drown in a pool of you

The warm wind reminds me of you, and I long for it.
It screetches, screams at the crack in the window, begging to be let in.
I wonder why, I wonder what's so great about being in?
Why come in and be trapped when already you are free, warming the world?
I suppose you just want to fill it, warm it. You see how cold and empty it is, and you wish to fix it.
It's beautiful the way you do it.
With big warm gusts, you shake the world. Yet, it's not shook up.
You're gentle even at your mightiest, your warmth warming us all.
The trees move, the grass. Flowers sway, the waves cap. Amazing.
I long for it. I long to be surrounded, hidden, engulfed.
I long to be part of everything. Swaying with everything. Feeling with everything.
I ache with not knowing you, with not feeling you.
Our reunion, though fast approaching, is still too far out of reach.
All this time, all these other sides of you.
It's been so long, too long.
Time for us.
Almost.

By the Way

Everything is perfect, everything is fine. I'm doing good, we're doing good. And then I talk to you, just talk to you. 15 minutes, maybe. And you bring me back to life, back to reality. I don't have to say one thing. Nothing. Because you already know it all. My thoughts, my doubts, insecurities, the truth. You know. How do you do that? How can you read me like that? When everyone else doesn't see, can't tell, you can. How? How can you, with one single question, uncover all my secrets? At least I thought they were secrets. But not with you. You know me better than I know myself yet when I talk to you, it's not like talking to a mirror. We're so much alike it's scary yet it never gets boring. If soul mates were real. If, before we were born, our souls were once one with someone else's'. I know mine would be you. I can feel it when we're together and I know it has to be you. There's this connection, I couldn't begin to describe. You get me like no one else does. You know the reasons behind everything I do. And visa versa. And you aren't threatened by it. You don't try to get the upper hand and you don't try to compete, you just accept it. And it sucks because now I'm here and you're there and that's how we have to stay.
"I thought God was supposed to have a plan. Is this really a part of it?"
"We choose our own paths."
Do you need any more proof?

...

Maybe I'm overreacting, just looking for a way out. Maybe I'm imagining all of this, over analyzing everything until it becomes what I think it should be. Maybe the pangs of jealousy I get when anyone else even comes near him are just a way of proving that you don't mean anything. And maybe the urges I have to be with him and the theories I come up with about us are just me trying to find a way out. Because whenever I get in something, I'm always looking for a way out. A reason why it won't work. And with you I ignored that, I pushed for it. And I got it. But now that I have you, do I really have you? I feel like I'm still trying. It's like this endless fight where I keep trying and you stay apathetic. And the more I try, the more I end up pulling away and I feel like I don't even know you anymore. I don't even think I ever did. I don't understand how you can feel perfectly fine and think nothing when I'm thinking everything. I just feel like I gave you this huge thing and you just took it for granted. And it should have made me feel closer to you but instead I feel so much farther away. And I just want to get away from it, from you. To pretend I never met you. Because I can't handle all of this and I can't take it back. But could I really just walk away?

O.

It's all over. Done. Gone. Can't get it back. I was in such a hurry. I wanted so much to have that, to become that person. I wanted to prove to you, and I guess to myself, that I could have that. So I pushed and pushed and pushed it. And it worked. I got exactly what I wanted. But did I really want it? It's crazy how fast it can be over. Over the course of maybe a minute, everything I thought I was, disappeared. I changed. But I didn't, not really. I kept waiting for it. I kept waiting for my whole world to shift. But it didn't. And I realized that my whole life isn't going to alter just because of this one thing, this one decision. I always used to be intrigued by it. As if it put you on a different level, changed you, altered you. And I was scared of changing. But nothing changed. And I know that if I told you that, you'd have a different opinion. But you don't know, you can't tell. If I never tell you, you'll never know. No one will. And that's exactly how it should be.

Is it obvious?

I'm disappointed, let down. Most of all, I'm sorry. Was this part of the plan? I don't understand, yet I finally do. It's been so long, too long. Where was I? For once, not asleep. I look back, and it's not hazy. It's real. But it's not me. Fun? Yes. So then, what's the problem? Is there a problem?
It happened. There's no getting around it. I can't deny it. And yet, I don't feel the need to. Maybe I'm just too far gone. Maybe I can't get it back. Maybe I'll never get back to that point where I'll care. But is caring necessary? Or was that all just like the winter, long and harsh and contained?
Can't you just take me to back to that place where you were, where I still am?
I don't even know this. Any of it. It's not even vaguely familiar. I miss the words and the voices and the thoughts. I miss laying in bed with nothing to do and being satisfied. I miss staring off into space and being lost inside. I miss the stories inside my head that, once started, never stop.
Yet I could never give this up. It's more than just you. It's all of them, it's us. It's actually laughing. It's not coming home and being locked up. It's not containment. It's freedom. But is it too much?
Can't I just find where it all collides?

the truth is...

It all happened so fast. So incredibly fast. It was like I was watching it all happen, helpless to do anything, to stop anything. And I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have said anything. And then what? Then where would we be?
Still here?

I don't get it. What'd I do?

Maybe you're scared, afraid, something. But I'm not trying to lock you up and throw away the key.
I promise.
I saw what happened to them, and I won't let that happen.
I promise.

And if it truly is too early to tell, then how come it's not too early for that?
That's a huge deal. At least it is to me.
Maybe that to you is like this to me.
Maybe we really aren't on the same page, despite what you always say.

I just think that when you know, you know. And I know.
Do you?
You say you do.
So then why is this so hard?

I am ready, I am fine

I thought about you last night.
Lying there in the dark, almost asleep.
Almost asleep in that bed. Their bed. The one I imagine you've laid in, lifetimes ago.
That song came on, and it dawned on me that I could've seen you yesterday.
I'd been looking forward to it, imagined what it'd be like.
How I'd do my hair, what I would wear, how I'd act.
But I never went.
I did everything to avoid it.
I didn't do it purposely. Or at least not consciously.
It just wasn't on my mind at all.
I had all that alone time to think yet none of my thoughts were you.
And now it'll be another year before I see you. Or at least a few months.
And maybe that's for the best.
This thing, whatever it is, is wrong. Really wrong.
And hopefully by next year, I won't even remember, or at least remember to forget.
Or maybe I'll just look back on it and it'll be fuzzy.
Just one of those stupid things you did when you were young. (Literally)
But if I had seen you, then who knows.
Who knows if I still would just be able to think about you, instead of feeling you.
Who knows.
I guess you really do just have to trust that whatever happens is what was always meant to be.

1.Soulmate :)

I can't do it again. Won't.
Don't pull away again. Don't disappear.
Tell me it won't change things.
Tell me we can still stay this close.
Tell me, promise.
Because when I'm with you, everything seems like NBD [;)]
Because you're me, I'm you. We're one.
Everything I think, you think.
Everything I'm about to say, you say.
It just works. We're just meant to be.
And I can't go back to that half-assed shit.
I can't be the only one trying. And trust me, we both know that's where this is headed.
So don't do it. Just don't.
Don't fall into that exclusive little world where you lose your deep side and I lose my best friend.
Just don't.
Because I really don't think I can.
Those were the worst seven months of my life.
Maybe my world didn't fall apart, maybe horrible, unbearable things didn't happen.
But I did lose you. And how do you expect me to deal with things when that happens?
How can I feel OK when half my body is missing?
So please, just don't.
Let's just keep this this way.
I love you too much to let it just go away.

In the waiting line

We're always waiting. For everything, we wait. How many times a day do you wait for something? I wait for my alarm to sound a second time and for my parents to "really be serious this time" about me waking up, and I wait for my ride and for each class to be over and for him to text me after practice and who knows what else. And then there's the other kind of waiting. The long term waiting. We wait for our diets to start working and for us to lose weight, and we wait for the guy of our dreams to come along or for him to come to his senses and want us back. And usually the line for these things is endless. But even on the off chance that we do actually get those things, we wait for the bottom to fall out. So why? It's like we're waiting to be happy. But why? I've heard endless times "Good things come to those who wait." And that seems so stupid. What if I don't want to wait? What if I just want to be happy now? Does that work? Can we ever just get out of line?

Beep

I hate it. Everything about it sucks. Yeah it hurts, but is it worth this? It makes me want to throw up. It makes me want to cry. I can't decide which I'll do first. I just want to go home. I hate it so much. I hate the plastic lavendar curtain. It's stupid, why is it lavendar? I suppose light purple is supposed to be soothing, and maybe under different circmstances, it would be. But it's not. Take it down. And it's so bright, the flourescent lights are annoying. Turn them off. I hate this. I hate how clean everything is. I didn't even know clean had a smell till I came here. Which reminds me, why did I come here again? It's not worth this. At all. And more than anything, I hate the IV. The thin skin on the top of my hand hates it more. It makes me cold. My whole arm is freezing. I put the blanket over it but it's just as cold. It's supposed to make me feel better but it only makes everything worse. I start to cry then feel stupid. The guy next to me just had a heart attack and I'm crying over an IV. Really? I'm worthless. I've layed here and watched the clock go from ten thirty, to midnight, to one thirty to two thirty. I want to go home, go to sleep. She made me take out my belly button ring. I can't find it, doubt I'd be able to get my fingers to twist it back in anyway. Oh well. Belly button rings are stupid when your stomach looks like mine. I start to fall asleep waiting for her to come back. All their voices, snoring, laughter, cries, they all sound like my friends. I feel like I'm with them, I just was. So how did I end up here? I can hear them talking about me. About how I can't pee. About how I need more fluid. Except it's not really me. They keep calling me 4. I've never really liked that number. I fall back asleep. Soon enough I'll get to go home, right?

too good?

Too good to be true. Does that really exist? Or is it just an expression created to ruin happiness? I'm always waiting for the bad things to come. When things suck, I feel okay, it feels normal, I'm not always waiting for the bottom to fall out. I don't know how to just be happy. It's so weird to think that people can actually be in love and have everything work out, it's weird to think people are actually happy. I just don't know if I can believe in that. It doesn't seem real. It seems too good to be true. But it's not, is it? I mean, there are people in lasting, loving relationships right? Or is it all just a front? I just have to look at my parents to know that that isn't true but I just consider them one of those rare, lucky couples. Because most of my friends parents are either divorced or not happy and none of my friends have been able to keep together a relationship, and I can't help but wonder why. Why can't people just stay together? Are they too passionate? Too sensible? Always looking for more? Which? All? Any? I'm willing to bet it's a balance between all of that, but where is that midpoint? And how do you get there? It's not like you can just ask someone how they do it? It's undefinable. Maybe we don't have a soul mate. Maybe we just settle for what we have and somehow make it work.

Easy

I'm scared. Whether or not I should be, I don't know. You were easy. Well no, not exactly. It certainly never felt easy. You were just you. I was used to it. I've only ever been attached to you. Attached to your smell, your eyes, your legs, your mouth, teeth and your voice, every little thing you said was, and still is, stored somewhere in the back of my mind. It always will be. And no matter what I do, it won't go away. I could erase all my saved messages from you, take that picture off my wall, delete your number, avoid all those places. I could be done completely, but it's never going to go away. Whenever I see you, there will always be that feeling. I honestly think that in fifty years, if I see you, whatever you look like, I'll still love you. And I'm scared. I'm scared to let someone else have that. I don't want it to go downhill. I won't get attached, but I need to. I need to let go of you but in order to do that, I need to feel safe in the next thing. I need to know that they won't all end like this, before I'm ready. That they won't all end. But could I ever be safe with anyone else? Was I safe with you? I just don't know. How can we ever know? Does it matter? All I know is that I'm scared. And a big part of me still really loves you. Does that make me a horrible person?

shutupshutupshutup

Falling in and out, can't quite let it go. Can't quite drown out the flashing lights and the unsteady sounds from the movie or the hand on your leg and the whisper in your ear. It all feels wrong. Did you ever really want this? Sometimes I forget. Sometimes when you aren't close, I forget why it's you. I think I can be with whoever, do whatever and the thing is, I can't. It all feels wrong. But I remember now and every single part of me feels it. My head pounds, my ears itch. My stomach churns, I want to throw up. Too close, I need space. I want to scream, tell him to get away, but I can't. I can't move. This is a place I've always felt safe in, it's almost like home. But I don't feel safe. I just want to get away. But if I move, I won't be a part of this thing we've just found and if I stay, it will ruin everything else. I want to go home. Why did we decide to stay? Stupid, stupid, stupid. That seems to be the theme for this night. I just want to fast forward through all of this. I want to fall asleep and forget it all. Feigning sleep feels like the only option. It works, sort of. He backs off, I can't see the screen anymore but I can still hear everything. The breathing, heavy and light, and the voices, whispers and yelling, and the phones, fast keys and loud tones. Shut it off. I wish you could close your ears like your eyes. And then she says something, repeatedly. And it works. He leaves and its just me and her. And I finally feel OK.

Did I make it that easy?

I'm the last one. Who would've thought? Circled around a bowl of popcorn, snuggled up in our sleeping bags, our ten year old selves predicted this very thing. It was unanimously decided that I would be the first. And while I certainly should have been, after all I was the first to do all that other stuff, I wasn't. I almost can't believe it while at the same time it feels like a given. When they all first told me, I was shocked and a little jealous. I got anxious and felt left out. And I thought back to that moment when I was about to be the first, and I wanted to redo it all and give it up.

They kept saying things like it's not a big deal, it was bound to happen, you think it's bad until it happens and whatever. But it is a big deal. How could it not be? And it's not something to just hastily do. I'm not judging them or anything because I've been in the same situation and I know, and I also realize they're just saying all that because it helps but that doesn't mean I should feed into it. I don't need to do it just to feel "in" and so we can all take this next step together. And the more I think about it, I think I want to because I'm scared. I'm scared of ending up like that. I don't want to just be able to say I have or because I feel like it's the next step or because it's expected. I want to because I want to, and because I'm crazy about him. So I guess it's fine that I'm the last. I feel left out and little but it's still amazing because I still get to choose. I get to. And I can learn from all of their experiences or I can just do the same. In any case, I know that no matter what I choose, they'll be there when it does happen (or soon after).

There's bits of it on the floor

Let's just go back. Take it all back. All those words and all this time. Please? Let's just go back to that moment when we were right there. So close, basically there, but not quite. Why stop? Why hesitate? Does it even matter? Would it have even made a difference? Or would we still be here? Everything happens for a reason. Does it? I don't know anymore. All these things I used to trust don't make sense. How did we get here? Were we ever there? Were we ever anywhere? I don't even know you. So how come you're so familiar? I always thought it would be you, I always wanted it to be. Why can't it be? Tell me it still can. Tell me anything. I need that. Need you. Because I can't. I can't look back at this and not remember you. I can't. And I can't not be with you again. I can't. I can't wake up in thirty years and realize I never got to kiss you or hold your hand or feel you again. I can't. Do I really have to? Why? Why can't I even talk to you? Why can't I just call you? I want to hear your voice. I don't want him or any of them. He loves me, he actually gives a shit. But I can't. I can't kiss him and not think you. I can't say yes without somehow saying no to you. I've held on this long. Why should I let go now? Really. How could this be over? How could it not have led anywhere? What happened to all those "someday"s?

as we wake up your room

Laying in my bed last night, sitting in the car and then watching that movie, we were all depressed. We listened to sad songs and talked in quiet voices and sighed heavily and even cried at times. And i thought back to last year at this time. She was dating that one guy, he was dating that one girl and I wasn't dating anyone and we all felt like we had no lives. We always said it'd be better once we got our licenses and cars and everything. And now we do, and this is what we're like. And I realized how stupid it all is. Although we're all depressed for legitimate reasons, at least we have things going on now. We're finally somewhat independent. Now we can get in car accidents and stay at hotels without our parents and we can become smokers and fall in love and get fucked over and it all sucks yet it's great. We're living. We're actually living. I finally feel like something is happening to me and not just to everyone else. I finally feel something. It may not be exactly what I want to be feeling but it's something. And I could scream it's so great. Crying and laughing and driving and running and dancing and saying the dumbest thing you possibly could. It's all great. Things may not have turned out exactly like I'd wanted but when does anyone ever get it all? At least I have something.

all the above

There are all these songs that remind me of you. Of this whole thing. I never want to hear them again but I can't stop listening to them. They play in my head even when they aren't on. I just keep thinking back to it. How could I be so stupid? Has it really taken me this long to figure it all out? I always prided myself on the fact that I wasn't one of those dumb girls and now I realize that you've made me exactly that. I just want to pretend that it all never happened. I want to go back and do it all over and leave you out completely. I wish I'd never met you, never heard your voice. You seemed perfect and unattainable and all I wanted was to be with you and I'd have done anything to get there. And really? How stupid is that? What's so great about you? All my friends can see right through you and now so can I. It may have taken me a whole year but I can. And I realize now that I can do better. I don't need you. I don't need someone to tell me all these amazing things because it's all bullshit. I thought you were so mature and different from everyone else, but really you're generic and I realize now that you're never going to grow up and be someone I should be with. And as much as I would like to go back and undo all that and save myself this embarrassment, I'm glad it happened. I really am. I'm glad because I'll never fall for it again. And I don't care if all of this is cheese and corn because sometimes it's just necessary.

Pop.

Everything is moving slow. Like the opposite of fast forward if this was a movie. It's not though, is it? I'm tired, so extremely tired and she's yelling, pleading, threatening with me, at me to get up. I can't tune her out, she's too loud. I want to fall back asleep, but her voice is insistent. I look at the clock. 7:09. I've had two hours of sleep. I'm not as tired as I should be but how is it already seven? The last thing I remember was asking if it bothered him. And now I'm in my own bed and she's yelling at me. I get up and the whole room spins. I feel low, beyond tired, beyond everything. The bright lights of the bathroom make me nauseous, the shower feels like needles. I want to sleep, I want to throw up. Why is it already seven? I'm getting in the car, 7:45, it's freezing. My eyes water, I forgot my medication. Awesome. Could this morning be any better? We pull up and walk in, it's still freezing and I still want to throw up. Everyones in their nice church clothes and they're all shaking hands and being nice and fake and it's extremely funny but I don't know why. We sit in the back, I immediately slump over and fall almost asleep. Everyone's looking at me funny, I don't know why. Weird, creepy, middle-aged church guy comes over. He stands over me, I'm overcome by his gross sour smell. He inquires about my well-being, his hand dangerously close to my knee. I mumble something, trying to keep down the vomit threatening to cover his shoes. I figure he'll leave now that I've answered, but he doesn't. He's just standing there over me and I feel like I'm standing in the shadow of a huge 6 million foot tall old smelly cheese factory. Yuck. I scoot away from him before his hand creeps up my leg. Ew. He walks away. I just want to go home and sleep for five years. It's 8:10 and then 8:30. The sermon starts..."we get lost in the wilderness over the course of the year.." I'm so so so tired. "lent wakes us up..." I wish it would wake me up. "it takes a lot of energy and time and faith to get unlost sometimes." Sounds like a good sermon for once, I wish I could focus better. Shes standing up there singing, her head tipped up, looking down on me, like always. When I don't go up for Communion, she flashes me a quick harsh, threatening look before putting on her "church face" and smiling sympathetically at me. I'm the only one still in the pews, everyone else is getting Communion. They all give me that same sympathetic, somehow disapproving look. Yeah poor me, I haven't found God, I don't know blahblahblah whatever. I just want to go to sleep. And then it's finally over and we leave. It's 9:10 and still freezing. I just want to sleep. We walk in the door, I go in my room and collapse into heaven.

my best friend

Kyle.
Curled up on the couch in a dark room watching some super low-budget indie film, I feel like the only person still alive. Everything is still, I haven't heard a sound or seen anything outside of this movie for what feels like forever. I can't remember who I am nor can I focus on where I am. I look over, expecting to see him slumped over in his chair fast asleep. But he's not. He's wide awake and as, if not more, engrossed in the weird movie as I am. I smile, because of course he's not sleeping, why would he be? And when the movie's over and the credits tumble down the screen, neither of us says anything. We're just staring off into nothingness, ingesting that new sort of feeling after a good movie. When we finally look at each other, we both burst out laughing, because this movie that probably cost one fiftieth of what Hollywood movies cost to make has made us feel different, has made us feel new, has left us questioning. And then we talk about it, about what it means, how we feel, what the point is. And I love him. I really do, because he's the only person who I can be like this with and who is like this with me.
We've known each other forever. Since we were five and he was the weird, fat kid that lived down the street and I was the "playground slut" with no girl friends. We never really talked though. We always had different groups of friends. And then, the summer after seventh grade, we started "going out" at Kate's end of the year luau. I remember we were laying by the fire, looking up at the stars and he said something about weird they were and I remember feeling the exact same way. After a while we broke up and just sort of became friends. I don't remember the exact moment, I just remember that I felt like we'd always been like this, or were supposed to be. And through all the bullshit since then, we've somehow only gotten closer and closer.
I think he's my soul mate, if such a thing exists. He knows me so well, because he is me. When we talk, it's like he's saying all the thoughts that I haven't been able to put into words. And we can talk about anything. That's a cliche, but whatever. In our case, we actually can. Religion and dreams are some of our most frequented topics, but we can still talk about the dumb stuff like our other friends, our boyfriends/girlfriends, etc. He's just so smart and deep, he gets me like I can't get myself, if that makes sense.
And he's the only guy that I don't feel the need to be something for. I can just be whatever. He's seen me at my worst and my best, with and without makeup, in dirty sweats and in practically nothing, and it doesn't make a difference. I don't feel different around him when I'm not made up, because that's not what it's about with him. I don't need to look good, he already knows what I look like.
We're with each other all the time, but even when we're not things aren't weird. There are weeks when he'll come over every night to do "math" (which usually ends up being me copying his and us watching one of my dad's movies) and then there will be weeks when we won't even talk, but it doesn't make a difference. He's like reading your favorite book or watching your favorite movie, it doesn't matter how long it's been since you've last seen it or read it, it's still gonna be as good as you remember it, if not better. And when we are together, it's amazing yet nothing special. But in a good way like when you go to your favorite class, you go all the time but it's still your favorite, still good.
And he'll always be like that. Familiar and amazing. My worst fear is that we'll go different ways after high school and never see each other again. We've made plans to get married, make up our own religion, have ten kids and force them to be extremely smart and read all our favorite books. But who knows what will happen. And for right now, that's okay.

Shh.

One of the absolute worst things in the entire world that you could ever see, I've been lucky enough to see three times. Once when I was eleven, and twice in the last four months. It's something so extremely horrible, you can never quite recover. It's your parents...doing it. Like the it it thing. The thing that's almost okay for you to do, but not for your parents. It's the reason we're all here, but God, it's nasty. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and die. If you've never seen it, consider yourself truly, truly blessed. And if you have.....you have my sympathy, but not really because you probably haven't had to see it three fricken times, which I still can't believe that I've had to.
The first time wasn't so bad, well as not-so-bad as seeing your parents having sex can be. But I was only eleven and I guess I had never even considered it. I always thought that parents stopped doing that after they had babies and I must be wrong about what I saw. Anyway, I told my sister and we both agreed to not ever speak to them again. After a while we kind of forgot about it but I can still picture it perfectly and uh...yuck. Then, like four months ago, it happened again. Like wow, lock the door please. Or just don't do that at all cause it's extremely disgusting. But yep, I walked in to tell them I was home because they always make me check in when I get home and surprise surprise...guess who's on top of who. And then again. It was my dog's birthday and I had an alarm set for midnight to get up and wish him happy birthday (yes, I realize how dumb this sounds). But anyway, I walk in and ah, parents. naked.yuckyuckcyuckcyuckyuck. I could seriously kill myself, it's that gross. That is the absolute worst thing I have ever had to endure in my fifteen years and probably will remain number one for the rest of my life, except for maybe natural childbirth (which I never plan to do and anyway I'll get something out of that I guess and this, well this is just sick) or if I walk in on them when they're like eighty or something. That would just be super cool.
In any case, what I have learned from all of this (besides that my parents still do it) is that walking into your parents bedroom, is never okay. No matter what. Even if it's the middle of a Sunday and you can hear them talking about taxes. And if you absolutely have to, stomp your feet on the way to the door, whistle or hum or sing as loudly as possible, then knock, really really loudly numerous times to make sure they've heard you, wait 2-7 minutes, depending on how long it takes your parents to get decent, before opening the door, then proceed with caution. Because really, it's something you could definitely go your entire life without ever seeing.

when your wheels stop turning

You're really something. I hate that expression, I do. Yet it's perfect because all the words I could try to use to describe you aren't good enough. All the usual words, beautiful or perfect or stunning, they've all been used by so many, too many, other people to describe multitudes of other people and I want a word that is only from me about you. But I can't make up a word, can I? And what kind of word could possibly suffice? How could I put into one single word everything about you that I love? How could I think up a word to describe how your eyes change in the sun? Or how you shove your hands in your pocket and give me that close-lipped smile when I'm ranting on and on about something? Or how much I wish I was that filthy stick of nicotine that is forever contentedly burning between your fingers? Or how you can still see me when I'm fading into the background? Or how I can talk to you about anything and everything and you talk back no matter what? How could I say that? How do you describe someone you love when the word love can't even begin to cover it? How can I put into a single word how you make me feel like what I have to say matters even when I feel like everything has already been said? How can I?

Stiff

This guy I know is getting married. He's a bit "out there" and I guess I don't quite understand him or know him well. Anyway, his bride-to-be is his exact opposite. He's fat, she's TV thin. He's intelligent and extremely arrogant and loud about it, she's very quiet and meager. And I just don't get it. I don't understand why she would want to be with him. I know that it's obviously something beyond looks, which is good, but I just don't understand.
The way she stood quietly behind him as he gloated and gloated about something in that voice that only people who call themselves "intelligent" talk, it just made me think of them being a couple. You know, walking together and being alone together and eating out somewhere and going to parties and being in bed together and meeting each others families, and I wondered what kind of things she says. I wondered what she would say when they got in the car to go home. Or what she would tell him if he told her to do something really absurd.
And I think that she's scared. I think that she's insecure and she makes up for that insecurity by being with him. And I think he's content with it because he wants control, he wants to control her and for her to be his, which is really stupid because nobody should belong to anyone. We aren't dogs. (Right?) Anyway, it all made me feel really sad for her because I could see their whole life ahead of them and I could see her being unhappy and him not caring and her finally leaving him and being stuck with the three kids and no money. All because she didn't know herself well enough to be herself and she wanted someone to tell her who she is. Why is that? Why do we want someone to order us around, someone to make the decisions, tell us who we should be? It's "unhealthy", but it's exciting. I personally love that. When the guy is cocky and overbearing and actually has a right to be. Is it because we want to be feminine and when the guy is a guy and not a man, we're forced to be a man, which interferes with us being feminine? (If you followed that). Or is it just simply easier not to have to think?

I just hope you understand

You know how there are those people that you look at and you see them, not how their hair looks today or their body or face shape, you just see them? You know them so well that the way they look doesn't make any difference at all anymore? How do you define that? How can you pinpoint exactly when it happens and why and especially how? Or like when the places you go to frequently change? Everything is in the same place but it looks different, you see it differently? How does that happen? Is it because we change and our outlook changes? Or is it some weird, supernatural thing where the place actually does change? But how could that be?
The place I notice that most in is my grandma's house. Sometimes I go there and I don't notice anything different, it just is. But then there are those times that I go there and feel differently than normal, but it's familiar. I've seen it this way, felt this way before. Or is it me thats changing? Am I just remembering how I used to see it and how I used to feel?
Or when I look at my sister or Ariel. I can't actually see how they "look". I can only see them. And the way they look is exactly the same as it always is and always has been and I can't notice it. But I can look at other people and see their appearance. How does that happen? When does knowing a person mean more than seeing them? At what point in a relationship does personality surpass appearance?

i'm working, but i'm not working for you

Have you ever wanted something weird? It's wrong and "creepy" but you just can't let it go. And you know that if people knew they would look at you differently or give you that one look that people give you when they think you're weird and "funny" (and not in the ha-ha way). But you don't have much else going on in your life and so you focus on it, even though you shouldn't, and before you know it, it's turned into a full-fledged obsession. Then all you can do is think about it and obsess over it and get depressed. So you tell your friends because you tell your friends everything and they confirm your earlier assumption by giving you "that look", which only makes you feel worse and fall into an even deeper depression. But you're not depressed. And you're not obsessed. You're just "weird" because you want something "weird" and the more you think about it, the more you don't know what it is or why you're obsessed with it so you think some more. Which just drags you into deeper thought, and then you fall asleep not remembering what it was you were thinking about. And then the next morning you wake up, and you think about it, the weird thing you want. And throughout the day you think about it and think about it until you don't know what it is or why you want it and you fall asleep and it starts all over and you wonder how or when it even began in the first place.

sometimes the first thing you want never comes

It's weird to think that there's another reality. One that's so completely different from the one we live in, that the people living in it are considered "unstable". One that doesn't involve getting up every morning and going to bed every night, or getting a job and making decent money, or even basically surviving. One where the people aren't always looking for more or trying to move up in the world, but one where they're just living, if you can even call it that. One that is only in their heads. And they chose it. That's what a lot of people don't understand. Most of them chose it. They experienced it once and then decided to stay. They saw something new, something different and then they saw the actual reality and they chose their way. It's like they'd been walking on this clear cut path and now they came to a crossroad. One side was exactly what they'd been doing with clearly marked lines and predictability. The other side was confusing with blurry lines and it was all spinning and multi-colored. And they chose the weird side. They were intrigued. And what's so wrong with that?

remembering every star

Let's say you go on vacation to some famous place like Paris. You get to stay for seven days, a week. You will most likely never be back to Paris in your lifetime so what do you want to do? Likely you want to see all the sights, like the Eiffel Tower, and experience all the things you can there before the week is up, right? So why don't we do that with Earth?
The way I see it, we're all on vacation. An extremely extended vacation, but still a vacation. Yet, rarely anyone takes advantage of it. How many of us actually go and "see the sights"? How many of us travel around and experience all there is to experience? Not very many. We all seem to follow this routine. Go to high school, go to college, get a job, get married, have kids, blah, blah blah. But what's the point? We're all doing what we're supposed to do, but does it really make us happy? Or is it someone else's vision of what makes them happy and we're all just trying to live up to that expectation?
What if your vacation ended tomorrow? What if you ceased to exist after tonight? Would you be satisfied with what you've been doing, what you've done? Would you be OK with the fact that you've never seen the Seven Wonders? (Or eight or whatever that is) Or would you regret the fact that you were someplace great and never saw the sights?

who's got the claws in you?

We all want things. We want to have that perfect body, to have that perfect boyfriend and overall amazing life. We want these things because we want happiness and we think these things will give us it. Sometimes we want something so bad, so obsessively, that it alters our lives. Our lives are shaped by our desires. Everything we do is motivated by a strong desire. However indirect the particular thing we are doing is from what we actually want, it can still easily be traced back to a strong desire of ours.
Most of us understand this pretty easily with some directed thought, but have you ever thought about what would happen if we got something before we actually wanted it? Would we still, in the end, want it? Or would we need to lose in order to realize the desire we have for it? Or can we just simply not want it at all because we were never given the chance to envy it in someone else before ourselves?
For example, let's say we were born, or rather came of age, with a perfect body. Everything evenly proportioned and envied by others, but we weren't yet old enough and well versed in society to want it and neither were our peers and friends. We looked at our body with a bit of disgust and acceptance, and our friends didn't notice the perfectness of it, only the difference between theirs and ours, so instead of praising God for the gift he gave us, we either resented it's uniqueness or just merely accepted it and didn't give it a second thought.
Now that's kind of a poor example because later on in life we would most likely realize how much we have been blessed with and be cocky about it, or we would lose it and curse our younger self for letting it get away pretty much due to the fact that everything is very centered around personal image and vanity now. But what if we kept it, and didn't ever realize what a gift we had? Wouldn't that be weird? When you think about that, it makes you wonder whether or not you have an unnoticed and ungratified blessing? And, chances are, you probably do. We all probably have some talent that is not receiving the gratification it deserves, irregardless of whether or not others recognize it in us.

you can go, you can stay

I want to be in love. In that really big way. In the amazing movie and book way. The way Edmond and Ada are in Cold Mountain. The way Sarah and Daniel are in Taming the Beast. The way Benjamin and Daisy are in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The way Sayuri and the Chairman are in Memoirs of a Geisha. I want to have what they have, to feel what they feel.
In each of those stories, they lose. War and death tear apart Edmond and Ada, society and brutal passion come between Sarah and Daniel. Benjamin and Daisy are lost to age and time, and Sayuri and the Chairman lose to a war and society beliefs. They can never quite get it together, it never works out. But in the end, no matter what has happened and who they ended up with, they're all still in love with each other. Despite everything, what they feel doesn't waver, not even a little, and the fact that they aren't with each other anymore doesn't make a difference. They found each other by pure luck and were only together for a short period of time, but those few moments they had were enough. They all had the love at first sight part down, but without the rest of the fairytale and even though they never got the fairytale ending, the memories of the beginning and middle were enough. They accepted that they can't have a perfect ending because everything ends and nothing is forever.
I know it's not real, and maybe love like that can never be real. Maybe we all settle for what we can get and the rest is just in our heads. Maybe there are no soul mates and maybe there is no love at first sight. And maybe that's why they all lose. Maybe we can't have everything. Maybe true love is something we just can't keep.

Nothing lasts

Nothing lasts. Everything fades. Everything. Whether it takes years or merely a moment, it doesn't matter, because it will fade. It's not forever. How could it be? We aren't even forever. I've realized that time is our enemy as well as our ally. It can dull our greatest and wash away our worst. It takes everything and it makes everything, but it's not in control. We are. It can take away love and it can take away hate, it can take away beauty and it can make age, and it can take us, but we are still in control. All of those things are obviously beyond our control, but that doesn't mean we should be dependent on it. That doesn't mean we should spend all of our time preparing and expecting and worrying. What it does mean is that we get to choose. It means we shouldn't do anything, there should be no "shoulds". It means we get to do whatever we like. We get to decide. We don't decide what we get or how it's given to us or how long it will last, all we get to decide is what to do with it while we have it. So we should do what makes us happy for as long as it will make us happy, because nothing lasts. Someday everything will fade and sometimes things will fade and we'll fade with them and somethings things will fade and we'll stay exactly the same. And in the end, it will all work out or it won't. And if it doesn't, we should start over. Because we get to decide. There are no rules to this thing and there are no accidents. It's ours. And we only get one. So do what makes you happy, or don't. The beauty is, it's our choice. There are no rules.

As I come back home to you...

I was sprinting. My legs straining, my pulse racing, sweat dripping down my face, yet I felt nothing. Yards turned into miles, miles turned into years, yet I was still running. I must have been physically exhausted beyond belief but I felt none of it. Physically, I felt fine. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I was stressed, panicked. I felt as if I could never stop running. As if my feet rhythmically hitting the road were the only thing keeping me alive, my only claim to existence, and stopping would mean quitting, giving everything up. Giving up everything I had worked for, all the miles and years I had left behind me would mean nothing. I wanted to stop, but I needed to keep going. I was torn. And then, there it was. A long wooden dock, marking the end of my trip, the end of my existence. Beyond it was millions and millions of miles of deep, dark, blue water surrounded dense, luscious woods. I'd never seen anything that beautiful and terrifying. I knew what I had to do. I had to jump into it, to immerse myself in the deep, blue nothingness and give up the race. But it's not so easy, giving it all up. So as I reach the end of the dock and the rhythmic thumping of my feet against the wooden boards turns into silence. As my heartbeat slows and my limbs throb, as my body adjusts, as I wait for the inevitable wave of nausea that soon follows a hard workout, I just stare at the water. At water so deep that even if it was the clearest water in the world and you had those goggles with the funny light on top, you still couldn't even begin to see the bottom. I want to cry. Because it's beautiful and because it's awful and because I know what it means. I take off all my clothes, clothes I've worn forever, through all the miles and years. The clothes I have endured everything imaginable in. And then I sit on the edge of the dock naked, not caring about inevitable splinters in places wood should never touch and not caring about what the other people, lining the shores, hidden by the trees, must think because here they don't matter, barely even exist. I dip my feet in tentatively and "test the waters". It's cold but surprisingly comforting and I stand up, not wanting to leave it's comfort, and bend over getting ready to dive. As if I'm only going to dive into the local swimming pool on a hot summer day or off the sun deck on my beloved boat as I've done so many times before, where I know what awaits, yet I know this is different. I have no idea what awaits, all I know is that I'm ready to find out and all my doubts and uncertainties are washed away by the excitement. So I do it. I go through the motions. My legs bend and I leap off the dock. Up and over, in a perfect rainbow. And it's all going so slow. I can feel myself glide through the air and my brain registers as I'm about to hit the water. My fingertips touching the water, at first very gently, making them tingle. Then it's a blur as my body slides into the water. Every single inch of my body sits up and takes notice as the darkness closes in around me and I become the water. And I know, in that instant, that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

like the end of sad movie

I want to mess it all up.
To take all the things God has blessed me with, thought me worthy of and throw them away.
Screw them up beyond repair.
I want to take that extra forbidden step and cross the line,
I want to make that horrible mistake
And know what I'm doing while I'm doing it.
I want to know that I'll never get any of it back,
That by doing this, by stepping over the line, I'm ruining something really great.
I don't exactly know why, I just know that what's supposed to be good for me, isn't at all what I want.
But then again, I do want it. I want to be happy.
So why then, would I cringe with desire at the thought of messing it up?
Why does my mind race deliciously at the thought of screwing myself over?
Because I want to be happy, at least I think I do, doesn't everyone?
But is happiness so much of an alien-state that we can't bear the fact that our dreams may actually come true?
That we'll no longer have something to complain about, something to burden us.
Because how would we act, how would we be if there wasn't a lacking part in our life?
How would our conversations, our mannerisms even our relationships change,
If there wasn't anything to complain about?
So much of our lives revolve around the fact that we want more, need more, deserve more
That when we get it, we don't even have enough sense to hold on to it.
Or is it that we're afraid?
Afraid of happiness, afraid of putting an end to the chase.
In any case, is that really what we've reduced ourselves to?
Has happiness really become the enemy?

I won't waste a minute without you?

Shared goals. Common ground. Similar interests. Respect. Comfort. Trust.
Is that love?
Passion. Intensity. Going insane. Going to extreme, even dangerous lengths.
Is that love?
Which is it? I can't decide.
Is it better to live comfortably, feeling perfectly fine or live wildly, feeling everything intensely?
Is it comfort or passion?
I don't understand.
Which works? Which doesn't?
It's nice to have respect for each other and sensibility and everything but is that really love?
I think love is when you meet that person that drives you insane. The one person that fills that hole inside you and you feel so complete that you don't know how to function. You've lived your entire life without that piece and now you don't know how to live with all that passion.
I think it's when it's good it's really good and when it's bad it's really bad. It's so intense your moments of passion can be violent and brutal, bloody even.
I think it's walking around feeling like half your body is missing when they're gone.
I don't think it has anything to do with respect and having things in common. I think it's knowing the other person so completely that you're no longer two people. And when you're together, you're one. Two bodies, one soul. The "beast with two backs" in the sexual sense.
But if it is, then why are so many people living without it?
Can all that intensity really last? Or will you die of an overdose of each other?
And if you do actually die, then wouldn't it be worth it? Because what's living without half your body?