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

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.

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….

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.

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...

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...

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.

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.