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

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

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...

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

Divergent daydreams

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

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.

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.