picking up the pieces

Have you ever been afraid of the night? Not the dark, but the night. Have you ever looked outside, at the sun fading and the air growing crisp, and felt sick? Your hands feel clammy, your stomach knotted and twisted into a maze and an awful sinking feeling taking over. And then a few moments later, it's gone, forgotten. And when you ask yourself why it even happened, your mind draws a blank. You can't think of one reason why you wouldn't want it to be night. After all, night has always been your favorite, right? Night is when all the best things happen, and the worst. Your best memories and your worst regrets all happened with the sun gone and the moon glowing. I suppose in a way, the sun and moon are like your conscience. During the day, the sun shines bright, reminding you of who you should be and at night, the moon is merely glowing. A brief, almost dull reminder of what you are to become. And at the same time, leaving this huge darkness for you to figure it out yourself or to hide in the shadows. You can forget who you are, you can become uninhibited with the lights off. You can hide from the moon and take shelter in the darkness, escaping into the darker side of yourself. Or you can seek out the moon and follow the stars, finding your inner colors without it being told to you by the truthful brightness of the sun. It's not real life in a way. It's like you're given this blank coloring page. And you can fill it with whatever colors you like, you can even choose whether or not to stay in the lines because no one can see it. The darkness hides your flaws and even your beauty. So the question is, how do you color yourself in when you know no one will be there to see it?

I thought I knew you for a minute

I think we're all at our most sensible when we first wake up. We've had the whole night to dream and think and sort things out in our heads while our bodies rest, uninvolved. We don't have to think about thinking about anything. Our brains have time to digest all the days activities and sort through the complicated problems we can't handle while we're awake. And I think we're at our least sensible at night, I think we're at our deepest stage. You know when you stay up really late and you feel almost drunk. I think its called "punch drunk" maybe. I don't know. But we just say anything that comes to our mind. I can usually write my best at night because I'm not thinking about how dumb I might sound.
Anyway, it's almost eight in the morning and I just woke up with all these new thoughts and feelings and resolutions to my problems that I don't remember thinking last night. I woke up kind of suddenly and I felt almost free. I remembered conversations I had last night, some pointless but most were meaningful. And I realized that everything I was hearing was true. I mean, of course it's true, but I guess I just wasn't ready to accept it. But it really is. And I've been holding onto something that was never really there. I mean, sure you put in the time and effort and planning, you made the promises, but you never ran the race. And I've been running the race the whole time, by myself, and not with you. I made you up in my head. I really did. I made up this unrealistically perfect guy that understood me and truly, unselfishly cared. I convinced myself that you were this perfect guy because it was easier. It was easier to ignore problems and other people by escaping into this obsession with you. Yet it was never you, it was the you that I made up. The real you isn't even half that guy. The real you doesn't care at all and never did and I wish I could've seen it before.
But I fell for your poetic words and adoring looks, your "game", and I became exactly what I hate. I became one of those girls thats blindly in love with a game-playing, stupid, hormone driven boy who thinks he knows exactly how to handle her. And I guess it was good in a way, because I'll never fall for that again. Or at least I'll try because it's not worth it. When I looked at you, I thought I saw something. I thought I saw something more, something deep, something understanding, something perfect. But it was never really there. It was just a figment of my imagination. And I guess thats all we ever were. So the only thing I'm holding onto is myself, almost like my imaginary childhood friend. I'm holding on to you because you're comforting, you're routine. And it's hard to just let something like that go. But it will come eventually, just like I got rid of my imaginary friend, I'll get rid of you. One morning I'll wake up, and you won't be there.

"It's like the smell of burnt toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's on the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the tops of your hands. And in the morning, it's still there."

cause i honestly believed in you

It's kinda like you know those days where you get everything right? When you take your time doing your hair and your makeup and everything looks perfect? It's really a great feeling. But what about when you get it wrong? When you mess up your makeup or your hair or whatever and you don't look the way you want? And no matter what you do, it still isn't the way you want it? But it's just one day. Just one bad day. And you can get through that one day looking not quite good enough because you can fix it by making up for it tomorrow. Because tomorrow you get a fresh start, a clean slate. You can wash off that makeup and redo your hair and and get an extra hour of sleep. And everything is fine again, and you'll have other bad days like that but its fine because you know they can't all be like that. But what if they could? What if everyday sucked? What if everyday you woke up and realized that no matter how much sleep or how much makeup or how much hairspray you use, it still can't be fixed, can't be good?
I wish I could wake up tomorrow with a clean slate. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and not feel like this. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and not even remember who you are. And I wish I could wash it all away. But I can't, because I could stand under a steaming hot shower, and I could get rid of all my makeup and all the hairspray from the day before, but I can't get rid of you. No matter what I do, that imperfection is still there. I can't fix it, can't wash it off. And it sucks, it really sucks. And I don't know how to fix it, because I've tried everything and the only things I believed in, don't make sense anymore. And it all happened so fast that I don't even know what happened, much less how. I want to go back, more than anything else, but I can't, and I know I can't. And god, it sucks. It's the worst thing in the world. And I wish someone would tell me what to do, but then again I don't because I wouldn't listen anyway. And I want to scream, but I won't. And I want to cry, but I won't. And I want to just melt into the ground, but I can't. And I want it to go away, but it won't, and it can't. But more than anything, I want you. And it wasn't supposed to be like this, what happened to all those promises?

you are the face of a faith I love

How can I make them understand when I don't even understand, myself? And how can I make them listen when their minds are already made up? How can I accept the change if I can't let it go? How am I supposed to surrender when my feelings won't retreat? Am I just supposed to bottle everything up and keep it locked away? What if I don't want to? What happens when the only thing to do is the only thing you can't do?

I know it won't go away, it can't. It's more than just a feeling, more than just a decision. I don't how to turn it off, I wouldn't even know where to begin. Because I've found something in you that I need, I've found me. I've found the person I want to be, need to be and I can't just let that go. And even more than that, I've found you and I found what we could be. So what now? Where do I turn when every direction leads nowhere? Who am I supposed to be, when everything I thought I was, is gone? And how do I know where to go when the light at the end of the tunnel is shut off? And why would I even want to keep walking through the tunnel when the things at the end that I once yearned for, have lost their meaning? Can't I just stay here, lost in the middle?

You offered an escape. An alternative to the sickening routine of everyone else, of the chase. I've let myself become this new person, this better person and now what? I've realized how tiring and pointless everyone else and everything else is, how my entire life has been centered around something that lacks a deeper meaning. And I don't want to take another step, another breath without you. Cliche as that is, it's true. It's like you're this big, warm blanket sheltering me from the harsh cold of reality and now I'm being stripped of it, and I have no idea how to weather the cold. And I'll probably survive, but at what cost and with how much frostbite? How much of the person I once was, will be gone? Who will the girl be that comes out of it, and will the person I am now adjust to her and what shes done to still be here?

it never would have gone away

you're not sorry by taylor swift

All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around
I’ve been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down
And its taking me this long but baby I figured you out
And you think it will be fine again but not this time around

You don’t have to call anymore
I won’t pick up the phone
This is the last straw
Don’t want to hurt anymore
And you can tell me that you’re sorry
But I won’t believe you baby like I did before
You’re not sorry no more, no

Looking so innocent
I might believe you if I didn’t know
Could have loved you all my life
If you hadn’t left me waiting in the cold
And you got your share of secrets
And I’m tired of being last to know
And now you’re asking me to listen
Cause its worked each time before

But you don’t have to call anymore
I won’t pick up the phone
This is the last straw
Don’t want to hurt anymore
And you can tell me that you’re sorry
But I don’t believe you baby like I did before
You’re not sorry no

You had me calling for you honey
And it never would’ve gone away no
You use to shine so bright
But I watched our love, it fade

So you don’t have to call anymore
I won’t pick up the phone
This is the last straw
There’s nothing left to beg for
And you can tell me that you’re sorry
But I won’t believe you baby like I did before

There's really nothing I could say that could make more sense than this.

someone like you

I feel like its gone. Everything we used to be, everything we are now. The connection broken. The strings pulling on my heart, now suddenly strained and wearing thin. I can't explain it, couldn't describe it if you asked, I can just feel it. There is something missing. Something I thought was always there, but really never was. I used to see your halo and now the light has burnt out, flickering on every once in a while when I change the light bulb. I don't know what happened. Something changed. It wasn't you, it wasn't me, it was someone else, a different me. With each new phase of life, I become a new girl, better than the last. And she sees it, us, in a different light. Your once meaningful and adoring words, have now become just words. Words likely muttered to some other girl, some other time. Sweet nothings. It all seems very rehearsed. You don't feel real. The once invisible marionette strings on your limp limbs and mouth, now bold and visible. Your secret discovered. And I can't believe I couldn't see it before.

time is going to take my mind and carry it far away, where i can fly

So I'm reading this book, for the second time. I read it about a month or so ago and now I'm reading it again. The second time is always the best because although you already know the ending, you can really take it slow, page by page, paragraph by paragraph, sentence by sentence, word by word. You can appreciate the long descriptions in the middle of the suspense because you aren't desperate to figure out the ending. This book is by far the best I have ever read. Every single word is perfectly placed and thought out. It's probably the deepest book I've read. I admire the reader more than I could express.
However, this is her first novel. Which may mean that her next could only be that much better, but what if its not? I have always kind of wanted to write a book, or just write in general, and I could only hope that if I do, it is half as good as this. But as I read about her on the back inside cover, it seemed to me that her life was a bit like the book. Which is probably why its so good. But it also makes me wonder, what if we only have one story? What if, when we write about something thats real to us, it's only a one time deal? I'm always afraid that I will put my everything into this one amazing book, and then that will be it. I won't have anything left to say, anything left to think, to feel. And then what? Maybe thats why there is only a handful of really deep, really thought-provoking books.

you are my everything, even with nothing to say

Love. Butterflies. Lust. I don't know what exactly it's called, it's almost more than words. But he looked at me. And it wasn't just a look with his eyes, but a look with his soul. As if he could see right through the surface into my depth. And then he kissed me. And it wasn't just a kiss with his lips, but a kiss with his whole heart. As if I was the only person he'd ever want to kiss. And it felt amazing and it felt right. He felt right. Not in the way that a pair of jeans feels right but in the way that when your mom hugs you, it feels right. And my stomach fluttered and my fingertips tingled and goosebumps popped up on my arms and legs kinda like when someone blows air on the back of your neck, yet it was totally different. Different from anything I'd ever felt before. And I didn't want to scream or cry or jump or laugh, I just wanted to look at him. And it wasn't cliche or cheesy or corny, it just was and I can't explain how great that felt.

Is it worth the struggle?

A highly discussed topic at my church recently has been the sermons. And not for good reasons. Our pastor seems like he's "losing his mind" and getting too old er whatever. His sermons aren't good. He stutters and mumbles and talks in circles. No one really comes out and says it, but they're pretty dang bad. People have stopped coming because they aren't getting anything out of it, and I agree. I don't see why I should get out of bed at 7 to go to a church service I'm not gonna learn anything from, other than town gossip. And trust me, I'm not one of those people who goes to church and pretends to participate and zones out during the sermon. I really actually enjoy listening to the sermons and whatnot, so when they started to go downhill, I just made more of an effort. I would even write down the one or two points he was trying to make, but it didn't add up. Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed.
However, this morning was different. The sermon had a good title, as it usually does, but this one caught my attention. It was called "worth the struggle". While he did some of his usual things, like making the same point five hundred times and forgetting what he was saying, it was decent. I could follow if I tried pretty hard. He repeated something about how all of us there were "the faithful" because we came every Sunday and everything. He also repeated an analogy about how easy it was to walk through those doors on Sunday morning and how hard it was to walk out "walking the talk, walking the walk". I'd never really thought about that before and it was a great thing to consider. I sat there for the rest of the service and the ride home and the rest of today really, thinking about that.
What I got out of it was that its extremely easy to be "faithful". I mean, it requires some amount of effort, getting out of bed isn't always easy, but its not that big of deal. And I think most people do it because they want to claim to be Christians. They want the title and the reputation that comes along with it. They want to think that they're going to Heaven someday, which they might, but I doubt its just because they come to church once a week and be "godly". Because, when they walk out those double doors an hour or so later, what are they thinking about?
Likely its not God. Likely its the plans for the day, making a grocery list in their heads, etc, which is perfectly normal, I'm not saying thats bad. Its just human nature. But what I think he was struggling to say though was that its easy to walk into church once a week and participate in church activities, but in the long run what does that really mean? We go out into the world every week after church and lead our lives. But where does God fit into our lives? How many times a week do you do something "Godly"? How much of a factor is He in your decision making? Where exactly is God in our lives? Some people may argue that they are too busy to think about God. Or that he's never present in their daily lives.
But heres the thing, God is EVERYWHERE. You can feel his love everywhere, all the time. He's the feeling you get when you look lovingly into your significant others eyes. He's the hug between a father and son. He's the cute little thing your dog did this morning. He's the "on-top-of-the-world" feeling you get when things are going great. He's all the blessings we have, the people and things in our lives we like the best. And most importantly, he's each of us. He's the thing we're good at, and we're all good at something, whether we admit or not. He gave us each a special talent, and by not doing it and using it for good, we're being ungrateful. And when we aren't "walking the talk, walking the walk" we are letting him down and letting our lives go to waste. I strongly believe he has a plan for all of us and we just need to go with it and let him take over. Because when you really sit down and think about it, optimistically and without judgment or anger anyway, we can really see all the good things he does for us, and what great things we can and should be eternally grateful for.