally challenged, Diminutive dysfunction, and Dynamite.

Goodness, I’m feeling a little lost about which direction to take, but at the same time I’m excited by not knowing. I think I’m just going trust Him this time. I’m not going to try to figure it all out in advance. I will let the doors that open, open, and the doors that close, I’ll lock them for my own personal safekeeping. Somehow I always try to take the route that is clearly obstructed. Why must I be so stubborn?

I’m a little scared and don’t know what to do about next semester. Italian 2? I’m doubting in my “ability.” Damn you, fear. I think I decided my classes for next semester. I think all I need to do now is get my rear in gear, bust my butt for the next semester and a half and then I’m off to Italia. Lord willing.

Be kind, my heart is much gentler than I make it out to be.

Me? Working for the CIA?
Now that’s a thought.
FLI?
Maybe one day.
In fact, that would be AWESOME! :)

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Oh dear friend, gentle heart.

I see the light of your soul reflected in your kindness-filled eyes. How strange. Because I could have sworn my eyesight for this sort of thing had faded over the past few years leaving me unable to see the beauty in the unspoken well-concealed depths of a person. (Or maybe I just didn’t look hard enough.) My initial cynicism keeps me at bay from looking deeper, past the inherent yet unmerited thoughts that my mind immediately constructs. How inconclusively shallow of me. How hypocritical. Yet, my final mental conclusions don’t rest in these unfruitful assumptions that are ultimately dismissed for their intrinsic shallowness. But still, I cannot cease their production. Why doesn’t my mind have a one-touch sleep mode? Why is trusting people so difficult for me?

I sat and listened. I sat and became someone else. I revisited the day their heart broke. I revisited their moment of betrayal. I felt their pain and after quite a while, they finally arrived- gentle drops streaming down sun-touched cheeks. Is it sad that I have to live these moments of relief-filled release vicariously? Am I unable feel this without them? Last time my heart felt this way was about 2 years ago. And still I had their aid. And still I feel this from a distance. This issue of heart breaking, of the aching loss of such a beautiful love- I don’t know what it is like outside of this unrealistic “reality” that I have self-constructed. But realistically, I feel dead inside.

Shade-filled apple trees lined the side of the road. It was as if they gently held shade in their boughs just for me. I would like to think that nature would be this kind. I would like to think that mankind would be equally considerate.

I was feeling a little lonely today, so I surrounded myself with the beehive of humanity. The hundreds of other souls constantly moving about attempting to reach their final destination was enough to distract my heart from feeling inconsolably isolated. I don’t feel lonely very often, but when I do the compression of a trash compactor feels non-existent in comparison.

Divergent daydreams

I believe in you more than I believe in myself. And I really, really, really believe in myself.