Sunday, April 15, 2012
Monday, September 26, 2011
Monday, November 1, 2010
the funny talk we had while raindrops hit our cheeks, watching you smile in the movie theatre chair next to me, smelling peppermint and snowflakes on Christmas Eve with your family, sitting on the cold summer grass seeing shooting stars whip past, the excitement of seeing a new message in my inbox and knowing it was from you, dinner with two close friends, shivering underneath a blanket during a scary spring storm and you telling me that nothing bad would happen there, the warmth that's still on my skin from the southern summer sun as i'd drive into town to see you, watching the fan spin, late night walks around the neighborhood, driving as far as we could to get 30 teenage minutes to ourselves, and of course ending my senior year of high school with my first- young- love.
the subject of my admiration is all of them. "them" being experiences and the people that will forever reside inside of them. they only happened because i let them, and because i was willing.
i have been playing the part of a pessimist lately. and no wonder it's cloth has felt so itchy and irritable to my skin. it's fibers are binding, and i can no longer breathe. it isn't me. and the bitterness has taken over. that spacious hole is there because i let it create itself. you must give something permission to change you. and if you resist, it just digs at you until you're hollowed out.
i know what i want. i've always wanted the same thing. the only thing is that at some point i gave up, and i let the world's lies dig deep into me. i compromised things that i should've held fast to. i settled with my own unrecognizable behavior, and i laid every hope and daydream quietly in my hand and let the wind take them wherever it desired.
and i deserve the entirety. i will not settle for half, i will not settle for uncertainty, i will not settle for one foot in and one foot out. i won't stop believing and i will find someone that can twirl me just the right way.
and i want to give nothing less.
hearts are infinitely fragile. we know this- that's nothing new. but we all desire the most careful of hands to cradle the misunderstood and most hopeful bit of us. we have to be born with most of it, and maybe the rest is learned. but regardless, love is about protection to the best of one's ability- and an assortment of thousands of other lovely things.
cynicism will poison every ounce of your blood if you allow it. life can take you fantastic places if you allow it. if you allow yourself to settle, then you will. if you willingly believe, if you willingly give, and if you willingly hope- then the aspirations that are held deep in the small lump that gives you a steady rhythm, will hold fast to your life. what you desire will have no way of dodging you and your forgiving lips.
i used to love change. for a lot of different reasons, but mostly because it meant that something significant and different was on its way. i saw everything as preparing me for the next breathtaking chunk of something i was going to witness. this is before i fell into hiding, before i convinced myself that love was something tricky, something hurtful, something that will always betray you. but something inside of me tonight reminded me of what made me want to keep the search party out until the wee hours.
it's easy to feel a huge array of emotions without understanding where they originate from. but somehow, we all know our own limits. and once we've hit them, there's no reverse.
there is a type of love that brands you from the inside out. there's a kind of love that keeps you driving long distances late into the night. the kind that bridges gaps within yourself, that makes you want to literally run as far and as fast as you can to feel that feeling just one more time. there's a kind perfection that has more flaws than you'd originally hoped, and inside of it all the world sits perfectly on its axis.
raindrops will stall, plans will be altered for the better good, feet will be set in motion, palms will feel as though they're on fire, running will feel too slow, dust will not settle, static will cease, and desperation will be beautiful.
and just like that, hope is always restored.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
i feel remarkably 13 again. there’s this backwards motion that seems to be taking place, and i can't find anything to grip. but i suppose that’s how most things happen, when we’re in the other room. or other side of the street. or other side of the bed. or other side of the movie screen.
there was something once familiar, something hopeful, and some sort of genuine light that seems to have vaporized. the truth is, i don’t know if any of this is worth any of the that anymore. i know years ago i would’ve told myself differently, even just a few months ago- but the farthest completion of thought that i can reach out to is either five and a half hours away, or 2,000 miles in the past. the not so very distant past.
and i love thoughts! i love filling out forms, and scheduling things. i love having ideas and writing thoughts down. it feels like each word begins, and are finished before their completion. i know it doesn’t make any sense, but my eyebrows are tired from the frowning and my stomach is sick of the upside down turns it reluctantly takes whenever i see the newest of things that feel like the oldest of terrors.
there are horror films, and masks, and bloody make-up. there’s things that jump out at you, and ghosts in movies. there are loud noises and creepy whispers. there are thriller novels, eerie moonless skies, and of course- things that go bump in the night. things that stare at you from all angles. but fear, is suddenly not so terrifying anymore. and there is so much work begging to be done.
not meaning to go all Taylor Swift on you, my invisible audience or the lack there of, but it all leads up to the word; heartbroken. something i relied on, disappeared. something has restored an amount of vulnerability, and now i feel incredibly exposed. maybe i was looking the other way, or maybe i lost myself inside of something that was never really there to begin with- but something is now different.
i used to see the stars held captive in the blue, and i used to hold hands still that wanted to shake. there’s no allure in the dark taste or the smell i used to crave. i stretched out, and found it had all packed up, and left.
but the unvocalized bits slithered through my fingers, and blamed themselves in ink. folded fibers devoured the words that i never knew i had to say. probably discarded, and most likely piled up with all the rest. but regardless, they’ve left me now- and the hole feels a little less spacious.
i have discovered: i long for that contentment. i desire that sunrise that only i and one other can see. i crave that displacement that brought me right back to where i should’ve been. i hunger for the still trees and their shifting leaves. i want the frosty windows that only i and one other see out of. i thirst for partnership and the idea of continually being on the same page. the same book even! i wish for the weightlessness of falling sideways, and i am pleading for an act of stillness. i know i’ll find it. there would be no such desire if there were not a resolution.
or gosh, just a little time. just a little time before all waters are disrupted. just a little time before every bit of the clarity once achieved is certainly forgotten. just a little moment, or two.
but this use of words is what brings me back to the beginning. grass, trees, stars, sand, waves, moon, gravel, porchlight, fleece, rough fiber, feather necklace, empty beer bottle, and a-sigh-of-relief. enamoured with the world above, and the world beside me. and i can’t find an antonym strong enough. and if i could, i’d use it to jab and sever that painful verb from my existence. the one that led to phrases, stories, and aspirations.
and i can’t be brought back anymore. not when there’s no one, and not one thing to meet me there. the objects, the things embedded in the ground and the sky are lost. i have learned this lesson in years passed, and a mere few weeks ago- and still, i can’t quite compete. magnetic, fascinating, attracting, intriguing and mesmerizing.
i want to tell myself it’s only because it’s a late hour, and that morning always brings a different type of exhalation. but i know better.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
we often do things to make ourselves miserable.
we eat until we become sick. we watch movies that will make us feel a certain sickeningly lonely way. we look at pictures of things we cant have, places we can't see, and people we will never know again. we forget sunscreen. we drink til we puke. we spend money we'll never have. we lunge head first into a pair of arms, unfamiliar or familiar, as if we're diving into oncoming traffic.
the jump, the dive, the lunge- is all the happiness and euphoria there is to find in something like that. we are obsessed with the fall. when, and if, we land; we run. or we are run from.
i used to think i wasn't a negative person. and maybe at one time, i wasn't. i think at one time i knew the importance in the jump, and the rest came as it came. i remember when i woke up on that couch, and sat up. you know how when you fall asleep somewhere unfamiliar, and you wake up terrified? i woke up startled, and unnerved. there was a huge, wide window with a world's view to the illuminated blue sky and it's puffy white clouds held tightly captive within their own will. i tried to see everything from the perspective in that one moment, but all i could do was fear. and that's not me at all. i've taught myself to fear, and i've woken up startled.
i guess there's only so much hiding you can do. only so many covers to protect you from what's no longer there, and the space that now exists between how your skin felt there and how it no longer feels at all. i can't stop the relentless picture show that continues to run behind my eyelids. friends help. family helps. movies help. books, coffee, wind and rain, cold mornings, clouds with stars, glasses of wine, new shirts, an orange kitty, running, blocking it out, letting it consume you, letting things drift from organization, the music, writing- it all helps. but what im beginning to realize, is that something through me or just myself facing the mass of it, must cure it.
so without the running, and the hiding, and the false hope- im standing in front of the disaster site with eyes wide open. facing it with a clear head and cold air beside me is the only way to truly see what has unfolded while i've been away. or before i woke up startled. no damage has been done by other people, and i can literally feel that for the first time. the damage is within myself, done by myself, and must be healed by myself. well, myself and the one person or "thing" who has always proven to somehow care in these days ive known.
sometimes it takes something like this. something like this, that can make you see yourself with a pure honesty that is the purification you needed to do on your own. and the term 'on your own' comes with every sting of loneliness you can imagine. but that's okay. the loneliness can teach great things, and can wake up bits of you that have lost their pulse in the fight.
and, i'm terrified. a new city, the newest me to add to the collection, and an insane amount of fear. im absolutely petrified of this new life that's about to begin in less than a month with or without me- and i have only once choice, but to be completely and totally there. in every second.
so these things that we take pleasure in, the things that burn us and overwhelm us- these things that make us miserable- will never fade, and never cease until fully dealt with. until full faced. until fully confronted and fully recognized as full of power but not more powerful than the power that lies within you. within me!
and to let yourself be known by someone else, and to take a chance to truly know someone else- is always a risk.
what's funny about it all, is that this summer has been insanely amazing. at times it has hurt so terribly bad, but so much of my fall has been caught by a new group of friends who seem to mean more than i allow anyone to. my dear, amazing Pelly family have made me so wonderfully happy- and certainly in times of need. i am so fortunate to have had this summer back at home. and while other bits of my life- bits that my heart cherishes more than i could ever write and admit- have fallen apart, i have had something to count on in those friendships.
anyways. in short, lesson learned. you can let yourself fall apart within yourself and you can hide. these things take minimal effort. and while the strength inside my mind, my heart, and even my fingertips is fading and almost non-existent, i am choosing to face what's gone wrong within me, and what can be salvaged from my months, and possibly years, of neglect. and oh my, it still hurts. the silence is almost more than i can begin to understand, and the inability to reach out to anything is almost suffocating.
i'll never go as far to say that i'll never take a chance with that bit in the center of my chest again, but i absolutely must let people love me. i must not stop loving. i must accept words that are kind, and accept those that feel most unkind. i must accept everything! everything with gratitude, and i must let this remainder of this summer overwhelm me as it already has, and i must face the fear that comes with this new city, this new school, these new people, and all things unfamiliar.
and, so it is.