Late Honesty

Hey y'all.  Its been a while since we had an honest talk.  And maybe that's because I've been scared to talk for a while.  And I still am.  I never intend for this to become some sort of online diary, I'm too private for that.  And frankly it's no one's business.  But I think I'm in need of some truths.  So tonight I'll share some of my truths with you in hopes of inspiring you to face your own.

I am all alone.  Before Thanksgiving, I got in a fight with one of the most important people in my life.  And when the dust from that battle settled, I lost him and two other people I care about.  At first, I was just confused.  Now I'm confused and furious.  I extended an apology and here we are, over a month later, and I've heard not a peep from any of them.  As angry as I am, and as many furious fights as I've staged in my head, its hard to accept that I lost the last three friends that I had.  It was probably my fault.  I don't even remember what we were fighting about.  But they don't seem to care that I'm gone, so why should I care that they left?  It sounds easy when you say it that way.  But lost love isn't all that can break your heart....

I fell in what I thought was love with a boy I didn't know when I was fifteen years old.  He walked past me with a ponytail and a guitar case and I haven't stopped thinking about him from that moment on.  I think we had a shot once upon a time, but we blew it.  He wasn't committed at all and I was so infatuated with him that I couldn't see reality.  He was all I could see and I didn't care what came next.  I don't know if he ever felt anything for me, and frankly I'm too scared to ask.  I don't want to admit to him that I let go of other relationships to pursue him.  I don't want to admit to him that I would still say yes to him in a heartbeat.  I don't want to admit that he was the first guy to break my heart and kill every trusting instinct in my body.  But I would take him back, in spite of all that, and that's what I'm the most ashamed of.

Someone I've cared for from a distance for a very long time has finally started to notice me.  And I have never been happier.  But I lost all my friends, and I can only annoy my relatives with the details so many times before I start to feel like a bother.  He's starting to feel familiar in a bad way though.  I'm afraid I'm giving him too much trust, too much time, too much thought.  But this is what I've wanted for so long, how am I supposed to stop now?  Every time my phone rings, I pray that it's him.  Every time it's not, my heart breaks a little more.  I'm terrified to reach out to him because I don't want to scare him away.  All people seem to do these days is leave, and I don't know if I could take that from him too.

I feel like I'm lost in this storm of fear and confusion and uncertainty.  If I had one thing to hold onto, maybe I'd be okay.  But I don't.  It's me all alone, spinning out of control and I don't know how to fix it.  Do I let them know how hurt I am? Or do I let it go? Do I call the first boy I ever loved and tell him everything he meant to me?  Or do I walk away?  Do I reach out first even though I'm scared?  Or wait for him to come to me?

I don't have the answers yet. Maybe I never will.  But knowing what I'm scared of helps.  It gives me control over something.  Even if I don't know what to do with that control.

So, late-night-bloggers, random people gracious enough to give this your time, or friends who read this without telling me, What are your truths?  What are you afraid of?  And what do you do?  I pray you're lucky enough to find answers more swiftly than I.

Beautiful, Terrible Distance

Sometimes all you really need is distance.
Distance is a beautiful, troubling thing.  Too much can distort things and make them seem more beautiful than they are.  Too little and all you see are the flaws.
But sometimes, you drift out and get it just right.  You can see everything for what it truly is.  You get the bigger picture.  You forget the tiny details that seemed momentous when they were staring you in the face.
I took some steps back recently.
And I still can't see things as clearly as I'd like.
But I can see more than I did in the black storm cloud I walked away from.

I can see that some friendships aren't meant to last a lifetime.
And sticks and stones are not the only thing that can break you.
I can see that there are some feelings that never go away.
That time twists and distorts them into new, strange entities you never asked for.
I can see that some people will never truly see how much I love them.
And that I am guilty of the same things.
I can see that, if I'm patient, God is always going to answer my prayers.
And the answer isn't always what I want to hear.
I can see how healthy I am emotionally, and mentally.
And how bad off I was for a while there.
I can see that there are people in my life that I don't deserve and I take them for granted.
And that some people who didn't deserve me where taking me for granted as well.

I can't see it all.  I don't know where my heart is.  I don't know how my life is going to change in the coming months, or how I'll handle it.  I don't know exactly who I am.

But I know I'm worth more than the selfish people I used to associate with.  I know writing is all I'm ever going to want to do with my life.  I know that as hard as school is for me, its helping me.  I know that I am never alone, that God is always with me.  I know that life will always be a crazy ride.  All we get to choose is weather we hold on, or let go.

Seasons Greetings

Merry Christmas loyal readers.
It's the season of light and laughter down here in the south.  It's a season of parties and weddings and shopping.  It's the season for giving, for togetherness, and love.

But around here, it's a season of sadness, and loneliness too.

Its the time of year where mourning and grief show up at the train station with bags full of memories. They unload and take their coats off to stay a while.  And even when you beg them not to, they drag out the photo album and show you everything you've lost.

Some of the pictures make you laugh until you cry.  And some make you cry until you laugh.  And some just prick holes in your lungs with pins of anguish and suck the air from your chest.

There's so much to be grateful for, and you look around at everything you have and you realize just how lucky you are to be living your life.  But the empty chairs where loved ones used to sit, and the empty inbox waiting for Christmas wishes from friends remind us with a bitter sting that nothing will ever be how it was again.  And all that reminder does is hurt.

You never know who's losing their mind in your life.  Most of us are good at keeping it quiet.  So in the spirit of giving, I'll give you some advice. Weather your living it up or trying not to give up, take a moment to remember those that you've lost and those who have lost, and send up prayers of mercy for their pain.

Letters of Fear

I've always thought I was strong and cool and brilliant.
It turns out, I'm afraid.
I'm terrified of so many things.
But the one thing that I'm scared of, that ruins everything, is telling people how I feel.
Because I'm afraid, I won't do it to their face, but this is my safe zone.  And here comes danger.

To whom it may concern,

I didn't write that message all those months ago.  The one that said I was done with you and all my feelings relating to you.  I wasn't done.  I'll never be done.   I don't know how to be done with you.  I didn't want to write it and I didn't want to send it.  But the people around me convinced me that I had to.  That in order for my life to go on, I had to let you go.  And they were right for a while.  Or they convinced me they were.  It didn't feel right when I was crying in the living room at 2 A.M. and it doesn't feel right now.  So I'm sorry, that I let that happen.  I'm sorry I said goodbye when I didn't want to because I think I lost my very last shot.  Now you're looking for something new and I think it could be me.  But I doubt you'll even look my way because of what I said.

To whom it may concern,

I don't know what to do.  I thought things were going well until you dropped off the face of the earth.  It all came together and fell apart within a week.  You were there and everything was brilliance and happiness and then you were gone.  I could feel it the minute it happened.  I felt things change.  Maybe it was the freezing temperature outside.  Or maybe nature got in the way.  But something happened and you're gone now.  I won't be the first to reach out.  I won't tell you I miss you.  But I've gotten as close to that as possible.  You fell into my life when I needed you most.  I needed someone who didn't make me feel crazy or weird.  I showed you things that no one even knows exist.  You've seen my work in the earliest, messiest, most fragile stages.  You should know it takes a lot for that to happen.  Where ever you are, come back.  My mind is restless and I need your ideas.

To whom it may concern,

I never should have reached out to you.  It was a moment of weakness and I hope you don't respond.  I should've trusted my instincts and kept you as far from me as possible.  All you'll do is absorb the details of my life like a sponge and then wring them out in places I never wanted them to be.  Follow your instincts and run from this conflict.  Just pass away into my past and don't try to make a comeback.  It was weakness on my part, but I'm not weak anymore.  And you aren't strong enough to handle this.

The Unfortunate Nature of Labels

I've always hated stereotypes.  I find it hard to find anything more degrading than shoving a label on someones forehead and then resigning them to that box for the rest of forever.  But what I didn't realize is how how much I've been trying to operate under stereotypes myself.

Until recently, I had a friend who was obsessed with labels.  I don't even know if he realized it.  I sure didn't.  Then one day I realized he only referred to me as "the blonde" "the dumb blonde" and "the country blonde".

And I realized something about stereotypes.

I'd always been looking for a box to fit in to.  But my imagination was too big for this and my attitude didn't quite fit in that and my style was just not the right size for those.  I was never 'popular' by typical standards.  But I had friends in every clique.  As a kid, it's hard to see the value in that.  You feel like you could belong anywhere but actually belong nowhere at all.  But now, looking back, and knowing the kind of person I am, I wonder why I ever wanted to fit into a stereotype at all.

How boring is it to be one thing?  To never strive to be more?  To never push yourself of test your boundaries?  To never leave your comfort zone?
Why would you want to be one thing when you could be twelve?  It makes identity complicated, but life is complex.  And if life is simple, are you really living it at all?

I would rather have a life full of crazy, uncomfortable, rewarding, exciting, experiences than to say I lived a calm life.  Life, humanity itself is infinitely complex.  So why would you settle for being anything less than that?  We only get one chance at this life, so why not make the most of it and become every inch of who we can be?

I've always wanted to be Cinderella.  But now, I want so much more.  I still want to be Cinderella, and get a pretty dress, and win over the prince.  But I want to fight the dragon in Sleeping Beauty too.  And I want to be a warrior, and a fighter, and a peacemaker, and an artist, and a friend, and a mentor.  I want to find every instinct in my body and at least attempt to use it.

Yeah I have a southern accent, and yeah I have blonde hair.  But I'm smart and I'm not ashamed of it. I love football and superheros and action and war movies.  But I also love gushy, romantic movies and fantasy books and glitter.
I don't have to pick any one thing.  No one does.  Because who would want just one label when you could have a collection of them?

Who would want to be simple enough to describe in one word?  I certainly do not.

Sunday Coffee

He  came in soft and slow,

settling in before she even knew he had come.

He was warm, like Sunday morning coffee.

She wasn't sure what to do,

but the answer came in easy like a breeze.

And before she knew where she was,

or how she had gotten there,

she was in love.

Poison Memory

Every time you're there, the memories come.
They sit at the tip of my tongue.
All the horrors I've seen.
The past I try to hide.
They sit and wait, like a drop of poison, to fall to your ear.
But every time you take a breath, your eyes light up, and I can't do it.
You talk about your passions and bring mine to life.
You drive the madness back inside.
You keep it at bay one day at a time.
I crave your calming presence.
I pray for one more day of your easy smile.
For one more chance to hear you laugh,
And you save me every day.

Rosy Steps

She went from walking across plains of barren ash, to fields of roses in a week.
They sprung up, all around her feet, all at once, with no warning.
At first, it was a small patch.
But it followed her as she walked.
With each step she took, they sprung up.
Every place her foot kissed the earth, another row would grow, spreading like a brilliant fire across the barren land.
They made her feel like running.
Like filling her lungs with clean air and escaping the dusty cloud she lived in.
And so she ran.
The flowers followed her, ever as loyal as they were stunning.
The blood in her veins was racing.
Her heart was beating.
Before she knew it, all she could see was color and she forgot what blandness felt like.