because i forgot what it feels like to feel beautiful

We trudged up into the wilderness a couple weekends ago and camped.

It was miserable and wonderful all at the same time: miserable because sleeping in a hammock is a nightmare and let's be honest, I'm still a little afraid of the dark. Wonderful because nature is a love affair of mine.

Jacob put up with me complaining, tossing and turning all night. Eventually switching hammocks just so I could get some semblance of sleep.

He repaid me for my crabbiness with some beautiful photos.

I often look at myself in the mirror and wonder how I've gotten here, wonder if I'm pretty, wonder what other people see, wonder if anyone would ever want to keep me around.

Sometimes photos catch me by surprise. I was exhausted, moving on a couple hours of sleep after running 18 miles the morning previous, and was now making breakfast for a whole gang of ragamuffins.

I credit all of this to Jacob- because of his talent he captured a moment of me that has never felt more true to how I feel lately. And it wasn't because he told me I was ok to look at despite the grass and grease stains.

Despite all the exhaustion, smelling like smoke, the crankiness, stress of school and work, and all the turmoil hiding behind these eyes he uncovered some beauty that I have forgotten about:

That somewhere deep down I am ok to look at, because somewhere deep down I'm an ok person.

Even if no one tells me ever again, I can still believe that.

photo credit

because it's so much easier when they're jerks

I have spent the whole summer defending him.

Believing in his goodness and everyone's ability to grow.

I don't think I pined away. Yes, I spent many nights asleep in his shirt, but I still put myself out there.

I dated, I flirted, I teased the emotions.

And I found hope in me and the idea of someone loving me for the mess I am.

There were some nights I cried, missing him, but as the days and weeks and months wore on those memories faded.

Only now when I read through past texts and remember him whispering in my ear as his hand found mine in the dark do I cry again. So maybe as long as I don't let that bittersweet taste of moments past linger I may not cry at all...

Or maybe the truth of it all, the truth that nothing has changed for him (that he still feels like breaking up was the right choice, that dating me isn't right - a new thought) hasn't fully sunk in.

Confusion still creeps in.

I'm forever baffled at how easily people can change.

I thought so highly of him, trusted him, believed those tender moments and sweet words he said.

In a way I never really understood until now, my heart breaks anew as I see someone I cared for so immensely change to something less than what I had hoped they were.

And yet, that little part of me, the one tucked away in the corners of the heart beneath my chest, the shy girl who hides there waiting...that little part of me who had fallen in love with him still might have wanted something different to have transpired tonight.

She still mourns her loss: a short-lived relationship that held more joy than any of the others. A beautiful possibility so near "what should have been."

But the logical voice in my head notes the almost 4 months of nothing. No note, no text, no call. And with that thought, the process of moving forward continues, almost at a breakneck speed.

Because it's always so much easier when they're jerks. When you tell yourself there's no way you would want to love or be involved with someone so thoughtless.

It's always easier when the person you cared for confesses to making it all up, to lying. That really they never meant any of it, because in your heart you want someone who would love and choose you and they are bluntly admitting that they are too rude and unkind to even stoop to that level.

And by some miracle, our hearts confront this truth and, like a slap in the face, wake up.

The rose-colored glasses fall away, all the signs we ignored begin waving their red-stained hands, and with that...suddenly it is so much easier to let go.

Because we believe we deserve better.

And we do.

We deserve someone honest.

And mind you, that person, that jerk may one day change and become that honest person. But not for you. For someone else.

And that's ok.

So though I may mourn the loss of what-ifs and maybes, I find myself content in understanding and facing the truth (and remembering that there is nothing wrong with me, sometimes it just doesn't work).

I just hope I looked damn beautiful as I walked away.

this is not one to trifle with

It's been a rough couple of days.

A song line keeps playing over and over again in my head, "when you think of love do you think of pain."

I openly admit to the fact that I am not perfect.

This weekend I realized how disgustingly bossy I can be, especially when frustrated. I can be snide and quick to anger at times; sarcasm flowing from me like a molten river of destruction.

There are times when I am not kind, when I am too stubborn and proud to admit my mistake or own ignorance.

Other times when I am so blindly selfish I do not realize the hurt or pain I cause to those around me, most especially the ones I love and the ones I am meant to help.

Jacob and I had an interesting conversation the other night, in which these two thoughts came to me:

1. I am tired of being selfish. I want someone else's problems to deal with and I want someone to help me deal with my problems.
2. We date to fall in love.

I've grown weary of friends calling to update on life and their first question always posed to me: "Are you dating anyone?" When do they start asking me about my writing, or my babies? Oh duh, I don't have any babies.

I don't date to get married. I'm looking to fall in love, marriage tends to just follow...

Marmee and I spoke last week. She told me my brother's concern was that I was desperate to be married and that because of that I was driving the men away.

I wrote to my sweet younger sister, serving a religious mission in California following that conversation and I write here some thoughts I shared with her. Please bear with me, it's the most exposed I have been:

"Marmee and I spoke the other day. She mentioned my brother's worry about my need for the next guy I date to be the one, but how can they worry about that and then turn around and stress the importance of marriage and its influence in our faith?

I have such a lovely belief that in the end it is only the two of you: your children will have their own spouses, and their children will have their own, and so on.

No, you cannot take the search for an eternal partner lightly, and no marriage does not solve any problems. It is only a new set, and I may one day miss having the struggles of single-hood. But how often I feel such a strong desire to be in love and to give of all this love I have.

I think loving someone is one of the most sacred, beautiful things - the ability to love unconditionally  might be one of the rare times we come to being Godlike.

So then why am I judged for wanting to fall in love? Why am I looked at as a crazy heathen for it? For speaking of it so often?

My patience is wearing thin. I feel my prayers becoming more and more shallow and small. I know that I will find someone I love and who loves me, but when? Why have I not been blessed with something I so righteously desire? What more can I possibly learn?

I hear the voice inside my head tell me the cure for my loneliness: service. Yet sometimes I do feel that there is a tiny little hole that can only be cured by the loving touch of someone you love embracing you. And I am ok with that thought."

I finally called Sol.

I told myself back in May that I would give him the summer.

As of today, summer is over.

He wasn't sure how he felt about meeting up, so he will be dropping my things off later this week.

I expect the worst, yet I'm not sure I would even want the best at this point.

My fight was ignored.

All those small feelings that could have been something so much more never had a chance to grow.

I was never acknowledged.

No thank you was ever given for the small tokens I gave.

I deserve more, do I not?

I want to believe that I only seek closure. An explanation, even a bogus one might sate my need.

I think I just need to hear it. To hear that there is no chance fall from his lips and allow me to completely and finally walk away.

And no longer feel the need to hope or even want it anymore.

But if that is so, why do I still dream of him kissing me so firmly and intentionally?

music on a monday 5

"I will remember your face, 'cause I am still in love with that place"

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.

"May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days

And out of that love, remake a world."

~Ray Bradbury

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.