What Dreams May Come

It's easiest to find when you're in the dark

A long time ago I had what I know as my first impression of God.  It was during a time of heartache and confusion.  I thought I would be broken for the rest of my life with no resurrecting ability for love and for trust.  I spent nights (months really) contemplating and running through everything that had happened in my relationship.  I felt that I would be able to let go of the relationship if I could just understand how a person could say something one minute and then take it back the next.  I just couldn’t understand how you could say something with so much intensity and then all of a sudden not believe in it anymore.  So I spent nights looking for an answer- I searched through music, books, alcohol.  What I found was God.  I would spend 4 out of 7 nights at church involving myself in his word and throwing myself into his work.  What I discovered through that entire process was that God was and would always be with me.  God was the only love that I could count on never losing.  

Then I moved away from home and everything that I had come to know.  There I met people from many different walks of life, learned about things I had never dreamed and engaged in activities I had always wondered about.  Slowly my perception of God changed.  I never touched the actual idea of God and existence but I slowly started to peel back all the layers leading to God.  I questioned everything and met people who pushed me to the edge of my beliefs.  Standing on the edge I looked back and slowly started paving a new path for myself- a new path that would lead me, in the very end, to the very place where I believe I started.  

Now I know a new God which is the same God but since God persists and time ticks there will always be a new and an old.  Now I am in the new...

I have changed and molded you (or you have changed and molded me).  Instead of up you are everywhere- living and breathing in everything.  I think I may have strayed from my designated path and for a moment I could not see beyond the trees to the sky above.  I could not find my Orion which was designated as my anchor and maybe because I had stopped looking but it wasn’t there.  There were moments when I glimpsed you, spoke directly with the heart of you.  I found you through the most unusual mediums and I found myself searching by quantity.  

I have travelled back in time and I am re-discovering that you are and will always be the only love that exists fully and unconditionally.  You are my heart which beats giving life to the seed of an idea called love.  Undying and suited with armor you persist through light and dark.  I know that the confusion I feel is birthed through my mind’s insecurities but when I coexist with one none of that matters.  It is the remembering that is hard.  It is so easy to forget.  

A couple months ago I witnessed an event that made me forget about you.  

This couldn’t be a test, this couldn’t be another one of life’s many hurdles to make me remember.  

But in the end, I am remembering and though it seems unfair you were right.  You are always right.  

Now I know a new Love which is the same Love but since Love persists and time ticks there will always be a new and an old.  Now I am in the new...

Scene: He was looking at me from across the table when he said it.  I had just ordered a Mac & Jacks and was taking my first sip when the words fell out of his mouth.  “How can you be in love one moment and then not in another? I just don’t understand”  I stared to the right (isn’t that where they say the truth comes from?) as I tried to pick out my words but there was no careful way to answer his question.  So I found honest and answered him this “I gave you everything that I had to give.  You thought I would never leave but in the end there was nothing that could make me stay.” 

I am drinking wine, eating pizza and writing to the sounds of a pseudo waterfall and to the sight of distant trees.  “How am I not me?”

Thank you

Willow Weep for Me

“Once an idea takes control of the mind it is nearly impossible to eradicate”
-Inception

Her mind became the soil in which the Universe chose to plant a seed-a seed of a thing called love. Her heart became the ground for heartache- rained on by jealously, fear and lust... Her feet would only take steps toward him, her arms dreaming of holding him. This seed of a thing called love grew into a very tall idea reaching into forever. “An idea spreads like cancer...it can either ruin or define a person.” Love turned into a very giving tree until there was only a stump of an idea left. And as we all know, a stump can still provide unconditionally for anyone in search of. 

She becomes the tree, strong and unmoving. Love passes through her like the changing of seasons and like the strong Willow she endures. Barren and cold she stands tall urging the skies to storm upon her. It is not until man comes with an ax in hand that she begins to quiver. She feels the first cut as he tests his blades of glory on her strong and beautiful body. He cuts into her with hesitation at first but as he continues his stride becomes steadier and soon she is falling over. Uprooted from the ground she lays on her side and watches as man cuts her into pieces to burn throughout the night. She’ll keep him warm until there is nothing left of her to burn. Her ashes scatter over the earth spreading the dying idea of a thing called love. 

A little girl plays in the woods while her daddy collects logs to be burned at the fireplace. She’s twirling in circles just to see her skirt fly out around her. It reminds her of Belle from Beauty and the Beast. She falls to the ground giggling and holding her stomach because her belly is starting to ache. Just then she sees a little butterfly standing in the dirt in front of her. The butterfly is an odd color made of shades of green on black. She is fixed on this beautiful creature and for a moment she snaps into a dream of her wedding day. She can’t see his face but she feels like she already knows him. The sky is blue and there are a few clouds scattered here and there. There are a sea of faces watching as she gets ready to make her way down the aisle. She can’t see what she is wearing but she knows she is beautiful. She is making her way down to a commitment of love, to a promise that love will always exist-that love will always be waiting. The little girl finds her eyes crossed as she looks at the little green butterfly sitting on the tip of her nose. She makes a wish and sends it flying away. 

Her mind is the soil in which the Universe chose to plant a seed- a seed of a thing called love. 

Was this my idea or yours?

Her Catch 22

She’s 43 sitting down to dinner with a glass of wine in her hand and Julie London’s record spinning in the background.  She has lit a single candle to set the mood for her single dinner.  She takes a bite and lets out a long sigh as she contemplates her day’s work for tomorrow.  She looks over at the empty place mat across from her and thinks back to her early twenties and her vigorous search for love.  Back then love seemed like a million bursting opportunities.  She was sure she’d be married by the age of 28.  Actually, she used to think that she’d have to fend the boys off just to wait until she was 28.  Then her 30s came and every tested love seemed to be her last chance.  But those would end and she’d find another and still there was no luck.  And now, 43, she was single and tired of looking for love.  They had failed too many times for her to hope any longer.  

Her ability to draw success in almost every aspect of her life had led her to find attraction in men of high ambition.  She wanted a man who was looking to reach the top of the ladder and still find ways to climb.  She wanted someone who would challenge her way of thinking and being yet make her feel comfortable with who she was.  She found a few ambitious men whom she really took a liking to and for a while it seemed that everything was going great.  They were intelligent and profound in demeanor.  The problem, though, with these ambitious men is that their ambition didn’t allow them time to settle down.  There was never any room for a ring, a family and a backyard.  They were constantly reaching and their ever rising ladder would take them away from her.  She met a few men that made her laugh a lot and carried good conversations with her.  They made her comfortable but didn’t seem to want anything more in life.  They didn’t dream of traveling or climbing any sort of ladder so in time she would be taken away from them.  

She just couldn’t seem to find a balance for herself.  She didn’t know what she was willing to budge on or if she should budge at all.  Would she settle for love or go on knowing that there is love but maybe just not for her in this lifetime?  Was she being unreasonable or was this her reality?  

She poured herself another glass of wine and sat in her thinking chair to reminisce on the loves of her life.  Closing her eyes she could picture them one by one.  How he had fought so hard to be with her, how she had fought so hard to be with him, the mutual separation, the screaming and broken china, the misunderstanding which led to an abrupt life’s end...  What were they doing now?  How had their lives turned out and were any of them able to settle down?  Did they think of her... 

Just then her cat Ralphie jumped up on her lap startling her into spilling some wine on her lap.  He licked it up and she smiled at him.  For the time being, he would be her lover and she would remain stuck in her catch 22.  

Who I perceive myself to be may not be who I am

We're on to Multiple Choices

This year seems to be a year of breaks up or engagements- if not engagements then making babies (either way, it’s a commitment).  I was on a drive with a friend today and she was telling me that her mom’s advice has always been that 3 months is all you need before getting engaged.  In other words, if you can stand someone for 3 months you’re golden.  Her sister, being the good daughter, followed moms advice and got married after dating for exactly 3 months only to enter into a binding agreement full of disagreements.  I should insert here that this family I’m speaking of is Korean in every way shape and form (born and raised).  So time goes by and the fighting persists so the thought of divorce comes ups (unheard of and looked down upon in Korea to the nth degree).  They don’t get a divorce though because something happens in that moment of despair and all of a sudden they’re working through it and now they couldn’t be happier with each other.  They’re in love, they just had a baby and they recently bought a place.  American dream? Maybe just a dream...

I’ve heard other stories like this, some of them involving family members and some of them belonging to faces I’ll never see.  It got me thinking about relationships nowadays and a lot of the friends I have.  It seems like nowadays people want to date for years on end.  We could chalk it all up to this:

A)  The discontinued faith in marriage 

B)  To always having some form of escape ready at your fingertips

I think I’m going to go with B right now.  We will date for years without having to really commit (no papers to sign when you want out, no court dates for settling what’s his/hers- you’re just out) and we keep going.  On and on without any real pressure to work it out because it’s so easy to leave (when it comes down to it at least).  

I keep getting into conversations with both friends and strangers about marriage and how crazy and scary it sometimes seems.  I mean, I don’t want a divorce and because of that I almost don’t want to get married (key word- almost).  But that’s a silly reason isn’t it?  What ever happened to sticking it out and working through things.  My mom always tells me it’s about compatibility and money- love is cool but nothing can last solely on love.  I ignore her mostly but who really knows?  

It’s weird that we find reasons to fight, that we hurt one another and that we cry.  Emotional beings- we love, lust, fight, disappear.  

We are always running, aren’t we?  Looking for reasons to leave, reasons to stay.  You hear of those situations where you’re locked in a room with someone (maybe even someone you hate) and all of a sudden you’re in love.  But in this day and age, we always seems to have one foot out the door.  

Quote of the day: “When did we have to start working so hard to hear our own hearts?”- David Shields (Professor at the UW, what what)  

Wait, am I a story teller?

"Besides me, I feel you're the best person I know"

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Can I hit Rewind please?

Can you ever really go backwards in life? Let’s say you were a part of something once and then you left. If you go back to it are you going backwards or are you only ever moving forward in disguise? This week is a week of contemplation. I find myself thinking about my past and what it would have been life if my past were always kept present. What would happen if I created routes leading back to my past making it my future. Would I be going backward?

What happens once you stop fighting for something. Where does that energy go? Does it just transfer toward something else? Does it get stored somewhere... waiting to re-emerge or just get buried? And can you bring it back into battle with you or is it too late? Once you let go is it gone forever? 

Every time you let something go a little bit of it chips off. it keeps on chipping off until there is nothing left of it... it’s gone. Over time, years, lifetimes, universes... can you pick up the pieces and reconstruct? Will there still be any pieces left to build with? For a second in time every thing can feel just like it did and the hope that it will all work can be born but is this an illusion or glimpse of reality? 

How do you know when enough is enough and is enough the only thing that lasts forever? 

Some people say true love never ends. No matter what, true love with break down all walls and forgive all wrongs. Love. Some doors never close, some doors can never be re-opened. 

Oo, Pandora is giving me “Yellow” by Chris Martin. Such a good version.

"For you I bleed myself dry... Look at how they shine for you."

My mind is wandering past me

What are dreams?

I just had a dream about a semi realistic situation that I hope never happens.  Semi realistic because I would never actually put myself in that position BUT it was also very very real because of what was happening.  Make sense?

Recently in my waking life I have had a few questions to which I don’t really want any answers.  I feel that in the very detailed dream I just had I got answers to all my questions and they all seem very plausible, very real.  

I guess what I’m getting at is this: How are we able to dream about such coherent situations with fluid conversations when in our waking life we haven’t even played those scenes out in our heads?  It’s 7am and I don’t think I’m making any sense.  I mean, if you haven’t even thought of the possibility how is it that in your dreams it happens?  Some people say that dreams are just a manifestation of the recycled subconscious.  But is it? 

I feel like dreaming about being a Sumo wrestler is a valid dream, it works for me.  But dreaming about real life and current situations with valid reasoning and sometimes a manifestation of fears and insecurities kind of boggles my mind, get me?  And the dream was so real that now it’s a memory of mine and I don’t want to keep it but it’s moving back to the “stored” section of my mind and I can’t delete it. 

When I was young I had dreams of monsters, jumping off mountains, and fighting wars (well I still dream about that one).  Those dreams were just crazy and whatever nightmare you had was just brushed off as part of your imagination- something that was too ridiculous to happen.  Now I dream of situations I never want to manifest, losing things I want to keep, and getting chances impossible to have.  Everything is so real and plays on so many of my real emotions that it never feels like I’m sleeping but rather constantly pursuing or running.  I wake up angry or hurt and I stay that way until the real self can counter the dream self which doesn’t always happen.  

Babble babble babble.  Basically I had a dream.  It shed some light on a situation I want to stay dark.  I don’t like it and I want to understand why it.  I know it was a dream but I don’t doubt a word of it (crazy? I think not).  Am I running?  Yes.  But in life we are only ever running to or from something right?  

Psychobabble. 

A: Faith

Do you believe that things only happen when you’re ready for them?  Can you make one step toward your non destiny?  I mean if all the steps have to fall into place for something to happen.. then what happens if all your life you choose to avoid it?

I’m a firm believer of everything happening as it should and at a certain time.  Well, as firm a believer as I can be.  You see, I don’t have it all laid out and I can’t figure out how it works but those aren’t reasons enough for me not to believe.  After all, there are a million people out there who believe in a higher power they can’t see, can’t feel and will never understand.  So I guess I’m okay.  

I’ve always thought that what is will be only when we are ready.  And I believe for the most part, you will reach that point when you are ready.  But what if I’ve been wrong this whole time?  If everything is already written... then I should believe that everything will eventually fall into place no matter what.  Every “wrong” reaction is just a detour to your final destination.  But what if we don’t all reach that destination?  What if we are able to go off course so extremely that we end up on a completely different path?  I’m not sure if I want to say that this other path is “bad” but I think that there is one path which is laid out specifically for us.  A path which will maximize our true potential.  And if we continually deny what is given then we will create a completely new ending to our story.  You’ll find a different love, a different career, a different environment- you’ll be a different person altogether...  

What about the other possibilities?  I think we end up on these other paths because of fear, misunderstanding and laziness (not all combined- or maybe).  These other paths aren’t “bad” but they aren’t “right”.  Does that make sense?  

I don’t know what I’m really trying to get at right now... well except that maybe I’m afraid of falling off, or never getting on, the right path.  I feel like it takes so much to be on the right path.  Not only do you have to be charging forward but you need everyone else’s cooperation.  I almost think that in order to maximize your true potential, everyone around you needs to be maximizing their true potential in life.  Then the chance of messing up kind of caves in on itself.  

Or maybe- everything just happens as it will and the only test is how you react to each and every moment because all that matters is being in the moment and taking it all for what it is.  

Either way, I’m working on firmly believing that everything that is meant to be in this lifetime will be.  And at it’s own time which is to say when it is my time.  If I can get that down then I won’t be so stressed out over the things that don’t seem to be going right in my life.  It always just comes down to faith...  That’s crazy, every time I think I’m running out some door I always get wheeled back in by faith.  

my Creative Spirit, rest. 

When the Best fall Short

I want to tell you a story with hopes that I can maintain its innocence. 

I was having an interesting chat a couple weeks ago with an old friend about our many mutual female friends.  He was telling me how surprised he was to find that these girls which he once held in such high regard (strong, independent, for lack of a better term- “heart breakers”) were actually kind of “weak”.  Do not be quick to judge for my friend is not that good at describing things.  What he actually meant was that he was surprised to find that in reality, these girls were getting their hearts broken and not the other way around.   He’d always thought that these girls would brush guys off like flies, could get any guy they pleased, and would move on without a care in the world.  What he saw as the years passed were tears, drunken nights of regret, bewilderment, pain…

At first I laughed because I feel myself that I’m a pretty strong and independent person but without a doubt I’ve had my heart broken and never would I have thought that someone would label that as a weakness.  The conversation got me thinking, though, about girls that I’ve known in the past that I probably felt the same way about.  Are we strong because we’ve been broken or are we faking it until we make it?  When I was younger I was talking to these two older girls that I thought were badass.  They didn’t give a shit about who they fucked (not whoring it up, just not so emotionally attached) and they didn’t care what people thought about them not to mention they were hot.  I was having an innocent moment talking about how anxious I was to lose my virginity thinking they would tell me all kinds of juicy details and tricks but instead they told me to wait.  They told me to wait for my one true love, someone that I thought I was really going to spend the rest of my life with.  It caught me so off guard and had me puzzled for a bit.  It turns out that they had both had bad first experiences and as a result their outlook of what sex meant for them completely changed.  They had been so hurt by their first that they took on this badass persona to make up for it.  Back then I would never have imagined that something like that could happen to them.  I didn’t think they could get hurt (haha I was naïve living in a fantasy world built by books, movies and music).

And lately I’ve been hearing a lot about break ups.  Some of them are mutual and go down clean but others are because some guys just can’t get their shit straight.  I used to surf fb and look at pictures just to see what people were up to (fb stalking?).  I’d look at pictures of girls I knew who were independent, beautiful as all hell, and perfectly happy in their relationships.  Now I find that they’ve been cheated on countless times, treated badly, etc.  It totally fucks with my view of relationships, love and worth.  Some of the most beautiful strong-willed girls are the ones that are getting the shit end of the stick.  I don’t ever remember being told as a little girl that love would be hard to come by.  I thought that if you were good, good things would come your way.  It turns out that it’s not always the case.   

I told this guy a few weeks ago that I wanted to write about love.  He asked me if I didn’t think I was too young to be writing about such a big topic.  I was taken aback and asked him if he had ever been in love.  He said no.  He said it’s all just infatuation.  How can you tell the difference?  Is there a difference?  Can one exist without the other? 

I have disliked Rihanna-Unfaithful since the first time I heard it on the radio but it’s on Pandora right now and for the first time… I think I actually really understand the song and I find that I can no longer hate on it.

Media glams up being beautiful, skinny and strong but that doesn’t make you a winner- it doesn’t give you what you want.  Everyone is hurting no matter what you look or act like. 

2 Straight Lines

Enter Text Here

Two straight lines.  Fuck.  She pulls another one out of the box and tries again.  Maybe I didn’t do it right, maybe I got a faulty box... The thoughts of panic race through her mind.  She turns her panic into concentration to push out just a little more.  5 minutes later she checks the results and sees the same 2 straight lines.  Fuck it, can’t deny the results anymore.  She discards everything in the trash, takes it out to the community bin outside and waits for him to get home. 

She gets out a rag from the bathroom drawer and starts to clean the floor but even that calming ritual can’t help her now.  She sits in a spot she hasn’t wiped yet and stares at the white bare walls of the bathroom.  She’s drawing blanks and can’t find a way to pull herself out of it.  She sits there for about 10 minutes- maybe more.  When she finally comes to her face is scrunched into a howl and she’s staring menacingly down at the bathroom tiles.  She shakes herself out of it, stands and goes to sit on the living room couch.  She rehearses every possible way to tell him but in the end she just chalks it up to whatever will come out of her mouth.  

He is late coming home that day.  By the time he gets home she is asleep on the couch.  He wakes her by gently shaking her arm.  She slowly sits up and before she knows it she’s blurting out the words “I’m pregnant”.  He stares at her for about 30 seconds never once questioning the validity of her statement.  Finally he says “What do we do?”  She shakes her head, her job for the night is done- he knows.  The rest of the night is a blur.  She is exhausted from her anticipation and now he is in a daze trying to register the turn their lives have just taken.

In the morning there isn’t any more running and he is telling her that they can do this.  This is what he wants and everything can be worked out.  This is their responsibility now and they should embrace it with open arms.  At first she resists and suggests other options.  She has always been an advocate of pro-choice.  He is persistent and through her fear she finds a way to believe him.  Her panic from the night before subsides and now she is happy and she’s smiling at him.  Her heart is smiling at him and she can’t believe how lucky she is to have such a great guy like him.  They spend the next few weeks talking about their lives together, baby gender and life goals.

She passes through her first trimester and everything is going smoothly.  A little bump is starting to show and she is amazed at the entire experience.  She has very little cravings- in fact none at all and and she isn’t as big and she imagined she’d be at this stage.  Everyone tells her that it’s normal but she sticks to her own prejudices.  The initial excitement has worn off for them both and they are just trying to prepare everything for their newest addition.  She starts to experience extreme mood swings and hardcore insecurities to which he reassures her by brushing things off.  They get stuck in a cycle of insecurities and avoidance and one day he wakes up and realizes that he’s not ready for any of what is coming.  He waits about a week trying to let the feeling pass through him but it refuses to budge and so finally he does.  He can’t face her so he writes her an apologetic letter telling her how much he regrets it and wishes he could change it.  At the end he signs his name and draws a smiley face.  When she’s done reading the letter sitting on the living room couch with an apartment half empty all she can focus on are the two lines acting as the smiley face’s eyes and she’s zapped back to the first 2 lines she saw and “Fuck” escapes her lips.  

Fuck.

(I’ll probably continue this story at some point...)

So how do you really feel?

Jeannie145

He might have been her Lover

The rain sounds angry to her as she sits in the car staring at her favorite tree reminiscing on all the times she had turned to it for comfort.  She is parked in the darkest corner of the parking lot seeing the tree for the first time from this outside angle.  This interaction alone makes her sad but she knows she needs to be here.  As she sits there with the rain drumming all around her she attempts to reconnect, rediscover and revisit.  At first she finds it hard because she’s looking to recreate a moment without any of the right tools.  She normally looks at this tree from the other side in a high window which had always given her the advantage of time and a top-down viewing angle. Now, completely surrounded by the rain of their first meeting and a bottom-up viewing angle, she can’t help but feel rushed and deserted.  It doesn’t matter though because pretty soon she is crying about everything and nothing.  Wild emotions of sadness and fear are gushing out of her but she has no real idea as to why these feelings exist.  She looks at the tree and it’s all there, flooding back to her are memories of beautiful conversations and love.  She doesn’t want to leave the parking lot but she knows that soon the parking attendant will make his rounds and he’ll catch her in a very awkward fit of tears which can want of no explanation.  

She thinks of their inability to work things right and for a moment she finds hate for him because he has finally succeeded in making her believe that love is not enough.  She starts screaming at the steering wheel and wants to start honking the horn- anything that would be louder than the thoughts in her head- but she holds back.  That would be too dramatic and alarming and she was not the type to cause a scene.  How can love not be enough to sustain anything and everything that we dream of?  She pushes the thought out of her head and burns it out of her heart.  Love is the only thing that never dies, it is in all of us and will outlive all the fear that we share.  

The rain starts to slow and she is snapped out of her wild fit of emotions.  She wipes the tears from her eyes just before they start to drip off of her chin.  She looks up at the tree with the street lamp highlighting its nudity and whispers her promise of returning in the spring.  That is always when they are both at their very best.  She starts the car, checks the rearview mirror out of habit and steers out of the parking lot.  Once she has turned back onto the main street everything is forgotten as if it never happened.  Passing with each second she is moving forward- leaving behind what is too heavy to hold.  You would never know she had been crying because she has forgotten herself.  Time swallows what you will give without a hint of second thoughts.  

Will our Love Survive?

We have broken up before and each time it happens it reiterates how much I love him.  I know I have two choices when we break up.  Fight for what I believe in- fight for love or walk away and find new roads to pave and new loves to dream with.  Each time the fork in the road appears I sit in meditation with my intention journal and ponder what it is that I actually want to pursue.  Which option do I think will bring me happiness and satisfaction.  I have tried to take the latter but upon taking the first couple steps I am overcome by a terrifying feeling.  I turn to look at the other road and it always seems that no matter how crooked or muddy that path may be it is the one that I undoubtedly want to be on.  So I turn and walk through my concrete jungle of love for him.  

Well, this past month I came to the fork again.  I was surprised to find myself there because it seemed as though we had really been able to put the dysfunctional cycle of break ups to make ups behind us but I guess there isn’t any security in anything you do...  For a month I pondered, meditated and drank.  We remained friends and in constant contact.  Afterall the break up only happened because we were both confused at our standstill position in both our relationship and life.  I remember thinking, this time is really it- make it or break it.  This past week everything kind of came to a collision point where we didn’t speak for about 5 days and the reality of the break up really started to sink in.  I went through my frantic ups and downs of misreading and re-reading facebook statuses, myspace comments, etc,  (all the social networking devices I swear were created by the devil himself) and he went through the downward spirals of heartache and mistakes.  

We saw each other last night and I had spent the entire day pre-meet up accepting the break up only to have him ask to work things out.  He said that this was all a big mistake and that he loved me and wanted to work things out.  And of course, I love him.  But for some reason right now I am unsatisfied.  Maybe now I am at too many breaks ups to make up.  Or maybe it’s too soon to tell and all of the stress and heartache from the past month is just taking a little more than a day to wear off.  I don’t know what it is but it has left me with a weird feeling and too much contemplation to brush off.  

During this past week for the first time in my life I gave weight to the saying that Love is not enough.  I have never believed in that statement but now I am questioning whether it can be true.  Can this dysfunctional cycle that we constantly participate in be outweighing the love that we feel?  

And maybe that thought alone is the scariest thought for me to accept.  

We just got back together last night... I’ll update again when my nerves have calmed.      

Struggling,

Jeannie145

Lost in the sounds of music

They are fighting again.  These fights don’t happen often but when they occur it is like a battle to see who can fit the most words into one breath because if every lingering thought is not released and thrown soaked in flaming oil at that very moment it might never escape.  And that possibility is the darkest part of hell for both of them.  You can hear her stringing words together as if she were playing a guitar and has suddenly figured out the necessary chords to make a beautiful, cold and catchy chorus.  He has no chance right now to even get in a beat and he knows this so he keeps a mental note of every blasphemous note that she strings toward him so that when she finally stops to take a breath he can unleash his drum set upon her. 

She needs to say everything and anything that she can think of and by the melody of her strumming you can tell that she’s been thinking up these chords for a very long time now.  She strums faster not because she fears forgetting but because she knows that once he starts drumming she’ll find a million reasons to hold her tongue which is exactly what she is trying to avoid.  Every note she strings together sounds amazing to her and she keeps going until she can’t and then he steps in without a moment to waste.  

His drumming starts off slow because he’s scrambling to refute everything that she has just played for him.  He wants to do it in order but he’s thinking too fast for his speaking and he realizes that he is about to give up his moments of glory so he just starts beating his sticks against the snare because it doesn’t matter how it comes out it just matters that it does.  At first it sounds like missed beats but then it takes on a wonderful bass line and he’s found his nook and he is picking up speed and volume.  She sits there staring at him first in disbelief and then in hateful understanding. She doesn’t want to understand because she doesn’t want to give in and admit defeat but she can’t turn a deaf ear and soon she has put the guitar down in obvious defeat but it’s too late and he is sweating from his drumming and the bass is reverberating through his soul and she’s completely lost him.    

It’s too late to take it back.  The sounds of music are rarely ever forgotten and they replay the drum beat and guitar chords over and over in silence.  Contemplating and calculating.  Contemplating the rights and wrongs, the newly established wounds, the will to hold out longest.  It’s the loudest when it’s quiet.  Mindlessly engaged in everyday things they carry about as if nothing has happened while slowly their wounds become deep inverted wells swallowing them whole.  

I heard them fighting and this is how it translated.

Strumming,

Jeannie145

If you and I had the chance to converse

It’s amazing how fast time flies by.  Just a couple weeks ago my co-workers started flipping through my University of Washington planner.  I like to keep track of everything and I mean everything.  I use different colored highlighters so that I can keep track of certain events, bills, etc.  I write down little codes for movies I watch, meals I eat, interesting conversations I have.  One of my co-workers asked me if I felt “burdened by this upkeep”.  I thought about it and answered “no”.  Keeping my planner up to date is a natural part of my day.  It is like brushing my teeth, taking a shower and eating-  I feel better after I do it.  It might sound a little crazy to you to keep track of so many things but it helps me to remember.  I don’t know what came first, my inability to remember little parts of my day or my reliance on being reminded.  I think they can both birth the other.  

It also helps me to realize how much time passes between two events.  Sometimes a day goes by and I could’ve sworn it was actually a month.  2 days and I’m starting to feel as though time will run out if I don’t act fast.  So I look at my planner and I realize, it only just happened.  And I’m calm again.  15 days ago I started keeping a small journal of my days.  I’ve always kept journals but this one is different.  It documents what I think are important events happening every single day.  Why am I doing it?  I guess you could say I’ve finally started my book.  Amazingly, it is turning out to be everything that I imagined my book would be.  The only reason I hadn’t started before was because I didn’t know how.  Now I know.  

I just started reading from Day 1 and again I am amazed at how little time passes between each event.  Each day is so monumental that it feels like a lifetime...which I guess in a sense it is.  

I guess what I’m getting at is that... sometimes I panic because I feel like I’m running out of time but then I look at all these reminders I’ve set up for myself and I remember that time isn’t going any faster than I need it to.  It also makes me think that patience just needs an hour to work, maybe just a minute.  

I’m not saying that I have enough time to take things for granted.  No- I’ve learned that there never is enough time for that.  You’re screwed if you think so.  I think I’m just saying that I have time. 

"Love in the Time of Cholera"

Jeannie145

My very first time..

It is my first time.  I am extremely nervous and I don’t know that I actually want to go through with this but I feel as though it must be done.  I have to know what this is like for me to know who I am- at least that is the way I’m feeling right now.  I’m looking at him and I swear he knows that I’ve never done this before.  He must be able to see it in my face, my tremblings legs and my busy hands.  Half of me wants to vomit the one drink that I’ve been able to put down.  I want desperately to drink more so I can ease the trembling felt down in my cells (I swear that is where it starts) but it feels like everything is moving backward.  I can feel his eyes on me, sizing me up trying to figure out what kind of girl I am.  I stare blankly back at him.  I don’t want to give him any impressions that I will not be able to live up to.  But my blank stare turns into a scared look turns into a lazy look turns into a nonchalant seductive look. I don’t know how it happens but it does and I can’t help it.  Right now I’m just going with the flow, if I think too much I’ll fuck it up.  He asks me if I want to smoke a Mary Jane and I giggle at the way he refers to it and accept.  I’m sure it will put me at ease and make the whole process easier- almost as if it never happened.  It does the exact opposite.  After the first hit my mouth dries up.  It feels like a dead plant and no amount of water can revive it back to life.  Then I feel it creeping down into my femininity sucking all the moisture dry.  I am a dust bowl and I am mildly freaking out.  Mildly because if I let it go full throttle I will shrivel up into a dried eggplant and this night will never work out.  I talk myself back to sense and I start taking gulps of the nearest thing to me- Vodka mixed with White Rum and Pineapple Juice.  At this point I’m just thinking fuck it.  The lights start to dim and brighten and I’m thinking what a weird trick.  Then I realize... maybe I’m just drunk and it makes me smile but it’s a mistake because he sees me smile and he thinks that its his que to dive right in which is exactly what he does.  For a moment I think wait but I don’t say anything.  For another second I think this is wrong but I don’t say anything.  And then it happens and it’s over and it wasn’t the best but it was what I thought I was looking for.  My first one night stand.  Yeah- now I can say that I’m an accomplished woman.  I’m part of something bigger now.  A big club of one nighters, of care free lovers.  That’s me.  But for some reason it doesn’t feel like I thought it would.  I feel violated because it wasn’t love.  I feel angry because I thought I needed it.  I feel betrayed and there is no reason.  It just is and I feel disgusting.  I lay in a ball and I shut my eyes tight hoping to see nothing but I see something and it’s dark.  

Turns out I fucked it up anyway.  

Regretful,

Jeannie

This is a true story

Distant Dreamer

This is a story about a guy from Korea who married a girl and lived in Alaska.  How he met his wife is unknown.  All we know is that they fell in love and lived together in her parents‘ house.  A year passed by and she got pregnant.  They were excited and happy waiting for the end of 9 months that would bring them a daughter.  Their daughter was born and everything seemed perfect when all of a sudden the man was struck by fear of having a family and asked for a divorce.  Their daughter was only about a month old.  He left Alaska and flew back to Korea to live with his parents.  He drank every night because sleep just wouldn’t come to him.  He would fall on his bed after sex with names he couldn’t remember and too many drinks to keep him sane.  His parents would leave a bottle of water by his bed and cover him with blankets.  There was nothing else they could do for him. That was his sleeping pill- sex and alcohol.  5 years past and he got a call from his ex-wife asking that their daughter be allowed to see him.  She was entering school and had heard all kinds of stories about other girls‘ dads and wanted to see hers for the first time in her memories eye.  He agreed and flew them out to Korea to see him.  The minute he saw his little girl at the airport all the memories of her birth flooded him to the point of near tears.  They spent about a week and a half with each other.  He showed them Korea and some of his favorite places.  When the trip was nearing his ex-wife asked him if he wanted to try to make things work again.  After all this time she was still in love with him.  He declined and said that he just couldn’t see himself going back to that life.  He had truly been in love with her but that time was so far gone now.  She and her daughter flew back to Alaska.  

During the 5 years he had been sleeping around he had been looking for a wife.  Someone that he deemed “the best” and had all the “best” traits.  He tallied up pros and cons for the girls that he had been dating and finally landed on one.  He decided it was time to ask her for her hand so he took her out to dinner.  Ring in pocket, question rehearsed in his head he sat across from her at the table and waited for the right moment.  He reached into his pocket and started to say the words when all of a sudden he felt like his mouth had gone desert dry.  He was choking on words and his hand seemed to be stuck in his pocket.  He couldn’t say what he wanted and his hand would not pull out the ring.  A woman’s intuition is very deep and she immediatey understood that he was trying to propose.  Witout waiting for the question she started saying yes yes yes yes yes to which he replied, let’s just enjoy this dinner and talk after.  After the dinner he broke up with her.  He had realized through that experience that he was still- had always- been in love with his ex-wife.       

The next day he called his ex-wife and made preparations to get married once again but in Korea.  She flew back out with their daughter and they were married and have been in love since.  They are much older now- I think probably in their late 50s.  They laugh about their young adult years and look at each other with an adoration that I never imagined could survive even 5 years.  Their story still has bumps but in the end, it is a love story to be dreamed.  

Alcoholics Anonymous

Alcoholics are born out of heartache.  It is the most innocent act because it starts so simply.  In its infant stage alcoholism is planted by a series of rejections.  Watered by sex, mind games, naivity, and a misconception of love (misconception to love).  Alcoholism- a conceived disease of the mind looked upon with some of the strongest feelings of disgust.  Which is funny- the emotion that alcoholism may invoke in the viewer is most likely the same invoked in the viewed.  Criticized for a lack of strength alcoholics are constantly finding reasons to sit steadfast by the bottle.  Solace is found in the crowd, the sensation, and the memory loss that it impedes upon you.  A crucial cycle drinking into a void only to spend the entire next 12 hours of your wake regretting the number, and repeat. That is the blossoming moment, the beauty of alcoholism revealed.  A black hole of your own volition, drink when and as many times as you please.  Then winter comes and your leaves start to turn a strange shade of brown- a shade you’ve seen on some perspiring moments you’d rather not share.  And the mere association in your mental eye kills a few petals.  And as the frost approaches you realize that now instead of a happy oblivion you have been thrown into a snowstorm of drunken regret. You can no longer escape the memories of your loss, instead you are sitting in a pool of alcohol, vomit, memories and the worst- the inability to enter the void.  Now you are just inches from your beloved void, a limbo more like the hell you always heard about in church as a young kid.  A hell you don’t believe in, yet here you are.  Dying back into the earth, going back to the center...

Preventative Care

107 Degrees and Rising

It’s been a while, this I know.  I’ve been all over the place lately, especially with my thoughts.  Today is a different day.  I’ve found something and I’m stuck on it- or rather I am stuck with it.  I think I must spend a good portion (maybe slightly over 50%) of my time trying to un-stick myself from this filthy goop but any attempts just secure my place in this pile of crap.

This is real talk for anyone who has an ear out there.  Listen up.

I’m talking about the men in our lives who think they’re slick because they get away with things.  The men in our lives who think they’re smooth because they’re gaming up 3 different girls at the same time while keeping all of them completely in the dark- not even a question surfacing on their brow.  Yeah, you know who I’m talking about.  He’s your boyfriend, he’s your friend, damn- he is the guy that you just started talking to last week.   

This is the break down as I see it:

He is your boyfriend.  You are happy together and comfortable with each other.  Routine.  Then slowly but surely he starts to facebook message other girls, maybe even go so far as to text them on his I-Phone.  It starts off innocent enough but starts creeping toward smooth operator status.  Before you know it he’s messaging her at least once a day- little tid bits about his day, his beliefs, his interests.  God forbid they start actually calling each other at night for a little 2 hour phone session 2 or 3 times a week.  He’s thinking he’s slick, best of both worlds.  After all, this is all innocent right?  It’s just a phone call, it’s just a text message- he’s not sleeping with her, just talking.  Just talking.  But what does talking lead to?  Isn’t attraction (not physical) born out of conversation?  The beautiful ability to converse while stimulating the other’s mind and thus resulting in a want for more.  Conversation.  And if you can hold that level of interest you’re golden- make way for dinner, movie, and breakfast in bed. 

He is your friend.  You watch and probably laugh which slightly frowning upon his constant texting.  Who is he texting?  You’ve met them all- his girlfriend (you’re probably friends with her), the girl he just met the other month that he’s been finding more and more interesting (you’ve had a drink with her at least twice), and that ex-girlfriend he just can’t seem to part paths with (you don’t really like her but what’s that got to do with any of this).  You know he’s still wining and dining with his ex, sometimes not leaving her place until 2 in the morning but he never tells you what goes on, just makes you laugh while teasing you about inside jokes that you’ve developed with him over the past couple years that you’ve known him.  He is a stand up guy, charming in all areas and very polite.  Yet you know he isn’t being faithful to his girlfriend yet he claims to love her and you believe him.  He enjoys the company of his ex- they were, after all, very good friends to begin with and he finds this new girl extremely interesting.  

He is the guy you just started talking to.  You met him through a friend and he is charming as hell.  You think you heard that he has a girlfriend but he never mentions it so you disregard it as just some offhand comment that holds no truth.  You won’t ask him either because if he’s talking to you, then chances are he doesn’t have a girlfriend- that’s what you tell yourself at least.  Whenever you see him he gives you that look that just makes you melt all over and he makes you laugh a lot.  He starts messaging you on facebook and it makes you feel kind of special.  Like you’re starting to develop inside jokes with him.  He’s starting to tell you things about his day, his beliefs, his interests.  At this point, it wouldn’t even matter if he did have a girlfriend.  He is talking to you now- you’re the one he calls at night.  Sometimes you wonder about her, what about her he doesn’t find stimulating anymore but that thought quickly fades as you look into the mirror and smile at the sight of you and all your confidence.  She obviously isn’t doing it for him so why don’t you.

He thinks he is so slick.  But all I see is a box being built around him slowly shutting him in.  Does he think about the consequences of the game he is playing?  Does he think about the pain?  Not the pain that he will inflict upon the others but upon himself?  I don’t know.  It wouldn’t seem so but then again I really don’t know.

There are many ways to look at this, let’s just start with this and see where it takes us- or leaves us.

We are created in God’s eye to encompass heaven and you will overlook us because heaven is not what you seek.  It is glory you are after and though one is produced through the other, it doesn’t work on tails.  Heads or Ass- your call.

Quote of the Day: “What lasts is women recognizing the men they come to love as victors whatever happens, and men honouring each other because of their shared experience of defeat.  This is what lasts!”    

-Anonymous

I overhead this girl the other day…

I was waiting at a bus stop the other day.  It was supposed to be a pretty nice day so I had worn sandals out but it turned out (not to my surprise) that the weather man had not been on point with his forecast predictions.  So I was trying to put some energy into warming up my feet when my thoughts were interrupted by some girl’s conversation who was sitting to my right.  Her speaking volume was progressively turning up so much so that it became impossible not to eavesdrop.  Since my feet weren’t getting any warmer and the bus had not yet arrived I let myself sink into her world.  I think she was talking to a friend about a guy she was seeing and by the sound of it, things weren’t going so well.  Basically I let myself fall into a conversation about sex and dating.  She started screaming into the phone (keep in mind we were at a bus stop in a very busy area) about how she went on a date on Thursday with this guy that she had seen before and decided not to have sex with him.  She claimed that beforehand he had been very nice and attentive and that afterward he just kind of brushed her off and hasn’t called her since.

At that point my bus came so I was unable to hear the rest of her story.  I was glad to be able to pull myself out of that but I feel for her and her situation.  It got me thinking on my bus ride about sex and the role it seems to play in relationships—and I mean all relationships (friends with benefits, one night stands, bf/gf, etc.).  Her claim was that she didn’t have sex with him so he’s kind of moved on from her, I think the expression to use would be that he has kicked her to the curb.  Sex and relationships seem to be a recurring theme that I keep encountering lately and its starting to look more and more like a double edged sword.  If it’s not the whole “I didn’t have sex with him and now he’s not calling me back” then it’s the “I had sex with him and now he doesn’t seem too interested anymore”.  These are really just blanket statements, I mean there are a whole lot of sub categories falling under these situations but for the sake of keeping this short we’ll just go with what we’ve got so far. 

The question, then, that I have in mind is: When did sex become such a deciding factor in all of these human interactions that we seek?  I mean, when did we start believing that a guy was either interested or not in us just because of something like sex?  Some girls are fucked up off a guy not calling back because they didn’t have sex with him.  Why be fucked up, obviously if he’s not calling you back because you didn’t have sex with him he’s probably not that great of a guy.  And so you have sex with him, and he doesn’t call you back.  Maybe the question I should be asking is: How did sex become so powerful? 

So there was this guy that I used to like.  The problem?  Well, I’m a pretty conservative girl—I don’t like to wear extremely flashy things or show too much skin.  I also prefer to take my time before getting physical.  Don’t get me wrong, I love to have fun, I just love being cautious even more.  That’s not the problem, the problem was that there was another girl who liked him and she was a completely different story.  She loved showing her body (she had a nice body, why not) and I don’t want to point fingers or anything but I want to say that she was a bit more promiscuous than I.  This guy and I, we had great talks, long talks.  We got along well and seemed to be interested in all of the same things.  He showed a great interest in pursuing things further but for some reason I was threatened by her.  I don’t even think they had conversations lasting more than 30 minutes but for some reason if I knew she was going to be around I became doubtful of his interests in me.  And this was all because I knew she would have sex with him in a second, I knew she would be wearing tighter and more revealing clothing than I.  Why did I feel like those things gave her power over me?  When did sex become such a powerful negotiating mechanism.  I’ve seen sex treated like a make or break turning point in relationships.  It’s not about sex though, or is it?

I’m a pretty confident person but for some reason I can still fall victim to insecurities dealing with what I will and will not do to appeal to a guy.  I’m trying to break the mold but it’s been forming for over 21 years.  It’s a task but I’m determined.

What do you think?  Is sex exercising power in your life?

Curious,

Jeannie145

I found passion hiding in a corner somewhere

Why do I feel as though the passion has gone out of love?  Why do we feel the need to take things in strides?  If someone breaks up with us we stomach it, we calm ourselves with the repeated thought that “this too shall pass”.  So it didn’t work out this time, there is always next time, someone else, a new beginning.  We stomach the fact that the other is leaving, we let it go… or at least we pretend to do so.  I once had a guy leave me.  I sat there quiet at first.  Maybe I was stunned, I can’t really tell looking back on it now.  My initial thought?  Be okay with it, be okay with it, be okay with it.  So I smiled back at him, or I think I smiled—I tried anyway.  And I agreed, said it was probably for the best.  The storm seemed to pass, in fact it never got up to speed… or so it seemed.  I let the thought sink deeper.  Then my insides started screaming.  BUT, I didn’t budge.  I didn’t move because I had to be okay with it, or I thought I had to be okay with it so I acted as if I was okay with it.  I’m okay with it now, I wasn’t okay with it then.  Why didn’t I say anything?  Maybe because I had been told before that to be the bigger person you had to be calm, you had to be okay with things, you had to show people you were strong and that you didn’t need them.  Life goes on, and it does but where is the passion?  

I once broke up with a guy. I had a really hard time getting those words out of my mouth.  I want to break up.  He was a good guy, oh boy was he a good guy.  There wasn’t any passion in our relationship.  I think we were young and timid.  We didn’t want to overstep boundaries, we didn’t want to come off needy or possessive.  We didn’t know what those things meant, we just didn’t want to act in a way in which we were uncertain.  So we didn’t act and I became disinterested.  Funny how the measures you take to prevent something can somehow find its way back to you and be the very thing to break all the pieces you were holding together.  I was sitting there next to him trying to get the words to come out of my mouth.  He knew, he could tell what I was doing.  He held my hand.  He held my hand to let me know that it was okay, that I was okay.  Five months later we got back together and it was lit with a big new flame.  

I think sometimes we leave relationships because we don’t know what we’re doing.  We don’t know how to share this space with someone.  I mean we spend most of our lives doing things for ourselves, eating what we want when we want, going out for as long as we want… Granted we had parents with curfews but that’s not the same as sharing time and space with a significant other.  All of a sudden we have to be so mindful of their wants, feelings, habits.  It’s a lot to take in.  I think sometimes we just get scared.  So one of us gets scared and the other gets what… prideful? Timid? Understanding? When they say they’re leaving why do we act as though it’s okay?  Why not fight for this love, this love is worth it isn’t it? 

I once had a guy leave me.  He didn’t leave for long.  I tried to stomach it and then my inner being started to scream.  Instead of shoving her back down I let her come out.  I held on, it was what I knew I wanted and I didn’t think he knew.  Maybe he did, I’ll never know.  Passion.  Where did all those people go?  The ones that hold on through thick and thin.  The ones that believe in you and love so much that they will wait through all your waged wars with the world and yourself just so that you see them.  Maybe I’m just reacting to a movie I just saw.  He existed in that movie.  He made me realize that I didn’t know him.  I haven’t seen him around, I don’t even know where to start looking for him. 

Be passionate.  Don’t let your love get lazy.  People need to feel you, I need to feel you.  I need to know you’re there. 

Exist.

Jeannie145

I AM that I AM

Ever since the man I met on the airplane I have felt my life slowing changing.  I guess you could call it an evolution since things seem to be progressing.  I don’t know why I am more inclined to call positive progress an evolution while perceived negative “progress” seems like backward pedaling.  I think some of you would disagree with my sentiments and call all of it an evolution since it is a change from what was.  I used to meditate, not as often as I would have liked to but it happened.  Meditating used to make me sleepy, sometimes I would even choose to let go and take a nap mid-meditation.  I think that in those days I didn’t really have a goal in my meditations except that I wanted to clear my mind, push away thoughts, relax.  I would think “Breathe in, Breathe out.”  Repeated words in my head to take the place of other thoughts, all thoughts.  “Breathe in, Breathe out.”  Little thoughts would creep in from the side, peek from below, somehow seep through my breathing.  I can’t say that my meditations always worked to clear my thoughts.  Recently I’ve been meditating a lot more and my sessions have changed.  I no longer try to clear my mind of all thoughts but instead repeat goals for self over and over so that I am no longer thinking thoughts but just being them.  I state who I am and who I want to be trying to fuse them together so that I AM. 

I AM calm

I AM patient

I AM understanding

I AM kind

I AM confident

I AM supportive

I AM not jealous

I AM secure

I AM positive

I AM love

I AM appreciative

I AM relaxed

These are just the basics that I repeat so that I can, in time, embody it body and soul.  I can already see my reactions to the world changing, my reactions to you are all out of love and it feels amazing. 

This is who I am, this is what I want, you are where I am going. 

“Imagine me.  I do not exist if you do not imagine me.”

-Lolita

Be,

Jeannie145

We are finally sinking

“It is possible to speak with our heart directly.  Most ancient cultures know this.  We can actually converse with our heart as if it were a good friend.  In modern life we have become so busy with our daily affairs and thoughts that we have lost this essential art of taking time to converse with our heart.”

          -Jack Kornfield

I know this guy in his late twenties who may have finally gotten fed up with love.  Tired of the search for love, tired of the failures of love, tired of the breaking, mending, hoping for love.  I have met people both before and after this breaking point.  It is rare that I will meet someone and be able to know them long enough to see it from beginning to end.  “End” might be a little dramatic but from where I’m standing, it looks extremely dark over on his side.  

At the same time that it is refreshing to see people in the beginning stages of love just short of enough heartaches to break it is also nauseating to see the kind of hope that they hold for the truths that can be expected through the discovery of love.  Maybe they have no idea that sometimes love is not enough to overcome separate interests, sometimes it is not enough to ensure commitment, sometimes it isn’t enough for forever.  Then again, maybe they are just the good ones among us.  The ones that cannot be broken because they are staring defeat down with all the heart that they have.  Maybe they have been broken many times over but have figured out some way to continually mend the pieces back together.  Mend them back so that you would never guess the pieces had ever been shattered and strewn across the surface.  How long will they last?

I know this guy in his late twenties who may have finally gotten fed up with love.  I have seen him get beat down by girls holding his heart above their heads.  Each time I have witnessed a rebirth.  His seemingly unfailing hope, unfailing drive to find the love that he knows he deserves.  He slowly picks up the pieces that they’ve left behind and molds them back into shape, sews the seams back together to show brand new.  Then he gives it away without hesitation, without a second thought.  He waits for another possible her to come around and he gives her his heart with all the hope and optimism he can muster in the world.  Whatever happened before is past, it is just a memory and it isn’t affecting any of his decisions now.  He loves like it is his first time and she believes him. 

I have seen the ones that have given up, the ones that are so broken that it seems they have forgotten what a wonderful gift love is.  I have seen the ones that are still tormented by loves lost, a reoccurring dream with love’s folding chair beneath them.  I have seen them and I found comfort in him that held onto hope almost naively.  I found comfort in his existence, his possibility. 

I have seen him lately and he is not the same.  He is not as I remembered him and I am sad that the memory is now tarnished.  He is changing and the transformation is unbearable to watch.  I want to save him but I am not the one.  I held his heart above my head and watched him as he scrambled to put the pieces back together.  I see his transformation now and I am sad that I was a participant in the break down of a beating heart much stronger than most.  

Prayer to the universe: Transfer all that hope to those with their hearts low and their heads down.  I am still unbroken, my search for love is never ending.  I pray that you do not show me the same fate that my friend was given.  The world cannot persist if our generation is filled with thoughts of lovelessness.  

“Without love, we are birds with broken wings”

-Tuesdays with Morrie

You’re my sanity,

Jeannie145

When two paths diverge

I've been dating a guy on and off for almost 3 years now.  We are great friends, I would actually consider him my best friend since I am come to reach such a level of comfort with him that I can literally do and say anything without feeling all that awkward.  He's a great guy and we communicate well on almost everything but for some reason we just can't seem to get it right when we get into a relationship. 

The past couple months have been a little rough on the both of us and it seemed that a lot of our own little frustrations were weighing down on us individually which in turn took a toll on our relationship.  We finally decided to call it quits a little bit ago and took some time for ourselves to really figure out what we were doing with our lives and with each other.  I must admit that during the past couple of months I had been growing very weary of the relationship and the fights and I had started to question the compatibility of us.  During the break, however, I came to the realization that no matter what I would love him, and that we weren't acting like "us" during these past couple months... We are young adults and these fights are very new to us.  We don't know how to handle them or what we are even doing.  I don't even always know what we're fighting about or if its even worth the frustrations. 

The main thing: I love him and I see now how our own insecurities and frustrations in life were being detrimental to our well being. 

I have now told him how I felt about our relationship, how I feel about him now, how I hope that one day we can make it work and how I have no expectations for right now.  We are going to take space apart, it could be a week, it could be a month... it could even be a year.  I don't know what is going to happen but I think this will be the ultimate test for me to figure out how deep our love really is.  Do we love each other just when we are in the company of one another or can the love survive even when we are not around? 

I've noticed a lot that once people take some space and go about doing their own things the love that they once felt starts to dim.  What kind of love is that?  Love that only exists because of your presence?  I want to know that a love can exist which doesn't die out the minute I don't see you.  I want to know that a love exists which can last through uncertainty, temptations, complications. 

I have a friend who just got back together with someone that she thought she was through with 2 years ago.  It turned out, however, that she loved him this whole time even when she tried to deny it. 

Sometimes we need the space to figure out who we are in our own skin in order to be with anyone.  Sometimes we need the space even when that is the last thing that you want to do.  Sometimes, being alone is the only way to be with someone. 

I'm going to give it a shot and hopefully the universe brings me full circle to him that I love.

Optimism is the name of the game

I was once told that if I wanted something I had to be optimistic about it.  That is all that they ever said.  So of course for every goal that I ever set I remained optimistic.  I would tell myself throughout the day that I was a winner and that I would reach my goals and achieve all the tasks that I had set out for myself.  I would do what I needed (or thought I needed) to do in order to reach my goals and kept a smile on my face the entire time because I was optimistic.

Sometimes I ended up the winner, I ended up exactly where I wanted to be granted it might not have been exactly how I had imagined myself getting there.  The point is that I would be there.  In those moments I was happy, I didn't need to remain optimistic anymore because I had acheived what I had set out to do.  So the advice that I had originally been given, well it worked out and that was good. 

On other occasions, however, I wouldn't get exactly what I was hoping for.  I wouldn't come out on top and it brought me down.  It would put me in a funk and all the steps I had taken to that point seemed pointless.  I would beat myself up for the steps that I had taken, I'd start to regret decisions made, paths followed.  I would tell myself that I could have done everything differently, IF ONLY I had done them differently.

Today, I find myself on the verge of one of those moments.  I find myself at the pinnacle of a goal unachieved and already the thoughts of what if, could have been, should have done are racing through my head.  It is funny that advice given to me can seem so pertinent at the time when it is uttered but can just as easily be forgotten or misapplied when necessary.  That is why I make mistakes-- I forget. 

This time, however, I am reminded of that age old advice and I have a different understanding.  I was depending so much on the exact utterance of what was said to me that I denied myself a deeper reading of those words.  A deeper understanding would have told me from the get go that I was supposed to remain optimistic not just for the things that I wanted but for life in general.  So this time, when my goals aren't reached I'm not going to kick myself for it, I'm not going to run through my past actions and regret them.  I am going to remain optimistic about the result, remain in high spirits for what is still yet to come and be happy that I have gained yet another experience.

The illusion is that you can't win them all but even perceived failures are winnings under cover. 

Picking myself up every step of the way,
Jeannie