"I will remember your face, 'cause I am still in love with that place"
Monday, August 25, 2014
Friday, August 22, 2014
I do not know where to begin or end. So many tiny thoughts are erupting inside of me.
Words dance about in my head as I think about love and the future.
Where has this excited wonderment approached from? Such tender feelings toward someone I hardly know make me wonder how desperately determined my heart is to fall in love.
But is that aching desire something to be so ashamed of?
Oh no! Love is all inspiring. Should we not be praised for our wish to give all to another human being? Does not loving another soul bring us closer to being godlike?
Seeing past all imperfection, loving unconditionally despite sins and mistakes? Taking someone for all that they are: the rashness, innocence, folly and insecurity, passion and forgetfulness.
It cannot be a dreadful thing to want love so fiercely. And it must be accepted that love truly is the way to happiness.
Oh even just the idea of it makes me feel as if my body does float above the ground. Tingling with such ardor.
Is not loving someone a way of giving them wings? To know you are loved, that someone has so severely and wonderfully latched themselves to you forever gives one such a feeling of security and vigor. That anything is possible, even the chance to defy gravity and all laws of physics and soar above the earth.
What delight there is to know of a force so perfect in the world that it not only grounds us with sturdy foundation but also opens the heavens of flight for our souls.
What silliness, I know, but never have I been so eager as to say those three words to someone (when all the timing is right) and put their heart at ease as I confirm to them my ever-present desire to be theirs and have none else, as they so earnestly feel for me.
Oh what exuberance, what youthful folly has slipped into my blood. Such excitement for thoughts and feelings unknown, so premature in nature yet so intentional in purpose.
Though such tiny seeds have been planted, I yet find myself embraced in excitement. The same kind I feel as I get to that part in a book where one must flip through to the end, begging for a glimpse of a word or sentence that confirms that all hope is won and love has conquered all.
But oh the journey there is just as delicious and I find myself longing to be in the middle of it, rather than the beginning. To be past the divide between the sure unknown and the birth of emotion and love.
Oh that I could jump that chasm and fall into the arms of assurance and routine. To find my hand constantly lost in his. My name breathless on his sleepy lips, our lives so clumped together that to unwind ourselves would create a mess and be foolhardy.
Oh to have that all again - dreams that we've painted together with the hope of our words. A future built with sacrifice and frustration and the knowledge that without one another we would cease to exist.
Words dance about in my head as I think about love and the future.
Where has this excited wonderment approached from? Such tender feelings toward someone I hardly know make me wonder how desperately determined my heart is to fall in love.
But is that aching desire something to be so ashamed of?
Oh no! Love is all inspiring. Should we not be praised for our wish to give all to another human being? Does not loving another soul bring us closer to being godlike?
Seeing past all imperfection, loving unconditionally despite sins and mistakes? Taking someone for all that they are: the rashness, innocence, folly and insecurity, passion and forgetfulness.
It cannot be a dreadful thing to want love so fiercely. And it must be accepted that love truly is the way to happiness.
Oh even just the idea of it makes me feel as if my body does float above the ground. Tingling with such ardor.
Is not loving someone a way of giving them wings? To know you are loved, that someone has so severely and wonderfully latched themselves to you forever gives one such a feeling of security and vigor. That anything is possible, even the chance to defy gravity and all laws of physics and soar above the earth.
What delight there is to know of a force so perfect in the world that it not only grounds us with sturdy foundation but also opens the heavens of flight for our souls.
What silliness, I know, but never have I been so eager as to say those three words to someone (when all the timing is right) and put their heart at ease as I confirm to them my ever-present desire to be theirs and have none else, as they so earnestly feel for me.
Oh what exuberance, what youthful folly has slipped into my blood. Such excitement for thoughts and feelings unknown, so premature in nature yet so intentional in purpose.
Though such tiny seeds have been planted, I yet find myself embraced in excitement. The same kind I feel as I get to that part in a book where one must flip through to the end, begging for a glimpse of a word or sentence that confirms that all hope is won and love has conquered all.
But oh the journey there is just as delicious and I find myself longing to be in the middle of it, rather than the beginning. To be past the divide between the sure unknown and the birth of emotion and love.
Oh that I could jump that chasm and fall into the arms of assurance and routine. To find my hand constantly lost in his. My name breathless on his sleepy lips, our lives so clumped together that to unwind ourselves would create a mess and be foolhardy.
Oh to have that all again - dreams that we've painted together with the hope of our words. A future built with sacrifice and frustration and the knowledge that without one another we would cease to exist.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
music monday on a wednesday
Because I forgot.
Because it's catchy and fun, and for a girl with hips I do so love the message.
Because it's catchy and fun, and for a girl with hips I do so love the message.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
"love is not a fickle thing"
Love is not a fickle thing
to brush off with time
or the age of ease.
Love is not a weakness,
laughable, nor demeaning.
Love does not explode in immediation,
does not shut off with the lights
or escape away with a fancy.
Love does not twitch
or fade
it is not a kiss
to be wiped off.
Love is not a pillar of salt
to be washed away or forgotten,
shoved aside or gagged.
Love stands for always,
crumbling only when the physical
vessel that protects our vulnerable hearts
begins to decay.
Love is a mountain that falls
only when the waters of forever
have washed away the memories and pain
the heartache and shame.
Love continues to grow
in patterns and forms unrecognizable.
Limbs of souls stronger than our mortal imaginings,
roots of creatures more corrupt
than our most feeble moments.
Love is forever changing
with a bitter taste
or crooked smile.
Into resentment.
Or acceptance.
(I've never been good at revising poetry. I tend to just sit and do, scribbling it out as fast as it will come. Never really thinking to move or fix. All my poetry is rough draft poetry).
Friday, August 15, 2014
as long as you're mine
I finally had the chance to go see the Off-Broadway production of Wicked in Salt Lake last night.
And when you're lucky enough to meet the one who chooses to stay you can make up for all that "lost time" when you were both floundering around in the swamp of single-hood.
I went alone.
Hitched an early train up, spent a couple hours doing some school shopping and eating, and then headed over to Capitol Theater.
It was as wonderful as I had expected, with a few twists on a plot I thought I knew so well from so often listening to the soundtrack.
Seeing the characters perform the songs also brought me a new perspective on those words that I could almost perfectly sing a long to.
Most importantly was the relationship between Elphaba and Fiyero. I mistakenly had believed it was always a moment of unrequited love, and that in the song As Long As You're Mine Elphaba had cast some spell on him. I never got to see his transformation, his love for her, that began from the start.
So as I sat watching them kneel there together singing about a love they knew couldn't work ("say there's no future for us as a pair, and though I may know, I don't care"), but it didn't matter because in that moment they had each other.
And suddenly I realized how very brainless I can be in relationships. How very brainless everyone can be.
Because even if there's the smallest chance that our tiny or momentous relationships might work out - the relationships with that the boy from the coffee shop, the best friend you've always known, the one who came back - if there's a sliver somewhere, or if there isn't, we should enjoy it.
Enjoy every tiny and big moment. It doesn't matter if it might end in a week, or three months, or three years, because in that moment you are his and he is yours.
I do such a good job at spending more of those precious moments wondering and worrying and sometimes even being immensely frustrated because things aren't going how I thought they would.
But wouldn't it be so much more magical to be in awe that he is there with you? That your "wildest dreaming" could never have imagined lying there with someone who cares about you?
And when you're lucky enough to meet the one who chooses to stay you can make up for all that "lost time" when you were both floundering around in the swamp of single-hood.
Yes, this is a sappy post, a call to action, a call to enjoy the little things.
And I apologize.
So maybe don't think of it that way.
Maybe just be grateful that you're lucky to have the chance to have someone. That you're lucky to love and be loved.
That somewhere there is a place (whether here and now or in the future) where someone who knows your name loves you and cares for you.
That somewhere there is a place (whether here and now or in the future) where someone who knows your name loves you and cares for you.
And in that place you will be holding each other.
As long as you're mine.
Image via katenikolas.tumblr.com
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Monday, August 11, 2014
Monday, August 4, 2014
music on a monday 3
Givers...in a kitchen you guys.
But really, this is kind of cool.
Go look up their music on Spotify too, the recorded version is just as good.
their webpage
Sunday, August 3, 2014
because he's married
I've thought of writing about him before. But it never felt like a hill I wanted to venture up (and I'm sorry this is a very raw post).
But then last week I found out that he's married.
The boy who broke me.
The one who completely ruined me has been married for over a year.
And he has a baby.
After all he did, all the crap he put me through, he's married and has a baby.
And I'm disgusted. Disgusted at myself for how I feel.
I guess I had always thought he would be miserable for the rest of his life to pay for how he treated me.
It only seemed fair.
But suddenly all these photos of him and his family flash before my eyes and scrape open old wounds. Feelings of such inadequacy, all the lies, the hurt, the late nights, the road trips, meeting his family, his cheating and other dirty secrets, falling on my knees to do anything and everything for him, the love and affection that I gave and wasted, compromising my whole being. It all came charging toward me like a full steam train packed with nothing but coal for the black heart I harbored for so long after him.
Yes, I rarely think of him anymore or what happened between us, but at the time I remember it being the hardest thing I ever had to go through.
It wrecked me for years and relationships to come.
I lost sight of my worth, my value.
I was nothing more than a pair of arms, and lips, and breasts. I was a bookmark in a boy's book of endeavors.
And for years to come that's all I saw myself as to any boy who ever paid the smallest attention.
There were times where people have asked if I have ever regretted anything in my life, and the only thing that has ever come to my mind was him.
And yet, as I think about who I have become since all of that, I've realized I can't regret it.
So much of who I have become, what I had to force myself to do in these last 5 years has been because of all the pain and destruction he caused in my life.
But without it, I would not have learned to become the strong person I am today. I believe that from it I learned to see the red flags a bit quicker. I've learned to not give in so easily.
To not give favors for love.
To demand respect.
To not compromise myself.
To see my worth.
But most importantly to love myself.
So yes, he's married, and he's probably happy. He may even be a good person.
But rather than begrudge his happiness, and still be angry for the disaster that we were, maybe I can start to forgive him because in the end all that matters is that I am a better person now.
And that I learned something from it all.
But then last week I found out that he's married.
The boy who broke me.
The one who completely ruined me has been married for over a year.
And he has a baby.
After all he did, all the crap he put me through, he's married and has a baby.
And I'm disgusted. Disgusted at myself for how I feel.
I guess I had always thought he would be miserable for the rest of his life to pay for how he treated me.
It only seemed fair.
But suddenly all these photos of him and his family flash before my eyes and scrape open old wounds. Feelings of such inadequacy, all the lies, the hurt, the late nights, the road trips, meeting his family, his cheating and other dirty secrets, falling on my knees to do anything and everything for him, the love and affection that I gave and wasted, compromising my whole being. It all came charging toward me like a full steam train packed with nothing but coal for the black heart I harbored for so long after him.
Yes, I rarely think of him anymore or what happened between us, but at the time I remember it being the hardest thing I ever had to go through.
It wrecked me for years and relationships to come.
I lost sight of my worth, my value.
I was nothing more than a pair of arms, and lips, and breasts. I was a bookmark in a boy's book of endeavors.
And for years to come that's all I saw myself as to any boy who ever paid the smallest attention.
There were times where people have asked if I have ever regretted anything in my life, and the only thing that has ever come to my mind was him.
And yet, as I think about who I have become since all of that, I've realized I can't regret it.
So much of who I have become, what I had to force myself to do in these last 5 years has been because of all the pain and destruction he caused in my life.
But without it, I would not have learned to become the strong person I am today. I believe that from it I learned to see the red flags a bit quicker. I've learned to not give in so easily.
To not give favors for love.
To demand respect.
To not compromise myself.
To see my worth.
But most importantly to love myself.
So yes, he's married, and he's probably happy. He may even be a good person.
But rather than begrudge his happiness, and still be angry for the disaster that we were, maybe I can start to forgive him because in the end all that matters is that I am a better person now.
And that I learned something from it all.
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