Aching Soul

There are few things in this world that tug at my soul.
There are moments, for me at least, where want becomes need.
My pulse quickens, my heart constricts, and in that moment, I am nearly in tears because my life is devoid of whatever it is that I'm looking for.
When I was sixteen, it was a boy.
Now, at almost twenty one, it has become destination.
There is an inexplicable need to travel inside of me.
My bones ache for new soil and my very soul yearns for the experience.
I think those are the feelings we need to follow.
The ones so strong that they bring us to our knees.
The ones that take up every inch of our mind, unraveling us until we are nothing but unquenchable curiosity.
Because in the grand scheme of things, how many moments like that are we going to have?
When something grips you in your very essence, it's not something to ignore.

His Alone

And just like that she was in love again.

He was her heart and soul.

Everything good and bad, she wanted it all.

She wanted his demons and his problems.  His angels and his songs.

She wanted every twisted, jagged edge that made him who he was.

And though she could find replicas, they were but empty shells compared to him.

They were breezes compared to his storm.

He breathed life into her very bones by simply existing.

And before he even knew it, she was his alone.

Chest of Novocain

Maybe if I fill my chest with Novocain this ache will go away.
"They didn't even fight for me."  I think as I stifle another sob.  The deep red sunset mirrors the drop of blood forming on my lip where my teeth hold on tight, fighting to keep the sound inside.

Nothing matters as long as they can't hear me.  They can't know I'm drowning in tears and shattered memories.

It was one second.  The one second I've been dreading since they let go.  Since I cut the cord.  I saw them all together, smiling, happy, going about their lives as though we didn't just fall apart.  I could've handled that.  I suppose.

But I didn't count on the comic book store to slam my heart against my rib cage like it was trying to escape.  That was too much.  Too much emptiness.  Too much missing them.  Too much of my past reminding me how little I have in my present.

They didn't fight.  They let me walk away.  They didn't bat an eye at my accusations.  They acted like our falling apart wasn't going to shatter them the way it shattered me.

I would've fought for them, had the circumstances been reversed.  I would've agreed to any terms.  But they didn't even give me a chance.  They didn't fight for us.  For me.  For themselves.

Don't I deserve to be fought for?
Am I not enough on my own?
Am I that replaceable?
Am I so insignificant that I could disappear tomorrow and no one would notice my absence?

They didn't fight back.  Like everyone before them, they told me they loved me and then they left.  Because love is just a word.  And words are just pretty lies, no matter how you fashion them.

You Were Never Toxic

When you get your heart broken, it can make things seem dismal.  You start to think you imagined it all.  All the sweet words, the moments, the looks.  A broken heart tends to tint the world in darkness.

When I was fifteen I fell for someone that I probably would've been better off without.  And I blamed him for breaking my heart for a long time.  Until last night actually.  I spent six years hating him and yet not being able to give him up.  But last night, I found an old journal from high school.  I started reading and my silly little commentary on life brought a smile to my face.  When I realized just how far back it went, I started wondering what I had written about him.  And I finally found the many pages devoted to the confusion he caused my heart.

I didn't imagine things between us.  For however briefly, we did have something more than a friendship.  I could finally remember the butterflies when I saw him, the sweet torturous joy when he found me backstage and I gave him something I had made.

Suddenly, this person, these memories, all of these moments that used to bring tears to my eyes made me laugh.  I never thought I'd live to see the day when I looked back on him and smiled.  But the truth is, I had so much distance from where we began, that I couldn't see things right.  It took my sixteen year old account of every encounter we'd ever had to remind me how much I loved him.  My friends thought he was the worst thing for me.  Toxic.  Poison.  Danger.  But he wasn't.  They were jealous, and fake, and clueless.  He was everything I ever needed.  He was a lesson in so many things.  And if he hadn't been the first to break my heart, someone else would have.  It had to come eventually, and I'm glad it was him and not someone else.

I've spent pretty much every moment since I met him wondering how I was so lucky and also how life could be so unfair.  But the truth is, he didn't break my heart.  Sure, I wish he had stuck around.  I wish he hadn't gotten engaged.  Twice.  I wish we had had a shot at a real relationship and not this weird stuck in the middle thing we've got now.  But it way my expectation that crushed me.  It was idolizing an idea of him and not accepting who he really was that hurt me.  It was my series of many mistakes that broke my heart.  He was just being a nice guy and indulging a silly sophomore that thought the world of him.  In all honesty, I owe him more gratitude for showing me kindness than anything else.

I don't know if he's one of the few that sees these things.  I'm not sure I want to know.  But last night, I learned a valuable lesson.  Nothing is all bad.  There might be pain in the middle, but you can't forget the moments that gave you inexhaustible joy.  Because if you dwell on all the hurt, every other situation in life becomes tainted.  And nothing is worse than good memories that have been twisted and tainted by time.

Army of Darkness

She had always held the illusion that she was a princess.  The embodiment of love and light and sweetness. But one day, she fell for a villain.  Dark and dastardly and toxic.  And that was the beginning of the end of her delusions.
Once she fell and stained her snowy reputation, it was just a matter of time.  The years went by and the darkness accumulated in her heart.  Sometimes she couldn't control the violent outbursts.  Try as she might, she couldn't pretend forever to be that immaculate, glittering princess of perfection she'd hoped to be for so long.
She fought for light.  She fought for love.  But it never mattered much what she was fighting for.  The forces of the world were much too strong.  So she gave in to the poison screaming through her veins.  Before long, she was more powerful, more irresistible than she could have ever hoped to be.
She took control of the growing grains of hurt and formed an army.  An army of her past regrets and demons and heartaches alike.
And once she commanded the forces of darkness at will, she could banish them for days at a time.
She could never be rid of them for good, but it gave her the control she needed.
She could be the princess she had always hoped with the power of the villain who had stolen her heart.
With an army of darkness, she built her castle and her future out of beams of light and stones of sadness and no one could slow her down.

No More Fire

My life has a tendency to fall apart.  I'm not great at keeping things together.  But every time it falls, I find some fire, some resolve to prove that the world can't keep me down.

This time though, the fire is gone.  Life has stamped out the embers until they were just ash on the ground.  I look for resolve in everything around me.  People.  Music.  Books.  Characters.  But nothing seems to stick.  I don't know where the fire went.  Or how to bring it back.

I used to be able to fight.  I was a warrior.  I was strong.
But the weight of the tears in my pillow is finally too much.  And it's all I can do not to freeze to death in this desolate wasteland.  No fire means no fight.  And without my fight, what am I really?  Just a girl with a broken heart and no one to help me back up.

Again.

You fall in love.  You fall out of it.  You go through all the steps.  Grief, anger, denial, acceptance.  And just when you start breathing freely again, the past rounds a corner and slams into your chest, leaving you with shaking hands and cloudy eyes and shallow breathing and icy blood.

Just when you think it's been put to sleep for the last time, your heartbreak wakes up again.  It catches your eye and caresses your cheek and makes you question every thought in your head.

When you've stacked the pieces of  your heart right and you turn to walk away, it catches you by the ankle and your progress spills out on the ground.

You think you've got it figured out and then it falls apart again.  Your future shines on the horizon, but how can you walk away from so many untied ends?  And just like that, you're fighting back your past one last time, trying to salvage your future.

Sorrow Is [built from prompt]

Sorrow is the texture of sandpaper, constantly shredding and filing and grating on your skin, rubbing you raw until the pain in unbearable.

It sounds like rain, tapping on your window, relentless, just enough to make your head pound and your chest ache for freedom.

Looks like tumultuous water, you see the hints of motion from a distance, but once inside, you’re trapped, forever doomed to toss and turn and drown.

Tastes like ash.  Dusty and stale and dry and nauseating, turning everything grey and wasted.

And it smells of poison, a dark, pulsating mass of deadly force, inching ever closer, making your nose and throat burn and stinging your eyes.

Sorrow is not for the faint of heart.  Sorrow is not for the weak.  Sorrow is internal warfare of the heart and mind and none of its soldiers come back the same. 

The Year of Opportunity

Welcome to 2016.

The past year has been filled with highs and lows.  I honestly can't tell you how many times I felt like my heart would burst with happiness, or with sorrow.  Several points in the past year have made me realize that I give people way too many chances.  I never want to be hard-hearted or mean, but I do deserve a certain level of respect from my peers and I intend to receive that respect. 

 I lost sight of my worth in 2015.  I let my past drag me down.  So I'm going into this year with no real friends, but I'm fine with that.  I let go of all the dead weight from 2015, and I'm going into 2016 light as air.  I don't need anyone who doesn't need me, and I certainly won't settle for anything less than what I deserve.

My word for the new year is Opportunity.  I'm going to find them and take them as they come, and hopefully, open up a whole new world of possibilities for myself.  Who knows what this year will bring?  I don't.  But I have hope for the best, and I know regardless of the outcome, if I keep my eyes on Christ, I'll turn out just fine.

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.