Wemadeplanstobeunbreakable

Learning patience though impatient acts

2011-04-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

It was purely selfish, dialing the 10 digit number, area code included, with my partially wobbly, obviously nervous pointer finger. Recruiters put me in a dither. I was relieved when she answered though, and kept my cool. She kept cooler, although she must have been thrown off guard by my unexpected phone intrusion, “I’m glad you called,” she said. And I heard it in her voice, she was glad I called. My heart jumped a little.

We discussed matters regarding Peace and future meetings, unknown information, and her gratefulness for my patience. She didn’t know I was starting to wonder if anything was ever going to happen, and this is the reason I called… maybe not so patient after all. After all was said and done regarding business matters, I asked her how her day was. It seemed to be going well enough. Her voice smiles on the phone. Oh what I wouldn’t give for a meeting over a cup of coffee and ready responses to the questions brewing in my mind. Don’t worry, kid, you will find out everything, all in due time, all in due time. I steadily reassured myself as the phone call ended. I truly feel "ok" being in such good hands, His and hers.

The Peach Tea Discovery

2011-04-06T17:43:00.000-07:00

Today I discovered a new thing. Although little and seemingly ridiculous to write about, I have discovered the joy of drinking Snapple. I never considered myself a tea person, unless it was hot and black or herbal and green with just a tiny glob of honey added. But today I decided to venture wide, jump out of my comfortable bubble of the well-known, of the already-stamped "me approved" beverage selection. Ok, Ok, I take too much credit. I’m a creature of habit, I know, so I’m really glad that 55 cent off coupon was hanging from the refrigerator doors of the Circle K, gently nudging and encouraging me to risk the .63 cents necessary to purchase it. That gentle nudging joined with my disdain for change was the final blow. I buckled, and buckling has never tasted so good. So thank you .55 cent coupon, you’ve added another joy to my life.

Restlessness: Well, this morning I decided I don’t like it very much.

2011-03-29T06:24:00.000-07:00

It’s that feeling that wakes you up in the middle of the night, the one that induces stomach pains and headaches that have no specific bodily reason for existence or seeming derivation. I didn’t eat something bad. I didn’t drink too much. They come and go as they please, and nothing helps to abate them.

Distracting helps a little, but only for so long. It isn’t the act of examination that I fear, although my palms do get sweaty and my hands shake a little. It is the underlying implication that this examination brings. It seems to me as if they are lined up, all together, each having the same expectant look on their face that says, “Let’s go kid, let’s see what you’re made of,” one thing that I fear the most. I don’t even know what I am capable of, I guess. But somehow I like resting in the unknown, because it leaves no place to reveal lack.

My goodness, I’m nearly 25. When is this going to end?!

This morning after waking up I decided, I think I am going to take a wiffle bat to life’s knees, just to see where it will get me. Because I want to know what I’m made of; I want to know where I lack. I want to make myself better. And well, you will never realize you have the remnants of this morning’s powered doughnut on your face until you decide to look in the mirror. And wouldn’t you rather discover it now rather than 10 min later on the bus when a stranger informs you of it with the universal silent gesture of the “you-have-something-on-your-face” hand swipe? Yah, me too. :)

Quando non sei qui vicino, sei ancora con me.

2011-03-26T08:02:00.000-07:00

Quando non volgio andarci da sola , ci andrò con te.
Quando non posso vederti più, a te penserò e ci riuscirò.
Quando il buio scende, voleremo al sole portati sulle ali dell’amore.
Fuggiremo dal mondo, dalla sua tristezza,
Dall’odio della gente, da tutto che c’è di male.

Don't stay put

2011-02-22T17:48:00.000-08:00

Goodness I see the potential
For you to become what I have not
For you to win what I have lost
For you to remember what I forgot

For every word, letter, and phone call, I thank you. It seems that thanking you is all I can do, though I hanker for the day when I can do much more. When I can see you live your dreams and help you, if you ever need it. Though I doubt it. Your will, at times, is far stronger than mine. Stubborn even, I am sure, but still soft, malleable, clay-like in its rawness.

I have blinked and the time has flown.
I have learned and have come to know
That time won’t leave us left alone
Always together though not at “home”
Or the home that used to be our own
Now given to dust-covered pillowcases
Old threads and ratty shoelaces
Half-chewed by our animal friend
Who couldn’t remain with us in the end
A sad state he left us in
and in which we will not remain.

Revisions, Revisions and the Art of Revising the Revised.

2011-02-10T10:50:00.000-08:00

I gladly released it from my hands this morning.
In fact, I sent it away with a warm welcome,
A glimmer of hope, and a post-marked price of $2.73.

Destination known, Atlanta.
Sender, nervous aka Clammy hands.
Future unknown: nowhere, maybe?

So in the back of your mind you revise your life plan,
With fallback options including plans A, B, C, and BFE.

Oh weary soul,
When will you stop planning and re-planning for tomorrow
You are going to waste all of your time, leaving no time for now.

Allusions to elude

2011-01-13T15:31:00.000-08:00

No one will remember
None could forget.
Corporations and government
Outtakes and shipwrecks
Baby bottles and Nyquil
This oil spill… too complex?
No thanks to BP,
No help from the GOV
In fact, should there be?
-Parties made of tea cups
-“Moral” degradation
-Standing with the right
-Standing with the left
First flights, first fancy, foul fake ornament
Looks good from the outside,
But inside descent
Too big the great divide
When will it all collide?
Mesh into one
Undo what we have done
Will no one return?
Will no one learn?

The card you were dealt was paper mache
Made out of wet and dry and grey
Old wrinkled newspaper never once read
Those stories, those lives, left for dead.

Different can be the same

2010-12-16T13:38:00.000-08:00

They say she can’t influence you because well you aren’t the same.
Different history, different color, different name,
Yet I see a reflection of the darkness of my heart.
The part I try hardest to conceal,
Shoved relentlessly, unequivocally inside
Hidden in my closet behind those ratty, torn shoes,
Dust-covered boxes and old journals filled with youthful musings.

They are pieces of me left abandoned
But somehow you can see my veiled attempts to masquerade
And you are intent on telling the world.
Though you do not even know me,
You speak of me in oddly overt, unspecific terms
I am like you, like everyone else; we are all one in the same
We have a same heart, a same soul, a same need for oxygenated air.

It is clear I have a story just like you
Yet if our pieces were put together not even half of them would mesh
Though some would fall naturally others I would force, berate
The harshness of their clashing tones
Would equate to forks and knives and plates all rubbing together
Underneath the guide of a four-year-old in an upscale restaurant.
Where all the heads would turn and take notice
And the news would probably report it
It’s dramatic. There is discord. This makes good news!

To err is human, and an error it would certainly be
To coerce all our pieces to subsist as cookie-cutter shapes,
Rather let’s leave seeds of dissension behind,
Not to go forever untouched, but considerately set aside for now
Until we can learn to reshape us in lieu of trying to shape each other
Instead let’s find the pieces that sing sweetly together
They are somewhat similar still wonderfully diverse
And when combined they don’t rhyme, they harmonize.
Only one picture, only one image, only one name.
Didn’t anyone ever tell you? Different can be the same.

On writing poetry and other things...

2010-12-12T17:16:00.000-08:00

"I am afraid to show you who I really am, because if I show you who I really am, you might not like it--and that's all I got."
~ Sabrina Ward Harrison

Let Him be your peace

2010-10-16T16:20:00.000-07:00

Violent beatings of your heart drive your blood pressure upward. The pace of your breathing increases, and it seems this time you will drown for sure. And then... strange how life jackets are found in the form of empty syrofoam cups and half-submerged crates full of 500 thread-count linen sheets.

Let not your heart be troubled middle-aged one. He will carry you when you are unable to walk, just as he did when you were young.

On sitting in Starbucks looking into Moravian mirrors.

2010-10-16T09:39:00.000-07:00

These glass walls seem liberating. They lie. They tease. They show you where you could be if you weren’t currently tied down to this chair, tied to this life. These never ending tasks weigh heavy on you, and you are tired. This constant stream drains the delight from it, squeezing it dry. And this is not what you wanted it to become. But still you rest content to see your hands form something, although not as you imagined, it remains beneficial. And you will always welcome this growth, though it comes slow.

You look constantly forward, waiting for the moment to become more. When will you dare glance in the mirror to see who you are now, and what you have already become? Hide. Go ahead, try. Turn off all the lights. But here it won’t matter. This glass prison lets only light in and forces you to see you. Maybe now you will remove the black cloth. The mourning period is over, it is time to move on, to see what this tragedy has made you.

This is the moment that you knew…

2010-10-11T15:39:00.001-07:00

…the moment that left you so completely unsure, that leaves you feeling lost and confused. But these come, and they will go, these feelings of insecurity and non belonging. You will wake up tomorrow and you will feel completely loved.

You wish that you were lighter of heart and mind sometimes, but these thoughts come like water from crying clouds, unable to be stopped, pulled down forcefully by gravity. And you realize you are equally being pulled downward, unable to slow your descent. So you welcome the earth with two arms spread out wide. And for the first time you truly believe beyond yourself.

You say to yourself, “It will never be the same again.”

And it will never be the same again.

Oh Ulysses, how hard you fight reasoning around this inhumanity.

Facing future thoughts with past places in mind

2010-10-03T06:48:00.000-07:00

You slip your sunglasses on. The sun washed whiteness that fills your eyes hurts a little, but you can’t turn away. Such a beautiful sight. Beyond the limits of happen-chance until the furthest reaches of perfect planning you find yourself. You can’t go back. You can’t change it, and you wouldn’t for anything.

And though it seems that all could crash around you, that you would remain with nothing left in your hands but your five fingers balled up and tucked under your palm, you face these future thoughts with unbelievable determination. 27 months isn’t that long, you tell yourself. But you remember well that day that seemed to last eternity, dragging out, full of sorrow, full of loss. And that was only 27 hours. But this can’t be the same. It won’t be, you tell yourself. So you face it with a positive outlook, all the while wondering if the ones you love will be here when you return.

This is just one of those times where you have to jump. Jump into the unknown, into the uncertain, into the unending change- one of the only constants in your life until this point. Your heart beats fast, and still you feel peace. Unnerved, you remain calm. He is greater than you will ever have to be. He will go with you. You will be ok. It will be ok.

Love is an impossible thing, impossible to figure out, impossible to be without.

2010-10-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

My sister came to visit me today. It left my heart feeling unusually warm. I love that she is my sister, that we are more honest with each other than most people, that she shows me parts of me that others don’t, things that I want and should change that aren’t necessarily up to par.

We ran a lot of errands. That is our thing, hop from store to store buying things that we need that we don’t want to go shopping for by ourselves because it is much more fun going with someone you love. We went to world market and bought two baskets, one for each of our parents, and we filled them up with random things that we thought they would like. From Christmas ornaments to chocolate-y treats and beyond we filled it with things that reminded us of them.

Perhaps we were driven by our morning conversation over coffee. I don’t know how we got on the subject of one day being with out them, or the possibility of one day one of them being without the other and how hard it would be for them. Though sad, you have to think of these things. They spur you forward to a consciousness that everyday is valuable, that nothing should be taken for granted. You never really know how much longer you will have with someone. So if you love them you should tell them. And not just once so that you can check it off of your list of things to do, but everyday, in some way small or big. It doesn’t matter how you say it, but THAT you say it.

I don't think they make stopper plugs for this.

2010-09-25T10:21:00.000-07:00

Left foot up. This thing is harder to raise in me than to put down, to quell with an unrefined manner of violent battering.
Right foot down. It is easier to cast this thing to the ground than to continue carrying this unbearable weight.
Right hand up. It comes to my forehead under my command, this effort is strenuous. The sweat has no end, no relief exists. Dehydration at this point might be a good thing. Maybe then I could save my shirt from the possible threat of arm-pit stains. Maybe I can preserve it’s perfect whiteness.
Left hand down. My shoe has slipped off the back of my ankle. It was clearly an accident, but since he stepped on it, my heel has felt constant pain. (In fact, my heart feels just the same, mildly bruised.) A pinch of blood seeps through my sock, yet I remain unaware. I will discover it later I am sure.
Sometimes not knowing is easier. Sometimes there isn’t enough to be gained in the falsities sold to you, in the lies disguised as truth, in the breaking that comes unloose.
Run, Run and gather it up. Your soul is leaking.

Silent moments in foreign places

2010-09-23T18:48:00.000-07:00

The garden was the start. Just as the flower begins underground wrapped in the warmth of the heat-filled earth, so I began, just a seedling, just a thought of all the things I could become. I've searched for years with no resolution, with all the resolve I could muster. I will find it in myself I said, but now I begin to wonder. I wonder if the seed by itself is enough. Can it grow without water, without sun, without earth? Can love grow without sustenance, passion, and work?
It’s quiet here. I like that. The trees barely rustle, the birds chip, but they leave me to my thoughts. In fact, they add to them. The nature of the thing is its nature itself unselfish, always giving, unrestrained. I seek it in earnest and find it not. Have I done wrong by it? Were my words too harsh? Will it not return to me? I said it because I like to lie to myself, to hide my need for this thing, this beautiful thing, this belonging.
But still the pebbles on the ground seem soft in comparison to my soul, hardened and calloused-over by the “reality” of the world. When will I realize the “reality” is no reality at all? When will I rebel against the traditional social norms set before me? Would he forgive me if I did?
It sounds like rain, it’s time to run and hide again.

Believe in what you once renounced. Hold tight to lost dreams and make them real again.

2010-09-12T16:52:00.000-07:00

You have fought. You have given up. You have found yourself in this in-between, this unsure, waste-filled place. But still, giving up is not an option. Giving up happens far too often, and you are unwilling, UNWILLING to end up like they did. This thing it weighs on you, it beats your soul down, it holds your heart hostage, and you are unable to find yourself, among the disdainful, among the hateful, among the dead.

Beat fast heart, feel alive. You will only live once, you will only feel alive if you wish it into reality. Only you can make this change, only you can fight against the judgment of others and say eff them. I will be who I will be and that is what I will be, regardless.

You love and you love hard. You cry and you hide it. You will stay this way, and you will feel ashamed. Why does your heart have to be so shadowed-over, so hidden, so heartless. When will you face Him? When will you face them? When will you say what you really feel? When will you finally call him near and tell him all the things that you really want to tell him?

You doubt so many things; you believe in so many more. You hurt, you hurt, and you never tell a soul. You fool.

And as you read words you don’t understand, as you fight this battle hand-to-hand, as you see past this public demand for more than you planned to give, you discover more of yourself. You discover that you are so much weaker than you thought; you are so much stronger than you ought to be in some regards, just all the wrong ones. Stubborn soul, for some reason you can never find this balance. For some reason you will never have this solace. Wander, wander far. Never return, never descansar.

Four in the morning comes a little early, but this makes you feel young again.

2010-09-09T01:58:00.000-07:00

...Not that you ever felt old, just that you may have started to grow that mentality of the old, of the same-old-same, the mundane life of “adulthood.” You fight against the norm. You beat your fists against the wall, determined to take this “expectation” face to face, to stare it down. It will become as nothing.
You will become what you want to be.
You will become what you should become.
This has become more than just you. You are just one piece in this billion- plus piece puzzle of humanity, to this world, vast, torn-down, broken.

And as you look on the past, you see all the pieces of your life fit. They just came together, seemingly effortless. But this, oh this won’t be.
You will fight.
You will carve your will into existence.
You will claw your way to this end.
Resignation is unquestionable. Positive self-formation is inevitable.
Now, it is your turn to fit. Now, it is your turn to stand out.

growing up slowly

2010-08-29T18:30:00.000-07:00

Said puppy has been adopted. Although currently not named, she comes home tuesday. I am ecstatic. I am nervous. So this is what responsibility feels like?

Blank pages that need writing...

2010-08-08T10:02:00.000-07:00

Sunny days that render smiles brings about this youthful feeling. It almost makes you think, maybe you aren’t growing old after all. Maybe you are growing young.

Timeless laughs with friends that live far away, but that live close to your heart, makes the physical distance seem insignificant. Oh, wait... it is.

What if they sold true happiness in a bottle? Would they name it Red Bull? Would they sell it for double the price in a convenient store than in the supermarket? I think they would. In fact, they do.

Do you think wearing headphones for 8.6 hours straight is detrimental to your hearing health? Even if you keep the volume down?...well, “down” most of the time anyway.

Have you ever tried to keep your eyes open for over one minute? Your eyes don’t like it all that much, they cry. Maybe you shouldn’t try it, never mind.

Playing air guitar just isn’t as good as playing the real thing. Guitar hero is close, but still not as good. Besides those little plastic buttons do nothing to help you build the necessary calluses to play for hours without stopping. Plastic is made to be recycled, period.

I’m procrastinating, and I like it. I probably won’t like it as much later on though. Oh well.

Buying a watch for yourself and telling the sales woman that it is a gift so that she will gift wrap it is a bad thing, or not? I just really like to open presents, what can I say.

Getting cigars at discount prices because you pretend to be ignorant and in need of advice is fun, especially if the cigar salesman ends up offering you one of your favorites. Call me a secret shopper, but I was just testing him; and well, that man knew his cigars.

It oddly annoys me when people collectively decide that they don’t like someone when they don’t know anything about them. Did they even talk to him? Did they even learn his story? I don’t think they did. I don’t think they cared. Judge quickly, fools; don’t love unconditionally, fine; but I don’t care what you think. They saw what they decided they wanted to see. A shame I say, he was kind.

I’m tired of the judgment of people. I have finally decided I don’t care what they think. If they want to learn me, they will, and if not, they won’t. I can’t change it. I don’t want to. I want to meet the people that want to listen, that will care, that will love- more than anything, love. And I find once again, that love is all that really matters. Oh, quiet heart, you have finally learned.

Not only I...

2010-08-08T02:46:00.000-07:00

Believing with eyes wide shut is often easier than learning to jump while looking down. At least then we can fake the truth and tell ourselves that the distance to the bottom isn’t quite as far as it really is. Who knows, maybe it won’t hurt as much as we think it will to jump head first into this thing, this unabandon, this definite foreseen giving of ourselves to something bigger than we could ever be if we remained alone, detached, and cold.

AND all along you didn’t realize that you had my attention, my affection, my heart. I don’t believe in this ridiculous idea of love, the impractical, the nonsensical. Those are feelings and they will fade, but something that will stay is this volition, this volition to love you at all costs, to fight until I am unable to stand, until my knees have unwillingly retreated to the ground, brought down by defeat, by something greater than this love could bear. But don’t you know that it can bear quite a bit? Don’t you know how big my heart is? Don’t you know it is seeking you out?

And not only my heart by itself... no, that isn’t enough. It will not be able to stand alone, but behind it rests a force greater than you or I. Bigger than anything I could ever hope to be. That love, that love, It is like iron, like honey- strong and sweet. Nothing will break it and nothing will ever refresh you like it will. Even though the pieces are frayed and untied. They represent so much more. They sit and they wait, because they know better than you or I that they will be tied back together and this time it will be stronger than it ever was, this love. And before it was like iron, steel- unbreakable. But nothing is unbreakable you say, and yes, you are right. But don’t you know that almost everything that has been broken can be mended back together again?

And though it still hurts me, and you, we can get past this, this wall, this hindrance. It will become like glass shattered, it will spread as tiny pieces, unable to hold back even water, cold, frost, dust. It will not be able to contain any season, even the least of them, just as He won’t retain our sin, even the least of them, if we just ask Him not to.

secret cities

2010-08-07T00:47:00.000-07:00

You found yourself wandering, no direction, no true goal in mind. You like to wander about, to see a city, to see a people. A city is more than the bricks used to build it, you are well aware. Just as you are aware that people are more than the corporeal shells that they occupy. There is something else, inside, tucked away, attempting to remain safe and away from the hurt of the world. At least that is how you feel.

But of recent you feel a little different then you did previously. You have shown your heart and it hasn’t been rejected. You have shown it and it has been loved, it has been admired, it has been accepted for just what it is, fragile. You find that the previously regularly taken emotion-control-pill that held you back is getting hard to swallow. Good, your prescription was running out anyway, and besides it costs too much.

You feel a little liberated and your heart feels lighter than usual, which seems near impossible considering it’s average level of lightness. Air weighs more you think to yourself.

Regardless, thank you friend for being one of few who occupy my daily thoughts in the quest to better myself. Thank you for being one of many that will forever have my heart.

l'onesta'

2010-08-04T12:31:00.000-07:00

"La paura ci impedisce di vivere e sei troppo giovane per avere questa 'protezione'
sempre davanti a te. Potresti perdere l'occassione di essere felice per questa maledetta paura."

oh amica, hai ragione.

Not yet..

2010-08-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

It hurts, this distance. I just met you and now you’re gone. I just left you and it’s already been too long. I believe I found another part, another part of my heart.

People make you who you are. You see who you want to be in them. You see who you are not. You see what you could become if you put yourself to the task of self-improvement, self-renewal, and self-imbuement with idealistic ideals. And still it points to the self. When will you get beyond it? Never probably, but in this context being selfish isn’t a bad thing. You will turn who you are into helping others and nothing but benefit can come from it. Or so you hope.

And hope you do, continually in fact. Sometimes it seems silly to have so much hope in so little. To believe, to believe in not believing, to not know what to believe, all of which rests in you, completely confident yet unsure. You fight this battle with eyes closed because you can’t see who you are anymore. Certainty has died in you, along with doubt. You remain in the middle, always in the middle. Go somewhere, pick something, become someone already. Please.

But you know, just like I know that I haven’t decided just yet. Not yet. But I will, I promise.

2010-07-31T10:09:00.000-07:00

The cracked facade has had repainting
The orphan boy has had renaming
And still underneath, the same, the same
The hurt, the blame

Remedial practices attempt to piece this together again
Failing altogether to remember the past
The same path taken twice leads to the same place
And again I face the same, the same

Empty empty this head, this heart.
They struggle to rise above
Quick quick this end, this start
They struggle to come undone

The breath is spent
Beyond repair, this tear
Torn loves lost, rent
Too much to bear

Too much to carry alone
Too much to disown
Too much to return home
Too much, too much

If you ask me I’m ready.

2010-05-27T18:57:00.000-07:00

I like very much reading your words smattered upon electronic pages. They show your heart, some of which I’ve seen before and some of which I haven’t. I like seeing the parts you haven’t shown me. They make me smile uncontrollably.

I’m taking it one step at a time and I think I’m getting better from it. If only I could see from two closed eyes, I would be much better off. I can’t seem to find the courage to open them just a bit and finally admit the thing I see when I look in the mirror that is my heart. Though fuzzy and dim-lit it represents you better than anything that you have encountered so far.

It was a funny encounter in the parking lot. You didn’t know you saw me, but you did. You saw a part you probably didn’t imagine existed, but still you didn’t see me and it makes me wonder... what is it exactly that people see when they see you. They see your height, eye color, name brand or lack thereof of the shoes that are currently protecting your feet from the dry dusty earth. But still do they see you.

Do they see your soul and how breakable it is?
Do they see all of the dreams that you have for yourself that are still just dreams, that are too big for you to even let escape from your lips because you are so afraid of failure and never being able to attain them?
Do they see the vastness of the love that you carry around in your heart pocket with you everyday?
Do they know that you just wait for the opportunity to find someone to dole it out to?

Is it too much to ask to meet someone who will say, “ I got you, if you got me. And even when you don’t got me, I still got you.”

Is it too much?

Feeling upside down, unwilling to say what I really feel.

2010-04-18T19:18:00.000-07:00

Unable to think, stopped at a wall, you stand motionless with the exception of the gentle tapping of your left foot on the tiled-floor in rhythm to the music that floats in your head. The same song, seven hours on repeat and you still haven’t gotten sick of it. That is a quality you really like about yourself. Other people overlook it.

Oddly enough you can’t think straight, but you write it all down anyway. Maybe one day it will make sense. Maybe one day the truth will come out. The truth you are the opposite of what you claim to be, that your heart is softer than you make it out to be, that you need someone to love you. But right now that is just not the case. They waste their words; they fall dead before they hit your ears, never to enter, never to seep down from your head into your heart.

You turn pink. He whispered something in your ear. It was far from inappropriate, but you are just that shy. His lips that close to your ear turned you inside out.

Kindly talking behind their back never was wrong; you spoke nothing but good things of them. Too bad you were too scared to say it to their faces. Maybe they would have loved you more, maybe they wouldn’t have left.

Candidly you speak. You shouldn’t, sometimes your words aren’t censored. But now it is too late, and you already let your secret out. You care more than they think you do. You care so much you cry for them when they aren’t there to see you. Your heart can’t take it for much longer. Do something.

Uncomfortable feelings of whiplash are nothing compared to finding all your playing cards in messy piles- don’t they know that you organize them every time before you put them in the box?

Fighting with your eyes closed, fighting all the while. You turn to black sheets of paper with names scribbled out in bright orange colors. Blankets of snow, reflect the sunlight and blind you, you are unable to get past this next hill. It is too steep. It is too steep.

It's you, just you.

2010-04-17T17:19:00.000-07:00

Broken, it’s effortless- beyond the hope of recognition, beyond the scope of comprehension. You take it and it gives. You break it and it bends, and still takes shape, and still makes waste. And if all this was left up to you, you would walk away forever. You would never return. This feeling of hopeful asperation, it remains in the corner of a soul that is loved, and you don’t even have that. You can’t even see past the past. It is ever before you. Always following, reminding, tripping you up.

And if this is what you dreamed of being when you were young, then you dreamed too small.

You didn’t challenge the rules like you said you would. You didn’t make fake the towers of conceit, the lies that defeat, the place of unbroken hate.
You claim.
You claim.
You lie.
You lie.
But this has been put in place and still you aren’t sure you believe it, and still you wish you were stronger, but you are not. You are a face that sheds tears unseen, that turns away from friendship because you are too afraid to lend yourself to something that isn’t you, because you can’t be sure of keeping it whole. It depends too much on them. You can’t see past yourself, you refuse to let people help, you can’t answer all the questions or didn’t you know that? You can’t save face this time. They can see right through you. They told you last night. Instead of change, you decided to hide even further away. You will remain here in this place. And you will be forgotten, because you can’t be remembered for something you weren’t. You can’t be sheltered from all hurt, but you try your damnest. And you fight the thing that gives you life. You defeat yourself. You do it, no one else. No blaming anyone. It’s you, just you.

Complacent confusion

2010-04-06T17:28:00.000-07:00

Take it back summertime. I remember when you wholly belonged to me, when I didn’t care, when I was good without trying, when every thought came easy, when I didn’t feel the need to recognize my romantic self Oh “feelings”, “feelings”, “feelings” I wish you would go away.
And now what? …that gradually growing feeling of complete inadequacy is slowly heaping itself upon my head and soon I won’t be able to breathe. I don’t know if I like it very much. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this life of endless hoops and back road mazes. “Feeling” lost. Why do they get to decide what is right and wrong? Hypocrites, the lot of them. They claim they want you to grow and become more than you are, but is it true growth when they point in only one direction and tell you that you must go that way? I don’t think it is as “liberating” as the claim. I laugh at them, and they don’t know it. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to challenge them to their faces, but for now who am I? What do I know? I think I am with Mann on this one. “It is a fact that there is no society in the world so dumb and hopeless as a circle of literary people who are hounded to death as it is. All knowledge is old and tedious to them. Utter some truth that it gave you considerable youthful joy to conquer and possess- and they will chortle at you for your naïveté…literature is a wearing job. In human society, I do assure you, a reserved and skeptical man can be taken for stupid, whereas he is really only arrogant and perhaps lacks courage. So much for ‘knowledge’.”

This feeling of indifference is not motivational. I can’t see past the second page of this tattered book because the remainder has gone missing. They stand alone, in another room, where unseen eyes guard them every hour. To be beyond this place would be relief, a thing I can’t currently possess. Creep up, creep up, and crush me down, I dare you.

Thoughts of futile endeavors begun with empty words.

2010-03-25T14:41:00.000-07:00

They never carried you far before; what makes you think they will now? Taking and giving never seemed this hard; yet every time you reach out to grab, your fingers don’t function how you wish they would. Instead of gently picking the love from the palm of his hand, you smack it down- spilled on the ground, empty and wasted.

What has this become, this mentality? You can’t seem to let it go, and you won’t even try, you stubborn soul. You feign kindness and love, but least love yourself. You say that isn’t the case, but we know the truth. We know.

You are so unwilling, and I am tired of trying to make you care. Stay still, breathless; I don’t care. Go far from this place and never return; I don’t care. Tear down these bridges of beautiful memories; I don’t care. But finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.

“I’ve faced the same and walked out alive,” you heard her whisper underneath propped-up sheets, a flimsy tent that sags in the middle, a slight representation of your soul, seemingly strong but able to be blown into nothingness if a strong-enough wind presents itself.

Take it for what it isn’t.
Leave it for what it is.
Break the broken until nothing remains.
Grieve for what you cannot love anymore.
Finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.

I couldn’t have prepared myself for this fall, shattered in pieces curled on the floor.

2010-02-06T11:33:00.000-08:00

You were never where you needed to be- always away, never near, hiding in the dark corners of your heart. You never let the sunshine in, never showed him what you wanted to become, and so he never learned you. And to this day you regret all the words you never said, all the times you never shared wrapped in his arms underneath the covers sharing softly-spoken secrets. But lighting doesn’t strike the same place twice. True love is a gift and you let it drift away.

Maybe next time you will think twice before you throw it all away.

c'e'... non c'e'

2010-02-02T19:12:00.000-08:00

Oh enough quiet heart…. I wish you would be louder. I wish you would see deeper, I wish you would feel more. But go ahead, back into the corner, where you know that you are safe, protected from the outside, protected from the hate.

You give advice you do not follow and where does it leave you? “Whole” you say and “Half of what you could become,” he adds quickly after. I’m confused and the rubble surrounding me won’t let me see my way out safely. I climb and climb and stay in the same place unsure of the cost, unsure of my fate.

But take it by the hand just this once and find a way to shake these thoughts; they hold you down, they crack your foundations from the inside out, until nothing would be able to stand. Oh enough quiet heart…

And well this is what we became…. An empty room with no chairs to rest on.

2010-01-30T20:19:00.000-08:00

Monday, January 18 made me think twice.

I think it has been far too long since I last met myself. When did I get this busy? When did extraneous things become so important? Four letters and a remixed tune brought me back. And here I am again. I couldn’t find the key for the longest time, and I found I had to break in just to catch a glimpse of what I used to be.

Romping about through invisible snow still leaves me feet soaking wet

2010-01-29T21:51:00.000-08:00

Strap them on, the boots for blistery weather. No matter how much you prepare the flurries still seep in, and you find your socks steadily growing damp. So you trek back to the house, change them, and head back out. This time the outcome is the same. The subtle chill in the cracks between your toes brings this to your attention. Again you return and change. By the end, you have found that you have travelled back and sought change more than a dozen times now.

This time you double up, two pairs masterfully attached to your limbs by blue waterproof duct tape. And although this time it takes a little bit longer, after a while, your waterlogged socks make a squishy noise with every step you take. What more will it take? Should I stay inside, ignoring the call of nature? Should I stay in, alone, and sustain myself with a well-built fire? You ponder this for a while with your elbows resting on your knees and your head propped up by your hands as you sit teetering on the edge of your blanket-laden bed.

A knock comes to your door and you think to yourself, “Who else would be out in this weather?” As you make your way across your living room the sunshine peeking in through a crack in the pulled-shut drapes catches your attention. You gently crack the door open and peer outside, the postal man stands on your door step dressed in his finest pair of postal shorts and a short sleeved shirt. He has a bright yellow smiley face pin attached too his lapel. He looks at you bewildered by the presence of your winter clothes layered one upon the other. He chuckles to himself as he informs you kindly that the temperature today is a lovely sun-filled 73 degrees, “and well isn’t it nice?” You play if off of course, informing him that you "just got these and wanted to try them on" because you are ecstatic about an up coming ski trip in a few months. You lied and he believed you.

You have always lied, and for the most part they have always believed you. The truth is you have never set foot outside of your front door. You have never been out in nature, you have never even tried. You have just lied and lied and lied, until you finally believed it yourself. When will you stop? When will you realize the snow had never come and that it has always been a mild 73 degrees? And as this realization sets in you slowly work open the package with no return address that the postman has delivered. You smile to yourself as you pull out a set of flip flops from underneath the packing peanuts. You slip them on and for once in your life you give it a chance. And as you swing the door wide and step outside, you feel truly alive for the first time in your life. And this time, there is no turning back.

Il tempo ha arrivato per costruire i muri tutt'intorno il mio cuore.

2009-11-26T08:01:00.000-08:00

I hate this feeling that I get when I think of you. This feeling of loss, of emptiness because you aren’t here. And I thought I was doing so well, far from you, I didn’t have to bring your name up in conversation. But still you seem to find me, to seek me out, when the whole time I just want to forget you. I want to forget you because I love you in the worst way possible, and even typing these words makes my heart hurt all over again. I can’t seem to escape you, and I can’t ever have you. So now I sit in helpless silence once again fighting back these feeling that spawned from a nearly lost hope. Sadly this hope can never find fulfillment, and I will remain here, alone, without you. Some things just aren’t worth having if the price you pay is losing everything else.

Ti ho perso, e di te non parlero' mai.

Boxing Shadows in a Windowless Room

2009-11-05T20:29:00.000-08:00

Goodness gracious. You sit right across from me and still you remain out of my grasp. Am I this unfortunate in finding this thing? This love? But still I can’t say I know you, I can’t say I know what your heart feels, what your mind thinks, what you want to become. But I will say, if you will tell me I will be able to either put these lost feelings to rest or I will give you my whole heart entirely. Don’t you see love is risky? Love makes us vulnerable, opens us up to possible feelings of pain. But that risk is nothing if you go all in, if you set all your chips on the table to find that in the end you and you alone remain with the best possible "hand." And this game, this game you play called love has just been won by the five cards sitting unmoved in your hand. And those cards turn into fingers that connect to a hand that joins you to the arm of the person you love. And in this you find what you have been looking for. In this you find that risk doesn’t always end in loss. In this you find the reality of true love. That it is unwavering, steadfast, not easily shaken, deeper than the shallowness of feelings, stronger than the force that rages against it, and more than you could have ever asked it to be. This is love at its core. This is what melts the hardest hearts of stone. This is what fills the emptiest emptiness. This is what changes the world.

Changing seasons...

2009-10-14T15:12:00.000-07:00

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.

Directionally challenged, Diminutive dysfunction, and Dynamite.

2009-10-12T17:54:00.000-07:00

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! :)

Oh dear friend, gentle heart.

2009-10-03T13:59:00.001-07:00

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

2009-10-03T13:59:00.000-07:00

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

I thought I thoroughly customized my request for a new pair of shoes and a level of maturity that I cannot currently attain of my own volition.

2009-09-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

Watch them. They are so easily pleased, so horribly content in normalcy, and so often unaware of your watchful gaze. And I am just an aunt. I wonder how my brother feels. His heart must be exploding. I wonder exactly what age is the age of realization, when you can look in your parent’s eyes and tell them thanks for all they did and thanks for all they still do. When you realize even 1/4th of their love for you is really all you need, but still they give you more. They give you all they have. I don’t know if I can be as giving as my parents are. I don’t know if I can overcome me (I’m a little stubborn at times). But I’ll tell you a little secret if you really want to know. One day, I hope to win.

I say that but I don’t know if I really mean it, or if I really even know what I mean, or if I am temporarily blinded by semi-enthusiastic love. I don’t even know if it matters much, if this continual ever-changing pattern of wind will ever find itself forcefully blowing me in a permanent direction. Right now, I guess it doesn’t really matter much, because the ending is the only carrier of prominent weight. Too bad my view is just fuzzy enough to hinder foresight. Poop.

I thought I saw a puppy in the clouds today. He was running, much like me. Fleeing should be the word that I use, only because of its connotation. I feel I am fleeing more than facing this situation, but I don’t know if my own decision will come back to haunt me, to chase me into the older years of my life, to see me standing looking in the mirror with only one reflection. No companion. No other. No nothing.

Still I am utterly content. I am unbelievably happy. I am unwavering in becoming this love. In finding more than the tip of my finger in someone’s face. In finding someone else’s fingertip hovering inches from my nose. I hope she understood exactly what I meant to say when I described this alternate viewpoint. I hope she just accepts it as it is instead of trying to justify it or try to pick it apart. Isn’t that what we so often do with His love when we should just be simply accepting it. Goodness, why do we complicate these simple things?

I am addicted and I am not afraid to admit it. Yes, indeed I am counting down to 9-29-09. I think about it everyday. Yep, I just admitted the depth of this obsession. I love to admit personal lameness. Somehow it is funny to me. I laugh at myself. Sometimes I call myself names. But I know I can take it. It is just my form of personal motivation.

I have always been told, by myself mind you, that I have somewhat of an addictive personality. I also have discovered that I am a habit former. I like routine. It is relaxing. It is organized. It pushes me to become more dedicated. And if anything it makes my spontaneity a little bit more, well spontaneous. And festive. And fun. And crazy. And fill-in-the-blank. Pretty much a lot of different things.

When I break, I break. I think it is true when it comes to trust. Maybe not relationships so much, I am not too well versed in that ball of complicatedness. Honestly, I think people make it more complicated than it really is. Love isn’t complicated, it is easy. Dying to self is what trips people up really. Love isn’t selfish in the least. I guess maybe I should try to apply that line of thought to trust. Wouldn’t I become better from it? I think I would. Damn you fear! You keep me from something beautiful, from something wholly beneficial. Maybe one day when I break, I will break big time, but I am willing to risk it if I could just find someone else who wants to put all their chips in. Cause that’s the only way I am going to play this love game.

Thoughts Untamed

2009-09-03T18:24:00.000-07:00

And I fell once into an open plain.
And I found myself unmoving, insane.
Be still these thoughts that break from the mundane.
They make me wonder if I can stand this same old same.
This over repetition of the unmasked blame.
Of the self proclaiming stares of unmasked shame.

I belittled the thought for a moment.
Sought closure, but never owned it.
Derived from hints and shown bits
The truth of this annulment.
And still I avoid it.
And now I am void of it.

In these moments that stand still
I can see my heart transparently ill
Seeking something more than this false will
That drives me forward unfilled
And takes this whole of a heart unskilled
And brings it back to life, unkilled.

Now I sit and I write.
Filled with undying spite.
Looking to chase the darken night
Away with manufactured light.
Replacing that, which I cannot find anymore.
It hides its face in this horrible blur
And still I am this question-filled cur.
Indecisive, never established, always unsure.

Growing up was easy. Growing out of my comfort zone is becoming really difficult.

2009-08-23T17:50:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow school starts.
One word description: Daunting
How I feel: Afraid
What I want to do: Run away
What I will do: Face it, make mistakes, grow, become what I've always wanted to be, and love every second of it.

Sometimes you have to come face to face with your fears.
Good thing I've been keeping my pimp hand strong. :)

I run ahead blindfolded, and I finally see what I was meant to see.

2009-08-18T15:32:00.000-07:00

Take away these thoughts of insolent arrogance. Take away the broken pieces that currently hang off me. I don’t want to drag them along anymore. I want to fly.

I want to believe without seeing all of the time. It is getting harder as I grow older. I don’t like that so much.

I’m driven by my emotions more than I would like to admit. I realize it, and still I deny it. I don’t want to be this vulnerable thing that I really am. I don’t want them to see it, but I haven’t figured out exactly why. What is this that is driving me? This horrid pride keeps me bound.

After it all, I sigh deep and can do nothing but smile, because that is where my heart is- in a constant state of smile. Yes, even when I’m sad, it smiles back at me. When I am in my foulest of moods and don’t want it to, still it smiles back. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I am so thankful for that.

I am reaping what I sow- a life of non-commitment. When will you dare to change?
When will you dare utter someone else’s name the way you wish they uttered yours?
When will you chance it, you coward, you fraud.

And still I spur myself forward wishing to be more than I am.

Taking it for what it is.

2009-08-12T18:24:00.000-07:00

And I have come to see such a different place, such a different mapping than I had originally sketched for this life. And set beside myself I cannot recognize what I once was. I was a bundle of fear; though it still exists to some extent, its far-reaching hand has been beaten back, driven into a deeper part of my self-conformation.
I strive to see just a little bit of me that I can recognize. Finally, I succeed. And the thing that draws this recognition is my heart that has remained unchanged. Unchanged in the best way possible. It is still soft, still willing to learn. Still willing to love at all costs. And don’t they know this love is more than the think it is?
I make plans to be unbreakable. But at what cost? Is this self-sacrifice really lending itself to fortitude, to an unbreakable thing. Or to an inescapable ignorance?
These thoughts come easier than they used to. Now I just sit and think, and the words find their way onto the page. Beneficial? Maybe, but I couldn’t say always. Some things- certain doubts, certain fears- I would very much prefer stay hidden. But now they creep out, undaunted by the fact that they could be discovered, that they could be reproached, that they could be judged. They are braver than I will ever be. If they stood materialized in front of me, I would embrace them, because I love them. I love that they are stronger than I am.
Darkness has finally settled and I have come to the conclusion that personal struggle is very difficult for me. Mainly because I refuse many people entry into my heart and therefore must deal with hardship on my own. I try to lean mostly on myself. I have been successful but I feel I am wearing down. I feel I need more from my friendships than I am currently getting. And that isn’t to say the fault is that of my friend’s. If anything I blame myself. But how do I change this? How do I revisit this thing? How do I not end up breaking myself. I guess I just have to let go.

It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s alright.

2009-07-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

This is one of the hardest things I have ever faced. And now that I am in the midst of it, it seems overwhelmingly difficult- unable to be overcome. But this lie that creeps up is just that. A lie. A misstep. A confusing concoction of unequivocal falsehood. And still I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it.

These thoughts are far to outreaching, untamable. I wish only to sit with a blank expression on my face until I am able to find the time to retrace this path that has evidently led to nowhere- a vast place of heartache and lost things. Lost feelings. Lost desires. Lost loves. And still I wish only to lose more. To lose these self- constructed walls that block me. Losing personal standards would be much easier. But where would that get me? Would I regret it like I think I would? Or would I see it simply as a lesson learned after all is said and done? I think I would see it as something that I have finally faced and walked through; and even if I come out battered, I would know that I did it. I walked through and I am not dead.

This sheltered mentality is suffocating me. Is this what He meant for me to do? How He meant for me to live? It is hard to think the answer would actually be yes.
Am I allowed to apologize now in advance for something I may do in the future? They say no, but still I consider it. Apparently, I am worse than they think I am. But, my God, I am only human.

This end is unforeseeable.

“A life perfect ain’t perfect if you don’t know what the struggle’s for. Falling down ain’t falling down if you don’t cry when you hit the floor. It’s called the past, cause I’m getting past and I ain’t nothing like I was before. You ought to see me now. Yes I was burned, but I’ve called it a lesson learned. Mistake overturned so I’ve called it a lesson learned. My soul has returned so I’ve called it a lesson learned. “ A.Keys.

And I saw a bit of myself in a hazy imagination

2009-07-27T09:23:00.000-07:00

Fault-filled failures follow me everywhere. Yet still I live in this acceptance. This love that is unconfined. This love that heals the blind hearts of men and makes them more than they are. It is gradually becoming more difficult to turn my thoughts from this ideal. But it is not a bad thing. Beneficial and balanced I say. Upside-down and uncontrolled they say. Yet their words do not phase me. I am undaunted by this simple task. It is so easy. And still I may be wrong. I may live incorrect but this is the manner in which my heart drives me. The end result which will build up and not tear down. Where are your accusers He said. They are not here, and neither do I condemn you. So what has this become this view of judgmental arrogance. This pointing of pointer fingers and heavy sighs accompanied my gentle downward-facing shakes of the head. Who am I to say anything? Just as they dropped their stones one by one and left, so I leave. Knowing that I can only seek inside myself to be aware of my own faults. Why seek the mistakes of others? To feel better about myself? There is no need. I feel better about myself resting in the knowledge of who I am, who I am becoming, and whom I belong to. My mind is still struggling a bit, but I would dare say that He is all I need. That He is who I wish to become. Not a judgmental thing, but Love, a Love so wholly embodied, personified and life-giving. This is what I want to be. This is who I will continue to become.

And quite frankly, I will never know why.

2009-07-25T20:37:00.000-07:00

I fell into a river muddied with dirt and caught my reflection staring back at me from the small pool confined in the palms of my dirt-smattered hands. Sadly, the murky water was cleaner than I was. And I am this sinful thing, but still He redeems me.

Take it slow. These things needn’t be rushed. Time will reveal the unseen. Love alone will heal this broken heart, because, honestly, nothing else can.

I found it... if just for this short time.

2009-07-08T10:16:00.000-07:00

I've found it- this peace I was seeking.
My heart isn't as confused, it just is.
It is love, and I will rest in this for now.
I will discover the answers without seeking.
I will break this off of me- it is far too hindering.
So I've let it go. It is gone, and Love resides in its place- safe and warm.

This is too much to handle calmly.

2009-07-03T22:16:00.000-07:00

You asked me to travel a far distance with you in order to see your current better half. I lied and said I couldn’t. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just wasn’t able.

I didn‘t eat much today. I felt sick to my stomach most of the day whenever I thought about those questions that I asked you, the words I should not have said. I semi-talked to you about it, because you wanted to know. I didn’t want to tell you, so I didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I did, because I think I might have tried. But for now, I just want to sleep.

I think it will be quite a while until I figure this one out- to tell, not to tell; to hurt, not to hurt; to be rejected, to not be rejected. The question looming over my head brings unbelievable heartache. The impending result of action ensures permanent repercussions. So much for a rock and a hard place. That would have been easy. GAH.

I don’t believe like I used to, and maybe this is bad. I would say I am sorry, but I don’t know if I should. I wonder if God stops loving people? And sure they say he doesn’t, but I feel like in this case his hand may be hovering over the book of life, at the ready, prepared to cross out my name. I probably shouldn’t say such things, but this is what my head is thinking now, so I write it.

I feel unbelievably alone, with absolutely no one. Surely He never faced this hardship. So does He understand? Really, I need to meet with Him for a bit. Maybe then He will explain why this sort of thing happens. Why I am the one left in this situation, when I never asked for this? Why? God, why?

I'm the one that loses.

2009-07-02T06:49:00.000-07:00

I want my chance. I want to give this thing a shot.

But no matter what I do, I'm the one that loses.

I break my heart so I don't break theirs. It's not fair. It hurts.

Uncertian desires make for an uncertian heart.

2009-06-28T23:56:00.000-07:00

I'm wanting this.
I'm wanting to fail.
I'm wanting sideways judgemental glances.
I'm wanting rejection.
I'm wanting respite.
I'm wanting to break this.
I'm wanting to shake this off.
I'm wanting to taper this a bit to fit me tighter.
I'm wanting to fly.
I'm wanting to feel lighter.
I'm wanting to lift this burden from my shoulders.
I'm wanting to be bogged down by love.
I'm wanting to get lost in this.
I'm wanting to be willing to wait in vain.
I'm wanting to say your name before the phrase "I love you."
I'm wanting to not think anymore.
I'm wanting a greater feeling of hope.
I'm wanting to cope.
I'm wanting to fall.
I'm wanting to break all the rules.
I'm wanting more time to decide.
I'm wanting a greater feeling of life inside.
I'm wanting a better form of understanding.
I'm wanting a bigger view of true love.
I'm wanting to feel more.
I'm wanting to heal my heart.
I'm wanting too much.
I'm wanting to stop wanting.
I'm wanting what I cannot have.

I'm confused and don't really know what I want anymore. And I try to think more specifically, to narrow this thought process down. But in the end it all comes down to you and the confusion that you make me feel. It all comes down to this moment of truth. And still I sit with my lips pursed, refusing to move.

The hardest thing I'd ever do.

2009-06-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

I am so willing to be utterly honest with you, to answer every question you will ever ask. It isn’t you I fear, it is everyone else standing within earshot of this seemingly private conversation. So let’s find a place, quiet and still, where I can say the words that my mind thinks, the feelings that my heart feels.

The things I never said but should have.

2009-06-15T09:27:00.000-07:00

Unwritten letters, they are written in the dark. They write themselves on the pages of my ever-hiding heart.

Who are you? You, beautiful soul, you break the rules. You make me choose. You make me question who I am.

I scribble. The nearly illegible handwriting causes my eyes to strain in a vain attempt to discover the meaning behind these dismal symbols- these letters. It is bad enough that the ultimately discovered words still hide meaning.

I dabble. These thoughts should not be reckoned with, yet I entertain them, if only a little.

What is this? This unbound courage that seeks to break this fear. Where did it come from? I sure didn’t conjure it up of my own accord. It drives me to the darkest places where I hide my fears the most. I come face to face with my own disgrace and attempt lay these fears to waste.

Perfect calm. It guides the sea, the immensity that rages within me. The gentle lapping of the tiny waves seem unrecognizable, a sizable change from the previous battering. I welcome the dawn, the shining reflection of the sun upon the sea represents this new point of view- renewed, brilliant and unwaveringly consistent.

I fight the force that force-feeds me these lies disguised as sustenance. Stones disguised as bread. Salt disguised as water. Lust disguised as love. Heartache disguised as hope.

Enamored I sit undisturbed, untouched by this movement around me. I am bold enough to say the truth. I am scared enough to lie. I mix the two, intertwined, underlining one of my many faults. But would you love me through them. Would you be the one who breaks this perception by sacrificing all you have just to love me regardless? Because I would do the same for you, if you would just let me.

Billowy trees reflect my heart- seemingly so often and easily swayed. Yet, it is stronger than it looks.

2009-06-14T23:05:00.001-07:00

The first steps are the hardest, but then you grow used to the change and see the reward that comes from the struggle-filled effort. I have found that these words have escaped my mouth before, but before they were muffled, barely inaudible. Hard to discern in the worst way possible, because I refused to let them accurately describe the feelings in my heart. It has been a lie from the beginning, because I am scared to death to even hint at the truth. This truth that I am utterly confused but don’t plan on becoming this. That I can’t stop these dreams that follow me, nor can I stop the feeling of joy that I have when I wake up and realize that I lived out that possibility, if just for a moment; and I don’t care if it wasn’t real, because it felt real, you felt real. That happened two nights ago, but I can’t be what I wish I could be.

I love you, I miss you, and I barely even know you.

I stand at the door to my house and stare at my feet. I don’t quite wish to enter because I fear the person on the other side. I fear the person who points their finger at me raging against me, against my dreams. I fear being a pariah, feeling unaccepted, but I have finally learned to just be myself and not concern myself with the rest of all this rubbish. I believe in myself, and I am proud to admit it. Not in a haughty way, but in the sense of self-discovery in its best achievable form.

Brace yourself. This is just the beginning. This will make you who you will become.

And when I write, I speak my heart. I speak respite.

2009-06-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

Mildly disguised things hidden in my heart- that is the source of these thoughts. This is the blank canvas on which I shall paint my masterpiece. My heart and my mind form the color, the shading, the texture; bringing a form of art previously unseen, unexposed. The words take shape and create movement. This imagination works overtime, but realistically seeks a medium for vent halation. This is good for me. Only once the smoke clears, will I be able to see unhindered.

I watched a movie today. It only furthered my disbelief. This is a hard notion to escape when you see it constantly lived out in real life. It is hard to discredit when it is proven multiple times a day, every day of the year, every year of your currently short-lived life. Why do we have to find this thing to be happy, can’t we find fulfillment and love within ourselves and in who He is?

Today I met a puppy. My friend proudly dubbed it Cocoa. The name suited not the appearance, but the warm heart of the little guy. Must we be so quick to judge with our eyes?

Bittersweet revelation followed me from the pet store.
Sweet relief softened my heart a tiny bit more.
And still, I attempt to take a small step forward.

I fought a pigeon for his last breadcrumb. Unfortunately, I lost.

2009-06-12T07:06:00.000-07:00

And what good does this bring, this absence of heart, this empty feeling? It makes me realize I can make it without you, but I would much rather not. I would much rather see you daily, hear your thoughts, and learn your heart more than you usually let people learn it. But I can’t, and well, I fear you won’t let me. It is because you know that I am hiding something. Perhaps you think it is lack of trust that drives me not to tell you this thing, but I trust you a great deal. This time it’s true when I say, “It isn’t you; it’s me.”

I am still too chicken to do this, to knowingly await this impending judgment. It is the only thing that will occur; I am not stupid.
I am still too unwilling to do this, to risk this thing for such a great uncertainty. I can’t say that this is what I really want; I never desired this thing before.
I am still too cynical to do this, to believe that “love” could be enough this time. Because my love and your love are two different loves, and well if one side fails the whole thing falls apart. And knowing me, I will be the one holding on as you walk quietly away.

People give up far too easily. Why can’t we really mean it when we make promises? Is it too hard? Are we too afraid of the foreseeable hurt that we ditch at the first opportunity to do so? At least that way we won’t have to see it through, to really risk our hearts.

With that said, I promise I will always love you, even if it isn’t the way I wish it could be. Know this, you will always, always have my heart.

This wayward path it winds us about; and honestly, I’m getting dizzy.

2009-06-10T22:10:00.000-07:00

I sat on a pile of sand afraid that the small granules would somehow creep into my pants, that they would irritate me. I glanced at the sky and when I did, these meaningless thoughts left my mind. I was enamored of a sight that brought out something in me. The sight of the moon’s luminescence reflecting off the ocean’s surface made a calm rise up within me, it brought peace to a war laden, torn, and heavy heart.

I made a feeble attempt at a picture, but my eyes and my mind captured the scenery much better. How miniscule those grains of sand became as they shrank under the enormity of the star-filled sky above. They seemed nearly irrelevant in comparison to this greater thing. Sometimes I focus too much on the unimportant things in life. However, I find that I somehow get pulled back to where everything is placed into perspective. I am glad for this. Now, I see a bigger picture, a greater end; but I still very much fear failure and regret.

Living uninhibited it hard for me sometimes, I like to plan things out to know what will happen next. But I am getting better with not knowing, with going with the flow, with either having failure or success. I can’t win them all. No one can.
All I can do is try my best, 100 percent effort.
All I can do is push forward with a smile, regardless of the outcome.
All I can do it love, no matter if they love me back, no matter what they say or do, no matter if they harm my heart. Cause that is what He did/does for me.

I bent my knees and with a small amount of force lifted myself from the sand. I shoved my balled-up hand into my pocket to rest. Amongst my jingly change I felt it, the sand, quite a bit of it. I soon discovered that wasn’t the only place it had crept into, but surprisingly enough, my feelings didn’t match my forecasted sentiments. Irritation didn’t come, and I realized this small thing didn’t really matter much anymore. The importance of the matter had come and left, as fleeting as the consistent reoccurring feelings for you, which have plagued my heart this past year. But still I wish to feel them, to live with these messed up ideals, to learn from this no matter how much it might destroy me. Because even if I am destroyed, I can rebuild; and I know that it will be bigger and better than ever before, this love.
Eager anticipation is my friend.
Fear is my crutch.
Hope is my driving force.
Love is everything.
It still is, and well, it always will be.

And I told you for the second time not to love me. You never listen. I love you for that.

2009-06-02T17:00:00.000-07:00

I am walking backwards with ease, finding this newness different. My eyes are of no use. They only see what has been; only my heart can imagine what could be.
I dream. I dream. I dream.

Realized dreams are little pieces of me lived out to their fullness, come alive through struggle and sweat, through hope and faith, through mere chance which oddly enough seems perfectly planned.
Planned chance? And the confusion rises again.

Endless struggle attempts to break me from these romantic ideals, but still I believe in them. Silly fool. You are just like the others, the ones you claim not to resemble. The ones you fight so strongly against. You are going to fall hard and you know it. But still you repress and still you hide, lying all the while to protect your heart. It is more fragile than they think. So breakable.

This will become a new thing, this false disbelief. Will someone please prove me wrong? Will someone please stand inches from my face and make me realize there is more. There is a better that has no painful end, no emptiness, no loss of heart.
So would you leave it, never risk it, never become the vulnerability that you very much want, but very much fear?

Dear man, good heart… no.

As if I would be gone tomorrow.

2009-05-27T02:55:00.000-07:00

Be still heart. You feel too much.
Be still mind. You attempt to solve the impossible.
Be still life. You run me about in circles.
Be still. Be still. Be still.

The best is yet to come. That is what they told me once. It is all ahead of you, so bright, so full of possibilities. And now I have become plopped in the middle of it unsure of the end result, uncertain of my abilities to succeed. But still I press forward as hope gently nudges me from behind.

I don’t become introspective around this time of year as many people do. I am introspective all the time. I consider this next phase a year in advance, sometimes two, sometimes ten. Always considering. Always wondering. Yet, always living, not hindered by this daunting thing. This continual ending. A continual ending that only begins an unending thing. But that is no excuse to not live now, to not consider these moments as valuable, to not use this time wisely. This breakdown is continually building me up, encouraging me to push forward, to migliorarmi.

And I will live it, without any regrets, without any disappointments, without anything but love.

Life is beautifully different when you see it from someone else’s viewpoint.

2009-05-16T23:15:00.000-07:00

I keep finding these people. These beautiful people who are passionate about this and that. Beautiful people who just want to tell someone what they think, what they feel, and why they are what they are. I love it when people muster up the courage to say what they really think. She told me things she hasn’t even told to her friend, she whispered to me as she pointed to one sitting next to her. I liked it. But why was she afraid of hiding?

And so this judgment comes back to haunt us in the worst way possible.

When did we get to the point that we are perfectly ok with telling strangers deeper things than we tell our friends solely because we fear what our friends will think of us? We question whether they would still accept us, whether they would still love us- just as we are, bruised and broken, with a wavering certainty that leaves us wondering more times than it leaves us convinced and sure. Aren’t friends the ones who help you through things like this? When did we get this way?

A friend once asked me who I spoke of when I said “ Ma io voglio che tu lo sai, che mi chiedi tutto quello che vuoi sapere.” My answer was not a complete lie. Yah sure I had a certain person in mind at the time, but I think it is applicable most to my friendships. I want to be able to tell my friends everything. But just like her I hide things from my friends because I fear a little. I am afraid of changing things irreparably. I am afraid I will lose them. Losing friends is like losing part of your heart; it hurts. And I don’t deal with hurt well.

This is such a hard thing to balance.

I want to find a good friend, make a mutual promise with them to be absolutely honest about everything, the things hidden deepest inside our hearts, the things we think we can tell no one about, and even the things we don’t want to be honest about. That kind of vulnerability is what I want. I am willing to put myself into a position to get effed over, if just to have one true friend that I can trust completely. I’ve always struggled with trust. I fear it may be difficult to find someone who will actually commit to do that, someone willing to love me no matter what. People don’t like being vulnerable. I know this cause I don’t either. But if we can just make this about love and not about us, it will work. I know it will.

Nothing stands as it once did.

2009-05-15T23:37:00.000-07:00

I believed in you. I believed in me.
I used to believe, but now I see
the end stands just feet in front of me.

I tried and I failed. I tried again.
This thought of breathing, this thought of sin
This thought is slowly winning within.

How has it come to this, this bliss, this pain?
Wrapped into one, fighting each other in vain
Making sense of this blotched black spot
Breaking sense through my far reaching thought

With certainty on my lips I speak into the dark
With doubt in my mind I break my soul
With hope in my heart I bend my will
And force this heart to feel, to feel.

Please understand that it is not what you think. I am not who I say I am. I have become lost inside of myself and I am unable to discover the truth. I am unable to face this hardship. I am unwilling to watch my heart bleed. I will protect it at all costs. I will see the demise of my soul before I will allow my heart to be broken by this thing. So I will keep silence close and a fake smile ever ready.

Delightful moments with friends make life worthwhile.

2009-05-14T00:21:00.000-07:00

Random dancing.
Uncontainable laughter.
Pure acceptance.
Love. --------------------------Just a few things that evenings with friends bring.

Goodness, I know some beautiful people. I love them and mere words will/could never do these sentiments justice. I am sure of it.
Sure, I sound cheesy, but I don’t care. How else could one explain this love? Besides cheesy has a certain appeal, right?

There are unspoken words that follow me everywhere I go. Held deep in the smallest caverns of my heart. Held only for me, so yes, I understood when you said what you said. I of all people try to hide the most. Hiding is easier, you know. But I think I am learning that sharing is much more liberating, fulfilling, hard as fucking hell. But still I go forward attempting to better myself in every way possible. Sure it will be difficult and it will come slow, if at all. But maybe this is a way I could break these shadowy doubts of untrustworthiness that have followed me all these years. It is crazy how a few big disappointments can hinder you so much. Maybe I have begun to use it as my crutch of disbelief. When will you learn to trust again? When will you learn that burns eventually heal? When will you be willing to give it all you’ve got? When?
Take a moment. Decide. I will wait for my heart to figure this out.
I will wait as long as it takes.

I should have known it would be this simple.

2009-05-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

I think I have discovered more about myself than I ever planned to in such a short amount of time. I love to see a somewhat congruent shape form from the mass of uncertainty-filled clay that is my heart and mind.

I love to write. To write what is in my heart, to see it play out on the page, simple yet personally meaningful. I will remember so much because of this. I don’t think I do it for anyone else but me, but I would still want people to read these little experiences, thoughts, because what if it helps them get through the same situations that it has helped me with, the same doubts, fears. That alone would make me happy.

I find I often write about the same thing over and over. Love, caring for people, simple happiness, uncertainty, the desire to become something more, but they are the things that rest most on my mind. Embedded somehow in the subconscious, brought out by words and actions.

And to my perpetual letter-writing friend, you have made me better because you have shown me your heart, my heart, and what I could become.

Without you, I'm giving it away.

2009-05-11T15:46:00.000-07:00

I have built up a wall to block you away, to fight you off. I have made it with the thickest of cement blocks and wired the top with barbed wire. Yet still you find a way around. You alone get through to me. I hate it, but not you. Never you. In fact, I adore you.

I do things I never planned if just to let you know how much you mean to me. All you have to do is ask and I will be there, you know. Maybe now you have begun to see it. Maybe now I will find the courage I am so desperately lacking. Maybes never mean much do they? Because maybe I will stay here in this unexplainable state, afraid of your reaction, afraid of my future action, afraid of missing this opportunity, afraid of being judged for this, afraid of being afraid. Or maybe I won’t. The possibilities of the “maybe” are far too many to wade through and discern with ease. So I struggle. Oh where will I begin? When will this end? When will this heart cease to feel this way? When will it finally feel more?

This sucks ass.

“By the way you brought me here, it makes me believe the best is still yet to come
and I don't want to leave. Forgive my hesitation- oh, but I'm learning to trust in you.You've introduced me to the moment, oh but I'm looking to stay for good. If you'd be honest and say what you mean you know I would promise I'd do anything. I know there's a reason. I'm in this too deep and I'm sure that without you, I'm giving it away.”

And for the second time I thought this struggle had died within me. I was wrong.

2009-05-08T11:51:00.000-07:00

I do not see clearly anymore. My heart and head have become so confused by this mental and emotional state of wonderment- wonderment in the fact that I never saw this coming. I never pictured this for myself. But now that the picture has begun to form, I do not hate it. I should. But I don’t. I am the worst of the worst, no better than the least of the least and I don’t know what to do about it.

These feelings are hell. These thoughts consume me and I cannot escape them. I don’t know what to do, whom to turn to. Surely He has already left me. His love cannot be this great can it? This small voice tells me it can’t be. My mind tells me it has to be or He would not be who He says He is. My soul tells me He still loves me. My conscience tells me I am slipping. My heart tells me this is the real deal. My heart betrays me and rages against all else. I am left to remain here in this confusion, in this doubt, unable to crawl out of this pit, unwilling to fight it wholly because I want to feel. I want to feel this way and have it reciprocated. And the possibility, though minute, has finally presented itself in a manner I never expected.

But still I remain in this agony, cause I don’t know if I am strong enough for this, if I can face this alone, if anyone will be here to help me, if anyone will truly love me through this. So I sit and I write, if only to get these thoughts out of this prison that is my mind, if only to face this situation a little more directly, if only to release this stress that has formed and is blocking my heart. I am lost I fear. I am eaten wholly by this fear. I am so afraid of this. I am so afraid of me.

Beautiful Diversions are fun.

2009-05-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

I see beauty where there is confusion. Life where there is death. Hope in the collapsed rubble of a heart. I must make myself look past the obvious if just to keep my sanity.

I enjoy finding the positive in things. Life would suck if I didn’t. I can’t even imagine how someone could live with negativity 24/7. All it does is drag out, beat down, and disenable. People could become so much more if they would use their hearts instead of their minds.

I never thought I would say this. I enjoy Facebook stalking you. It hurts when you speak of someone else when I don’t have the nerve to raise my voice above a mere indiscernible whisper that I would refuse to repeat even if I were caught mumbling something under my breath. But still I love to listen, if just to discover more of your heart.

I don’t know what to think anymore, so I won’t try.
I don’t know what to do anymore, so I won’t act.
I don’t know what to say anymore, so I will let silence rule me.
I have permanently lost my mind. I am sure of it.
Crap.

Unusual moments. I wish they happened more often.

2009-05-03T13:51:00.000-07:00

I sat in the back seat, pillow in hand, buckled up, prepared for the long journey. And as he drove, the ever-moving scenic view that passed along the winding, forest-covered road made the sunlight dance a little. The occasional bright flash forced the sunglasses over my eyes. Silence took precedence. The gentle sound of the wind along the pane of glass that rested just inches from my nose was the loudest noise I heard, other than the beating of my heart in my chest. I liked the quiet. I liked more so when it was broken. His throat cleared and as he glanced in the rear-view mirror he asked me what the best thing that came out of this was. It didn’t take me long to think of it, verbalizing it was the issue. How do I explain this newfound feeling that possesses my heart so wholly and with such force? So I raised my sunglasses, looked in the mirror, and fixed my eyes on his face, just so he knew I was serious…if just this once. And as I began, the words came slow and planned at first, and then my heart took over my thoughts. It attempted to explain with fragile words this overwhelming feeling, this new mentality. Afterwards, he didn’t say anything, so I don’t know what he thought of it. I don’t know if I explained it well enough. It was then that I realized why the heart feels instead of talks. I hope he understood correctly. I wish I could give him my heart for 5 seconds just so he could feel what I feel- these feelings are amazing things. I love when he gets up the courage to ask me questions. Usually they are deeper than the casual inquiry. I like that about him. I enjoy being able to see his heart, to show him mine. I think I found out where I got my “deep thinking” from. He is a pensive, gentle soul, and I love him.

Time and time again I see pieces of me from different angles. It is odd, but I like it. I get to see me how my friends see me, how my parents see me, how my family sees me, how I see me. How I thought my view of me was pretty clear, but really I see only the little bit I want to see. Honest moments bring a truthful reality. They make me see the things that I avoid confronting; that I think I know, but really don’t; that I want to be but can’t quite become, because I am stubbornly refusing to change what I need to.

Final Closure. Great Relief. Immense Growth. Unwavering Belief. Unstoppable Love. Ever-growing Hope. Loving Open-Mindedness. Total Acceptance- just a few things that I gained, in this short time.

And now what will I become?

2009-05-01T15:31:00.000-07:00

I don’t like the reflection I see when I look in the mirror sometimes, but I know it is ok because I am not going to remain this way forever. This mindset of uncontrollable urges to do crazy things may one day fade, but I pray my sense of adventure stays with me always. I find time knows so much more than me about healing a heart. I think I use too much gauze and too many bandages when a simple band-aid would do. I over think things too much. I know things have gone past the point of crazy infatuation to a point of simple friendship-driven love, but I still want to tell you how I feel/felt about you, if just to make you realize how special I think you are. I think the world of you. I do. But I know nothing could ever come of this in the long run, although the short-term joy seems almost worth it. I wonder what you would think about it. I wonder what you would say if I told you. I wonder what you would do if I tried to step inside your personal bubble of space. If I tried to make you realize the extent of my sentiments that I carried for oh so long. It would be my last hurrah. I wonder, but I don’t want to act on it cause I fear my romantic ideals are far better than any realistic expectancy I could hope for. So I will sit here and let my mind run wild, let me heart run free.

And now I see it for what it really is.

2009-04-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

I thought I knew what it was that I missed. I thought I missed you, but it was not what I thought it was. I was a little bit blinded by my desire to remain living uninhibited; that I began to seek something I don’t really want. It was guised as something else, something more. But it isn’t. It is love. Nothing more. Love, plain & simple. Love that just wants to love. I look on the idea now with a different sentiment. My heart has turned itself in another direction, not away from you, but alongside you. Seeking to walk with you, to encourage you when you need it, to make you smile when you feel down, to be there when no one else will. I think I just want to love you - who you are, who you will one day become (it will be something great you know). I see so much in you. I hope you see it too. I hope you see how beautiful you are, how gentle your heart is, how brilliantly bright your soul is. I hope you know that no matter what I will always be here, your friend, to support you, to listen to you, to care for you, to love you. Always, always, to love you. To love you as you should be loved- wholeheartedly. You deserve nothing less. In fact, you deserve more. So much more. You deserve the best.

Contentment washes over me, and I am pleased.

2009-04-29T15:28:00.000-07:00

No matter what will happen I will live in this moment- this moment of feeling constant joy pile up upon itself. I am always fighting back these feelings of joy and happiness, if I let them take over I will be a useless pile of smiles and laughter. No one would be able to reach me. I would stare into space and be content with the shade of brown that occupies the surface of the walls in the room. I would smile until my cheeks hurt so much so that I would be unable to continue. So I shall keep them walled-off, just a little bit, a reservoir of contentment and joy, kept inside, but still they are there, always there, at my beck and call.
They make every situation seem “not as bad as it could have been.”
They make every disappointment “alright.”
They make every failure “next time you will do better.”
They make everything “OK.”

It will always be this way. It is this way because I rest in the knowledge that I am loved. And love is stronger than anything that I could face- abandonment, failure, inadequacies, tragedy, & disbelief. Love consumes the bad in every situation, every thing & every one. It cannot be defeated, and personally I don’t want to try to fight it. So come Love, heal our hearts, make us more than we currently are. Make us you personified.

I don’t know which road to take, so I won’t take either. I will sit here on the side of the road and wait...

2009-04-28T13:13:00.000-07:00

...wait for something beautiful.

I don't believe in these vague possibilites, but I am not going to try to change you or myself. I am going to love you just as you are, and nothing will change that. Nothing can change that. The force of the impossibility of the thing is greater than anything else that could posses my heart. This love does not waiver. It is not dependent on you. It is not dependent on me. It alone survives through the storms that beat us down. Through the times full of hate, pain, regret, distraction, empty words & broken promises. It alone holds us up when we grow weak. When we find ourselves directionally challenged. It alone turns us into something great. Something we never thought we would become- an essential part of someone’s heart, someone's soul.

I miss you when you aren’t here. When you aren’t next to me. When you are far enough that your voice cannot successfully travel the distance to reach my ears. When I can’t feel your hand in mine. When I can’t put my ear to your chest to feel your heart beating, slow and rhythmic. When I can’t see your smile- it brightens my life. When I can’t hear your laughter- it lightens my mood, makes my heart glad.

I dream of you sometimes. I remember once I sat across from you at a coffee shop. We spoke of life. You told me your secrets and I told you mine. We laughed till it hurt. Your foot touched mine under the table. I didn’t mind. And as we stood from the table you reached for my hand, but before my fingers could entwine themselves with yours I was roused by the incessant beeping of my alarm clock. I shut it off and went back to sleep. Lucky for me, my dream waited. And as your hand held mine, as we walked slowly, as we shared our hearts, I missed my 9:30am class. I didn’t mind.

And still you have no face. And still my heart seeks you. And still I go on.

Taking back nothing, because I never was willing to give it.

2009-04-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

And what is it now… rubble, a pile of crushed things, these feelings. These thoughts are far too random to comprehend even for me. I am unsure exactly which road I am to follow. Choosing the left one forever changes everything, choosing the right one leaves me to wonder, leaves my heart to ache. And I don’t know what to do. So I listen to Tisbury Lane and pray for a miracle. I think I will lock myself away, or personally discover the damage liquid courage brings. What would be said? What would be thought? Who would stay with me after this? Supposedly those who say they love me. But people do crazy things, and I know it. And this is making me unwilling to go after that one thing that haunts my mind constantly. Everywhere I go I think to myself… wouldn’t it be better if you were here? You constantly occupy my thoughts, STOP! Wouldn’t it be the best thing ever if I could be vulnerably honest, if just this once. I have sat on this bench too long. Now, I am willing to lose the game, burning to the ground in a pile of failure, if just to feel. Just once, damn it!

I win. I lose. I lose again. I lose still, but I go on.

2009-04-26T21:31:00.000-07:00

I have grown tired. Maybe I am looking for something I can’t find. Maybe I am looking for someone who will be to me what I try to be to others. I am exhausted with holding myself up. I want someone else to help me, if only occasionally. I have those people I can turn to, dear friendships that have been formed over time. They encourage me, but their number is few, and they are far from me. I have friends from years past that I now feel I may need to cut ties with, if only for the sake of my sanity. I love them. I do, but they don’t care for anyone. There is no respect, there is only this selfishness and it is tearing me down. I wish people would grow up. I wish people would actually love other people, and not just whom they choose and when they choose to do so. I need consistency. I need relief. I am tired. I am a little distraught. I feel I am the one who might lose in all this. I don’t like it, but I can’t be what I am not. I don’t know what to do, but lose.

I want to tell her what I think of this whole situation, but I fear she will not listen. I fear things that are guised as feelings blind her. Doesn’t she know she deserves more than what he is giving her? Doesn’t she know she is valuable? Doesn’t she realize her worth? I am tired of people not realizing their worth. Instead they settle. Why?
I don’t understand this.
I can’t understand this.
I won’t accept this for myself.

Hold on this will hurt more than anything has before, but it was what it was, what it is. I have grown tired, but somewhere I will find the strength to continue to love, to continue to be the bigger person, to continue to find hope in even the worst situations, to believe people can become more. So take it all away. I don’t feel it anymore.
My heart has these scars, but there is still beauty in past pain.
My mind has these doubts, but there is still hope in uncertainty. My soul has these unfilled longings, but there is still value in loss.

It is strange how a song can say everything your heart is feeling.

2009-04-22T06:43:00.000-07:00

Love Affair- Copeland

Fell past a cheekbone hill
To a piece of the floor
The hope of the world
in an awkward spill
Oh she'd lie on her bed
and stare into harsh white light
and think that her heart's not right
'Cause love took her hand like a thief
took her heart like a robber
and the feelings that scare her
become her relief
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
In a flash a heart is slain
you have to ask in all this pain
Was your heart too soft?
Was your love in vain?
Was your kiss too weak?
Were your eyes too tired?
And much too young to be in love
Much too young to be in love
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
There are no rules for this love
Just keep your head and don't give up
Like all the fools who play it smart.
Lose your head just for your heart, just for your heart.

So what if I WANT to "mess up" really big this time?

2009-04-21T05:16:00.000-07:00

I wish someone would tell me what to do. I wish I would tell someone so they could tell me what to do. I know what some people would say. "You are crazy. What are you thinking? You cannot do this. You should not do this!" That is just the thing. For once I'm not thinking, I have decided to feel instead. I wish these beautiful things, these feelings, weren't so shrouded in confusion, in this feeling of bleh.
I am so close to saying the words I have practiced to myself multiple times- in front of the mirror, in my bed before I drift off to sleep. After each time the words leave my mouth, I find I sound stupid and give up all over again. A week later the cycle restarts. Vicious thing.
I have never felt this horribly torn about anything in my life. I don't know if it is possible to feel more torn. I wouldn't exist anymore; I am sure of it. I'm scarily near losing everything I am already. OH MY, I wish my mind would stop thinking! I wish my heart would stop feeling! I wish people who say they would love me no matter what would actually do it. But I'm not willing to test this. I'm not willing to lose. I'm just not.

Man, I'm lame...

Sigh

2009-04-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

The frustration building up is becoming overwhelming. I am nearly ready to give up. I wish someone would just hold my hand and tell me it will be ok. That this is just a temporary thing. This fling. This breaking. This taking of my soul little by little. I have hit a cul-de-sac, and I find I continue to travel about in the circle hoping that more than just one end will be open. I don't want to go back the way I came. It hurts to revisit this thing.

The future four days seem daunting. I always feel a little inadequate, unready to face these little difficulties. The butterflies build, and I find myself wanting to sleep. Sleep brings peace. But I can't now, not yet. Soon, maybe. But not now.

I breathe deep and Sigh. It's heavier than usual this time,
But all I can do now is Sigh.

I discovered it long ago, but it took me years to fully heal.

2009-04-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

Someone once asked me how I could be so positively happy all the time. So I sat them down and told them the story that I don’t tell very many people. And as they listened in silence, I saw in their eyes the formation of two gentle pools, which quickly turned into streams running down freckled cheeks.

It wasn’t my words or how I explained my past; it was the association that brought them to that moment. And who knew they faced the same thing? Who knew they had asked the same question? Who knew they were awaiting the answer that I had discovered years ago? I sure as hell didn’t.

So I sat in silence as they began to tell me the story that they don’t tell many people, and as I listened two gentle pools began to form and the streams began their gravity-pulled path downward. And as I discovered that all sensible words of advice had left me, I decided to let them talk it all the way out. And when they had finished, my words still hid themselves, so I said nothing. Looking back on it, I didn’t have to. Everything that was needed had already been said. And in the course of one day healing came, to both my heart and theirs. I won’t forget that day our paths crossed, and these paths will remain entwined even though they have now lead to different ends.

Vulnerable honesty is refreshing, scary, the best feeling in the world.

Love, Love, Love… and it consumes me yet again.

2009-04-15T10:37:00.000-07:00

I’ve got it good, and I know it. My life is so unbelievably filled with love. So much so that I get giddy if I start to think about it. In fact, I have to make myself stop or my heart begins to ache because its walls become stressed under the pressure of this uncontainable, forceful thing.

I love the time spent in the morning with a vanilla almond biscotto and a doppio espresso macchiato. Such simple things delight my heart, facilitate deeper thoughts. So many things I wish I could say, not necessarily to act on them (would you love me less if I did?), but to talk them out. I do better when I talk things out. These doubts, these fears, these confusing thoughts. I don’t know whom I can turn to for this one, the knowledge of this thing’s existence will change things. No action required. The words alone will betray me this time. Dovrei lasciare perderlo, ma mi sembra che sia troppo difficile questa volta.

I long for a day just like that day on the beach- a day of complete honesty and acceptance, a day of laughter and lightness of heart, a day of unrestricted love. I want everyday to be this valuable to my heart. I will love, love, love you until the world collapses in on itself, and nothing will change this. Nothing you do, or don’t do. Nothing you say or don’t say. It won’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing but this love. Let’s be vulnerable and risk losing this security blanket of fake facades. Let’s get unconditional. Isn’t that what real love is all about anyways? Mio fratello, sai che hai un grand pezzo del mio cuore per sempre?

Love, people, conversation, honesty & pensive moments = pure joy.

Il mio nonno….

2009-04-14T08:13:00.000-07:00

And so I sat to write a brief phrase that could contain the feelings that fill my heart. The page remained blank while I pondered this simple, unchanging thing. I looked back on my life to recall the moments effected, developed and infused with joy.

I recall being young. My feet would travel fast, seemingly unable to remain attached to my body. I would become breathless, but I knew every time my little hands reached out, you were there.

I recall you sitting me down and talking with me. I used to love to hear you speak of yourself, your life, your heart; in fact, I still do. Your words would form a cavern, vast and open, always ending with an eager question, awaiting a reply, seeking something inside of me. And as you drew it out, you asked it to form shape- a shape that only my thoughts could form.

You asked it to form me.

I must say, I am who I am, in part, because of you. You may not have thought you influenced me this much, oh! but you did, oh! but you do. I think of you often. I wish I knew you better. I wish I saw you more. I wish you would tell me those things that would be the hardest to say. The life lessons learned only through pain and struggle. Don’t you know I could use that? No one ever wants to admit the hurt, the failure, but this could bring nothing but good. I am sure of it.

I have come to realize we are more similar than I thought we were. I like that. I smiled as I sat next to you, as you told me a "secret." I was one of the only ones you could joke with, because you knew I would return the humor. And still you formed a little bit more of me. You asked me a question I never thought you would ask, a question my father has yet to ask me. I could do nothing but laugh, but I liked that you were bold enough to ask.
So as I sat in an attempt to fit these sentiments into one brief phrase, I decided “I love you” is far too cliché for this. And so the words simply formed themselves, and though basic and unadorned, they expressed my sentiments exactly: “You, as always, dear sir, delight my heart immensely.”

I woke up at 4:44am. Early morning thoughts are the deepest.

2009-03-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

Burned, Broken, Barricaded Bridge
Oh goodness, goodness...
What have you become?

This time the tension melts your calm- palms sticky, shaking, sweating.
You attempt to reinvent yourself, adapting, yet remaining inept.
You struggle, but still you grow, if only little by little.
You learn, all the things you thought you knew are minuscule, misaligned, meaningless.

This hesitation-filled two-foot space that your feet currently occupy is shrinking.
Where will you go this time?
The lone escape is a burned and broken bridge that you have barricaded up.
Afraid of those who would enter
Afraid of your own vulnerability
Afraid to lose
Afraid, afraid, afraid...
You've blocked it up and this fear has gotten the best of you.

"Rebuilding costs too much," you say, but damn it! where else will you go?
So it's time to start this slow-paced process, laying one brick at a time.
Reconstructing this bridge to your soul and heart,
Making truth rise from the ashes of the lies you've told,
Making good on your promise to live Unabandoned.

Burned, Broken, Barricaded Bridge
Oh goodness, goodness...
Look what you could become.

Basta...

2009-03-21T21:35:00.000-07:00

Non so perche' e non volgio sentirmi cosi. Ma io penso che il mio cuore abbia deciso ed io non posso fermarlo. E' vero, io pago un prezzo per te ma non riesco a vincere oppure capire. In questo momento, la mia mente e' piena dei pensieri di te. Allora, io non posso stare in piedi, queste cose mi trascinano in terra.. proprio il contario. Un mucchio di merda su questi sentimenti. Un mucchio di merda su questi pensieri. Io devo dimenticarli oppure io perdero' tutto. Loro non potranno capirlo ma non me ne frega. D'ora in poi, questi sentimenti e pensieri sono persi per sempre. E' un amore non corrispoto, lo so. Le cose che amo di te sono nascoste dentro di me e loro rimarranno li'.Allora, Basta.
BASTA.

Belief is a beautiful armor that makes for the heaviest sword...

2009-03-19T19:34:00.000-07:00

I love time for personal introspection, especially among a crowd of clattering people or in a quieter mix of coffee shop noises and hushed chatter of small talk. There is something strangely appealing in being able to remove myself from the noise and step back from it all. To look inside and see a quiet peace that all the bustle of the world cannot touch.

I love to think about other people, how they are doing, what I would ask them if they sat across from me. I wonder if they want someone to talk with, no matter the subject big or small, hugely important or seemingly minuscule. I never tire of hearing people talk about their lives, their thoughts, their secret hopes and dreams, and their more public life goals.

I love to listen to people vent. People need that sometimes.

I love to see people smile. I smile when I see it.

I love to hear people laugh. There is just something so beautifully whole about laughter.

I don’t mind seeing people cry. I never quite know what to do in this situation, but I find for me a hug and a person willing to listen is invaluable. And once the tears stop, the words will begin and healing will come, in time.

Le lacrime puliscono l’anima. L’onestà intreccia I cuori fragili. Non c’e’ niente piu’ bello delle amicizie autentiche, durature, intime.

Just getting to know people on a deeper level brings me immense joy. I am growing tired of the superficial friendships that only generate two minute conversations on weather. I want more. I think people want more too, but they are just afraid of what others think, of judgment, of abandonment…and well, quite frankly, so am I. Yet, I am willing to put that aside this time, because I believe we can become more than this.

Oh these tricky things, these matters of the heart.

2009-03-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

We seek reason where it doesn’t exist. Everyone that has ever felt something knows the heart tells you things your mind finds foolish. We try to find a way to fill the empty space that has crept up, that only that one person can fill, but currently they don’t. It remains vacant. The emptiness stares back at you, and you find yourself at a loss for words. Not because you don’t want to say anything- you do, but because you are afraid those words will be left unreciprocated, that things will change, that friendships will dissolve. This internal struggle is exhausting, but you can’t just leave it in limbo. You tried that. It didn’t work. It came back to haunt you, stronger still. The next time just might kill you. So now you are left in a place no better than where you started, in fact it might be worse. But still you repress and repress, and discover something about yourself. Maybe when it comes to this, you can’t be honest, a quality you claim to posses. Maybe it is better to leave this unsaid. This time, the risk is too great and frankly… I‘m unwilling.

Morning Thoughts

2009-02-26T10:58:00.000-08:00

I couldn't sleep last night., because my mind kept racing around. My thoughts went to our conversation. I still feel a little confused, but at least I don't feel so alone anymore. Thank you for that.

At the same time, I spoke just enough. Not too little, not too much. I still have things only I know. At least I can still feel like there is more of me to give. Oddly enough, I feel whole in the idea of only me being able to know myself completely. Maybe my viewpoint of this is different than others', but that is just how I see it.

I couldn't eat this morning, my stomach felt in knots. There are some decisions that I still haven't decided on. Maybe the answer will come in time, all by itself, that way I won't have to try to rationalize the feelings in my heart. It aches from this indecisiveness.

It is really hard to say that I don't know, that I want to know, but I can't. At least not right now. I guess I just haven't found myself yet. Why is it that the most meaningful decisions are the hardest?

And still I learn...

2009-02-23T17:13:00.000-08:00

I am convinced to the smallest part of my soul that there must be something greater than me. How insignificantly small I am? How minute this life in comparison with the world, the millions of others just like me and the millions that lead a drastically different life. I sit still and remember past things. I glance across the coffee shop to see a woman wearing a t-shirt displaying the words "Never Forget" underneath a cutely drawn elephant with flowers in its trunk. So often we forget the diversity of the world, we live in our own bubble, too comfortable to stretch ourselves from its confines. It is definitely a flaw that I possess at times. But I am looking forward to breaking these bonds of limited thinking. Looking to see beauty in diversity. Looking to discover that love is enough to hold us together.

Oh goodness, this will kill me.

2009-02-10T00:31:00.000-08:00

Today was like any other day. I woke up in the same bed, the same room, the same apartment. That familiar domicile that I have temporarily given the title home. I glanced out of the kitchen, and I saw the same view, the same trees, the same sky.
This familiarity is comfortable. This familiarity is mundane.

I walked along the same streets I always do. I saw the well-known faces, and made the occasional wave just to let them know that they alone stood out to me among the ever-moving throng of people.
This familiarity is repetitive. This familiarity is tiring.

I follow the same weekly schedule. Class times are predetermined. The remaining hours of the day belong to the ever-constant flow of incoming papers and tests. I look forward to the weekends when things have a greater possibility of breaking from the norm, yet oftentimes they don't.
This familiarity is predictable. This familiarity will kill me.

Do you remember the day you stood over that young boy’s grave and said to yourself, “I won’t waste it. I won’t take it for granted, like I used to. I won’t live it like everyone else- following the routine. I won’t. I won’t,” you said with determination. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you turned your back to that plot of freshly dug earth, and you made promises to yourself. And although everything has changed, the time has finally come. It’s time to keep your word.

Oh...

2009-01-23T21:53:00.000-08:00

Oh these hands, these frugal things
They create. They form.
They dig and worm in the dirt looking for shiny pieces of old metal.
Looking for life in things long dead.

Oh these feet, these weary things
The miles they have traveled could circle the earth, and still
So many more lie ahead, waiting to be uncovered,
Discovered and appreciated, much like our hearts.

A quick glance in the rear-view mirror brings joy.
Behind you, stopped at the light, sits an old friend in his old brown car.
First thought: he has aged more than you.
Second thought: we are the same age.
Third thought: How old am I?

Oh these years, these fleeting things
They shorten with age. They bring about a new you, unfamiliar and changed.
But it is a good you, a better you.

Oh these memories, these wonderful things
They fade in and out at times. They bring back joy long-forgotten.
They teach the lessons people can’t. They stand, though at times hazy.
When all else fails, they alone remind you of who you were, who you are,
And what you always dreamed of being.

Oh these hearts, these breakable things
Fragile, and sometimes seemingly broken beyond repair, but still
Capable of so much compassion, love.

Oh these souls, these beautiful things
Adept to dream, believe.
Unwilling to surrender, and willing to live.

Late nights & insomnia = A little extra time for reflection

2009-01-13T05:57:00.000-08:00

I think of you more than you think I do. I read the words you wrote on some random scraps of paper and felt my heart beat slowly. Your thoughts make me relax. Your heart is so pure. I breathe deep and consider your thoughts, and wish, if only, if only I could think as you do. If only I could see the world from such a beautiful point of view. I take another sip of wine, and consider change. What more could I become? The words of a newly added profile song wash over me. “Camminiamo ancora insieme. Sopra il male, sopra il bene.” And indeed I realize we walk together, still, above the bad, above the good. Our hearts have become entwined; there is no turning back this time. There is only what will become of us, and I know it is something beautiful. Love transcends all fear. My head begins to feel light, and I know it isn’t because of the wine. My heart has driven me to this place. I consider you first my friend. I consider you second my missing piece. I consider you, above all, my family, for you will likewise possess my unconditional love. I have become weary and still you push me forward with encouraging words, at times random and nonsensical. I strive to fall into the unknown, but jumping off this ledge of false security is difficult. I haven’t yet realized I am wearing a parachute, and if only I would jump, the wind would catch me. So I stand ready, with my toes pointing me towards a vast, empty space. A space filled with a new way of life, a new form of love, a new way of thinking. I have shed this old skin. I will see things clearly for the first time. I will begin new again. And to you…to you with all of my heart…thank you, friend.

The possibilities are endless. I just dont know which one to take.

2008-11-24T15:32:00.000-08:00

I am slowly becoming a little bolder. I am seeking to step out onto something not quite defined. It is unsettling, but I welcome these feelings of doubt. Chissa! Forse trovero’ qualcosa piu bella di quello che ho immaginato.

I had a great conversation with my Italian professor today. I still talk like I am 2 but I succeeded in making a joke, which he laughed at. Almeno sono il tesoro di qualcuno.

I love my classes with him. He has made me want to be better, to learn more. Mi innamoro sempre di piu con questa lingua ogni giorno.

So I fiddled with my guitar today. I am trying to write a new song but am failing miserably at it. Questi pensieri sono persi dentro di me, e non riesco trovarli.

I am very much looking forward to the holidays. It becomes a little strange to see the family unit change. If the family isn’t broken by divorce, it is divided later by life. I remember when my youngest brother got married. Up until that point he was my best friend, we hung out every day. If he wanted to do anything he would ask me to go with him, if I wanted to go anywhere, he was the first one I called. Now I have seen him a total of 5 times this whole year. Change sucks sometimes, life pulls us apart, and we learn to deal with it; but that still doesn’t negate the fact that I miss my family when I am away. Ma allo stesso tempo io volgio spingerla via, perche’ io so che partiro’ e forse sara’ piu facile piu tardi se comincio spingerla via poco a poco adesso. In questo modo, il mio cuore puo imparare come perdere. Io non so quello che fare di piu.

I saw it in a store and thought it would look good on my wall...

2008-11-15T23:41:00.000-08:00

I went shopping today. Some call it window shopping. I call it telling myself I am going window shopping but knowing all along that I will end up buying something that I don’t necessarily need. I promised myself I would not spend any money. Boy did I lie. I ended up buying one of those plaques that almost always have a clichéd saying on it. You know the ones you see in Linens & Things and Bed, Bath & Beyond? Yah it was one of those. I know I am a sucker. I bought something for 5 times the cost it took to make it, and I almost don’t care if it is lame or a waste, because I liked it… sho nuff, I liked it. Sure I could just remember the saying, write it on a blank piece of paper with a sharpie, and tape it to my wall, but that wouldn’t be as neat or pretty. What can I say? I am not that artistic, or artistic at all, really. In fact, coloring by number was a struggle for me when I was younger, and to this day I have difficulty staying inside the lines. Anyways, getting back on track. Me…bought plaque…. Liked plaque…YEAH plaque! It is a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, of whom I am quickly becoming an aficionado, and this is what it said:

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.”

So let’s not worry so much about life, and things beyond our control. Instead let’s look to what we can become, what we can make of ourselves as people. We can be kind, we can be accepting of others, we can be genuine, we can love others for no reason at all except for the mere fact that we know that people need compassion. We can make what lies within us so much greater than the hate of others, greater than the past, and brighter, so much brighter than the future.

I did things a little differently today...

2008-10-27T21:41:00.000-07:00

I decided to skip the 6-minute bus ride in order to take the 35-minute walk home instead. I blame it on the weather. How dare it be so beautiful! I didn’t rush, didn’t put headphones in, and didn’t call anyone. I just let myself walk, slow, just me and my thoughts. I began to remember so many things I had begun to forget, things I don’t want to forget. I enjoy reliving them, these simple memories. They have made me who I am. I think it is good for your mind to remember; but sometimes, it is good for your heart to forget, because regret hurts. It is easy enough to say you shouldn’t regret things, but much harder to do. Some mistakes you never forget, but there is still good that comes, because you learn from them. I find this introspection is both easy and difficult, yet refreshing. It is good to take time to look inside yourself, to discover something new that you didn’t see before. Today I discovered that, like wine, I am becoming better with time. When it comes to wine, they often say older years are usually better, but this current year has been the best "vintage year" of my life. :)

I can see so much more now that my eyes have fully opened...

2008-10-03T23:21:00.000-07:00

We are tossed and turned on the waves of life; but hope will keep us afloat, and love will give us new-found strength.

Little by little, I feel the holes in my heart beginning to fill in. Needless to say, I haven't felt more whole as a person than I do right now.

Raccontami di te...Raccontami perche?

2008-09-28T14:08:00.000-07:00

What an uncommon beauty these words she forms with seeming ease. They speak to the deepest parts of my heart. Oh, if only I were as eloquent as to form a phrase with such emotion, such heart. To speak them with a strong resounding voice that floats on the wings of a melody so soft. I see a little of what I long to become in her.

These non-rhythmic beats seem a little off, but this combination of sound brings life. My heart begins to beat along, and I find I am writing the soundtrack to my life. With every beat, the heart monitor wavers; its inconsistency matches that of my youth. But I am better than I used to be.

So similar these minds, these hearts entwined. Maybe my point of view is biased.

I can’t say, even now, that I know exactly who you are. Would it be rash of me to say I love you? I don’t use the word love lightly. I can type it in multiple languages and every time I do, I really mean it. They could easily misconstrue it, but don’t they know love is so much more than what they think it is- so much more. Maybe I love too easily, but I don’t mind.

My heart feels too full sometimes; it’s bursting at the seams. My heart desires to remain in this place, to be given to someone for safekeeping. I desire to become unmovable, to stand still and feel the wind on my face. I desire to move forward, to freefall into something more. Something great, this love will be.

Addressing some issues, if only for myself.

2008-09-20T18:39:00.000-07:00

I thought I saw your face on the front of a magazine the other day, but it was just someone who looked like you. It brought you back to my thoughts, a place you haven’t been in a while. I could say I don’t know why it took me so long to think of you, but it would be a lie. I can. I don’t think of you because the distance is too much for me to handle calmly. And even though you have found yourself another life, part of me will be with you always, and I have finally found I can’t ignore it anymore.

You may never know how many times I have wanted to call you, and I may never have the courage to tell you. So I will put it in this note with the hopes that you will read it and know I speak of you, friend. I’ve picked up the phone, dialed your number and hung up at least a dozen times in a row. This is something so simple; it shouldn’t be this hard. I don’t know why I make it. I wish this uncertainty would die in me.

I am tired of having a heart that is so ready to love someone without having someone to love. It is really starting to tear me up inside. I just want to give everything I am to someone and have them love me back. Is it too much to ask? Can’t it be easier than what they make it out to be?

I have shoved you to the side, pushed you into the dark, because I was tired of working so hard to keep myself going in the right direction. I still don’t know where to go, so I sit here on the ground in a mound of confusion with the hopes that you will find me and put me back together. I can’t do it by myself. I can’t. I don’t even want to try without you here with me. So come, please. Fight me even when I push you away. Don’t let me win. Piece me back together again.

Through every regret, sadness, doubt, and hard time, I find I am still happy. If not on the surface, but deep down I am. Different feelings need to show, I can’t exist in only one. But they are underlying always, these soft feelings of joy, these thoughts of simple happiness. This feeling that I can fly. It exists in me. I can feel it welling up. I can feel it breaking free.

Honesty...again

2008-09-19T11:38:00.000-07:00

At least now I’m not shoving it all inside. They eat me from the inside out, these feelings. But at least I feel. I hurt, I love, I bleed, but I feel. The overflow of my heart would be uncontainable by an ocean. There is too much, too much. It fills my every breath, the marrow in my bones. It goes deep, unable to be uprooted, unable to be manipulated and changed.

I cried at breakfast this morning. It sounds lame, but I don’t care. I was thinking a lot about the little that you said. I can’t even imagine how you feel. I would like to say some words of encouragement, but I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know what to say to myself. I would like to think I can relate in some way, but I know I really can’t. Different lives, lead to different places. Feelings aren’t the same. I know how I feel. I feel as if my heart has been ripped from my chest and I have been left for dead. People ask me, and I lie casually. I can’t even begin to explain. How do I tell them I don’t care much for this place anymore, that my heart is somewhere else now, that I want to leave them behind? Oh God, it hurts just thinking about it. But it is all I think of everyday. It consumes my thoughts and I can’t break from them. I can’t fill this empty hole. I don’t know if I ever will able to, but I really do hope I can. I wonder if this is what depression feels like.

I realized I don’t even know you all that much. Learning people is hard. Where do you begin? How far do you take it? How much do they care to learn you?

I wish someone would write a manual on life. But that would make it too easy wouldn’t it?

Be still, Breathe deep, and finally, Take the plunge.

2008-09-18T19:36:00.000-07:00

For once I am going to be honest with myself.

I think I talk to much and don't do enough. I think I care too much what others think, even though I say I don't. I think I want to be better than I am to make up for what I haven't been in the past. I think I am scared to seek out love, for fear of no one wanting me. I think I am selfish. I think I should cry more often than I do ( Is my heart made of stone?).

I am so uncertian of my life, but I like the instability. I am trying to become more than I am, but I am finding it difficult. I am blinded by romantic ideals, but I like them. I am fighting to win a battle that I just might lose. I don't know who I am as much as I thought I did. I want to stand on a public sidewalk and scream at the top of my lungs, but I never will because I am not bold enough.

I feel a little confused and lost, but I am ok with it. I am ok with me.

What do you do when you find out the end was really the END?

2008-09-15T14:34:00.000-07:00

Life throws us some curves. I don't quite know how to take all of them sometimes. Usually I do rather well. Coping has become habitual. So many changes come and go, if I didn't cope I would lose my mind. But does coping mean I have stopped caring for all those friends that I don't see anymore, for all the memories I made, or all the love I had and still have in my heart for others?

This is a tough road to travel, this life.

I wish I were bolder.

When do you say the distance has become too far and cut ties? Do you hold on forever? Do you lose just a little bit of your heart to all of the people you love until you don't have any left to give? I feel I still have so much more to give, but so much is already gone. When does it all balance out?

I wish I could see myself as he sees me.

I wish I could relive some moments just to better remember what they felt like.

I think maybe I wish too much.

It took 5,626 miles of separation for me to find myself, and this is who I became when I left home

2008-09-13T15:56:00.000-07:00

I see something building up inside me that wasn't there before. It cries out loudest from the smallest part of my soul. It cries out for love, purpose, and REAL friendships. This new perspective is swallowing me whole. I am able to be who I want to be. I will be who I am and unashamedly. I will say what I think and without fear. I will love like I want to be loved and wholeheartedly.
I find as I get older the years get shorter. The time is speeding past and my fingers seem to be losing their grip. With a positive attitude I seek to see the good in this. Now, I value every moment I have more. I value every conversation with friends, whether 3 hours or 3 minutes. I treasure the little things; they add so much to my life- the occasional letter to a friend, sunny days that carry a delightful breeze, climbing the jetties at midnight, and seeing someone for the first time in 2 years. My heart gets unnaturally giddy thinking of the small, yet meaningful moments in my life. Some would consider them unworthy of noting, I don't. The small moments build up to big moments, the big moments gradually grow bigger, and these bigger moments define my life. I will be defined by the little deeds- the uttering of kind words to a stranger, the selflessness of giving yourself to others, the desperately needed hug you gave unknowingly just because you felt they should be hugged solely because of who they are. These moments will define me. They will form the thoughts and ideas said of me when I am gone. They will be the vestiges of me left for others to consider thoughtfully. What will they say of you?
All I want is that they say: I gave like no one else gave, I lived like no one else lived, and I loved like no one else loved. Undoubtedly this may not be what is said of me, but if I attempt to live up to this standard, just maybe I will affect the world as best I can. I will give as best I can, I will live as best I can, and I will love as best I can. And well, maybe, just maybe, my best will be enough for me, because I gave it my all.

Call the surgeon mend the pieces...

2008-09-05T15:10:00.000-07:00

I am breaking myself up in order to find hope within others and myself. I dream to be more, to do more, to live more. I find my life a wonderful thing; I don’t want to waste it like I have. I want to do more with it, reach more with it, and become more through it. So many thoughts race through my head. I don’t know where to begin and end, when to pause and reflect on one specific thing, or if I should let my thoughts run wild.
Unbound hearts make for the best.
When do you make that decision in your life on exactly what to believe, on what to become, on what to achieve. I want to break down these walls of doubt, oh furious things they are! They set me back and not forward. They tear me down, not raise me up. I believe, I believe, I believe in so many things, so little things. To place myself above it becomes infinitely difficult. To stay in it tears me apart. Oh such fragile things we are. We should admit it more to the people we love. What or who else do we have? I would give up everything to spend 30 more seconds with you, have one more breath in your presence, and be able to see you without blinking to see the image of you fade.
Unbound hearts make for the best.
So much in this world is nothing to me. So little is everything. Images of color fade to black and white; there is a beauty in the simplicity of things. Beauty in the reflection of the moon on the ocean, beauty in the rarely seen depths of the heart of a person, beauty in each moment good or bad.
Unbound hearts make for the best.