"I keep crying tears of joy. I guess that's what you're put here for. To change these tears of pain to tears of happiness."
Catherine dashed down a few more quick sips of champagne before following the rest of the girls out of the dressing room. Her hands were shaking and a part of her thought she wasn't going to make it the thirty feet to the alter doors.
Then she saw a silhouette of herself in the stained glass windows in the hallway. Light was pouring in from the outside, reminding her of how beautiful this day was. A light that illuminated the hallway beyond its regular muted lighting. She looked perfect in that silhouette.
Catherine's mind eased a little and she began to really take in the moment. This was her wedding day. A day she never imagined to come. Catherine had never been the girl who dreamed about having a family. She simply had not seen herself with a husband or kids, and frankly never wanted the responsibility. That is until Jeff.
It wasn't one of those immediate things. She hadn't looked into Jeff's eyes and knew he was the one. But it was unexpected. Catherine had long ago given up the dating game, opting instead to fill her life with career and family and friends. She was content, but now she realized never fully happy.
Jeff had been like the sunlight. Pouring into her and lighting up the dimness of her heart. It was a feeling she found she could never properly explain, but it was amazing and so real.
So here Catherine was. Her wedding day. And as she finally reached her father and took his hand, she felt calm. One little peek through the small window in the altar door had allowed her to see Jeff and she was sure. Sure that she loved him and sure that she was ready for a life of happiness.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, November 8, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
tell him the truth
"Look I know it's no excuse but I'm only human, and young at that. So I'm gonna make mistakes, then hope you understand."
It had all gone so terribly wrong. Mainly, the relationship and that phone call.
Royce had never felt anything like what he felt with Caroline. The very first time he saw her, he loved her. He tried to play it cool, but he had been so obvious in that first moment. Just awe at this beautiful creature before him. He couldn’t fake it. And time would teach that lesson to him over and over again. He adored her and he was foolish enough to think that was enough. That their relationship would be a carefree journey. Something straight out of the movies.
Instead things fell apart. Which in hindsight wasn’t actually surprising. They went to romantic comedies together, had drinks in the evening on the couch, met each other’s parents. But they kept each other at a distance. They didn’t talk about their dreams or fears. They didn’t talk about how they loved each other. They acted like a couple. And were stupid enough to be surprised that acting wasn’t enough.
It was no one’s fault. It certainly wasn’t hers. Royce was the one that had become unsettled first. That even before he could really recognize it, knew that something wasn’t quite right. And then one night he went out with the guys and he met a girl. A random girl at a random bar. She was cute enough, but so were a million other girls. But she sat and she talked to him. They left together and went back to her place. And they sat and talked more. They talked about everything, and it was suddenly so clear everything that was wrong with his relationship with Caroline.
And he was but a man, so he did what men sometimes do. He let the moment carry him and he slept with that girl. He couldn’t even look at her as he left the next morning. He couldn’t look at himself. Caroline was out of town but the phone was sitting right by him in the car. So he called her and he told her what happened. She cried. He pretended not to. She told him so much in that thirty minute conversation. So much about the dreams she had for their life together, the things he did that made her love him, the hope that she found in him. It was everything he had ever needed to hear. Just a day too late. And then she was gone. She was done with him and she was gone.
Royce sat there. By that stupid phone. And he felt physically ill. Shortness of breath, dizziness, nausea, a numbingly sharp pain throughout his body. Maybe this was shock. Or maybe this was what it felt like when your heart actually broke.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
satellites
"How can we live if we don't change?"
Warren and Rebecca had three children. They had always wanted three, and ten years after getting married, here they were with three healthy and happy kids.
There was Danny. A rambunctious 9 year old, with a strong appetite and yellow belt in karate. Danny was also the listener. Sometimes it amazed his parents just how much he knew, even about them. It could be annoying, but it was beautiful to see how that quality emerged as such a caring part of him. He was so aware of what others were going through or needed help with.
There was Eliza. She was the intellectual, always sitting somewhere thinking. She had learned to read already and was devouring books they way her big brother devoured dinner. Eliza's main love had always been learning. And she held her knowledge. Already her understanding of things, her knowledge base was far beyond that of the average 6 year old.
And there was little Hope. They named her Hope because that pregnancy had been so difficult. She was the sensitive one, known to cry at the drop of a hat. But she was also the daring one, eager to brave one adventure after another. She was only 2 years old but she had been that way since birth. So open about her feelings. So ready to try out the whole world.
To Warren and Rebecca, it had seemed these amazing kids had just sprung from mid-air. That they were born with these amazing personalities and gifts. It was their natural state, nothing that instilled in them or taught to them. But just maybe, it was Danny seeing his father everyday at his karate practices that made him first begin to notice and care about the kids whose parents never showed up. Maybe it was the way Rebecca took the time to answer every one of Eliza's questions that let her know that learning was important. And maybe it was the way Warren and Rebecca poured affection on Hope that gave her the sense that crying was okay and that they would always be there when she fell.
There is a truth that may have escaped Warren and Rebecca. That loving makes them grow. Telling them that you love them reassures them, and that confidence gives them license to better. Showing them how much you love them encourages them, and that manifests in bigger dreams and goals.
So if you haven't already today, love someone.
Warren and Rebecca had three children. They had always wanted three, and ten years after getting married, here they were with three healthy and happy kids.
There was Danny. A rambunctious 9 year old, with a strong appetite and yellow belt in karate. Danny was also the listener. Sometimes it amazed his parents just how much he knew, even about them. It could be annoying, but it was beautiful to see how that quality emerged as such a caring part of him. He was so aware of what others were going through or needed help with.
There was Eliza. She was the intellectual, always sitting somewhere thinking. She had learned to read already and was devouring books they way her big brother devoured dinner. Eliza's main love had always been learning. And she held her knowledge. Already her understanding of things, her knowledge base was far beyond that of the average 6 year old.
And there was little Hope. They named her Hope because that pregnancy had been so difficult. She was the sensitive one, known to cry at the drop of a hat. But she was also the daring one, eager to brave one adventure after another. She was only 2 years old but she had been that way since birth. So open about her feelings. So ready to try out the whole world.
To Warren and Rebecca, it had seemed these amazing kids had just sprung from mid-air. That they were born with these amazing personalities and gifts. It was their natural state, nothing that instilled in them or taught to them. But just maybe, it was Danny seeing his father everyday at his karate practices that made him first begin to notice and care about the kids whose parents never showed up. Maybe it was the way Rebecca took the time to answer every one of Eliza's questions that let her know that learning was important. And maybe it was the way Warren and Rebecca poured affection on Hope that gave her the sense that crying was okay and that they would always be there when she fell.
There is a truth that may have escaped Warren and Rebecca. That loving makes them grow. Telling them that you love them reassures them, and that confidence gives them license to better. Showing them how much you love them encourages them, and that manifests in bigger dreams and goals.
So if you haven't already today, love someone.
Monday, August 2, 2010
harlem blues
There are beautiful days
The sun is shining, the sky is a gentle blue
A quick breeze can pick up the sound of children's laughter and the smell of flowers blooming
And every moment feels tailor made
Like the sun is shining directly to you
Every breath gets better
But storm clouds gather so fast with a slip of the tongue
The sky darkens with every crease in his furrowed brow
And his words are raindrops, each one coming harsher and faster than the last
Lightning strikes angrily the sweet brown eyes of heaven
And you're not sure if you hear thunder or simply the sound of your heart breaking and falling in pieces to the ground
You move with the wind, he takes one step forward so you take one back
The search for a haven is in vain, so you gather your strength to quietly wait out the storm
You know its almost over when the rain changes to a soft, salty ocean streaming down your face
And it hurts to know that even through this storm you can his sun shine
"Like much weather, when he'll change nobobdy knows."
The sun is shining, the sky is a gentle blue
A quick breeze can pick up the sound of children's laughter and the smell of flowers blooming
And every moment feels tailor made
Like the sun is shining directly to you
Every breath gets better
But storm clouds gather so fast with a slip of the tongue
The sky darkens with every crease in his furrowed brow
And his words are raindrops, each one coming harsher and faster than the last
Lightning strikes angrily the sweet brown eyes of heaven
And you're not sure if you hear thunder or simply the sound of your heart breaking and falling in pieces to the ground
You move with the wind, he takes one step forward so you take one back
The search for a haven is in vain, so you gather your strength to quietly wait out the storm
You know its almost over when the rain changes to a soft, salty ocean streaming down your face
And it hurts to know that even through this storm you can his sun shine
"Like much weather, when he'll change nobobdy knows."
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
ain't no mountain high enough
"If you should fall short of your desires, remember life holds for you one guarantee: you'll always have me."
The tears glistened on Miranda Joy's face as she swayed automatically to the music. It seemed strange to her now that she had been worried about this moment, that she had thought she would feel self-conscious with so many people watching her. But the instant she had begun dancing with her son, she forgot about the people at the reception and embraced the moment.
To be honest, the whole day had been draining for her. Watching her only son marry was tougher than she'd ever expected. Miranda Joy liked her new daughter-in-law. They had met on several occasions and she seemed to be an excellent person that really loved her son. But now that the moment was here, an apprehension had grown in Miranda Joy and she was no longer at ease with the idea of giving her son to this woman.
So when the time for the mother-son dance had come, Miranda Joy was eager to have this moment with her son. And he was beaming. She had never seen him so blissful and content. She felt as if there was something that needed to be said in this moment. Some piece of sage advice or loving anecdote to share before sending her son off to be a husband. But she was too full of anxiety to offer such.
The music played and Miranda Joy tried not to get tears on her son's tuxedo.
The tears glistened on Miranda Joy's face as she swayed automatically to the music. It seemed strange to her now that she had been worried about this moment, that she had thought she would feel self-conscious with so many people watching her. But the instant she had begun dancing with her son, she forgot about the people at the reception and embraced the moment.
To be honest, the whole day had been draining for her. Watching her only son marry was tougher than she'd ever expected. Miranda Joy liked her new daughter-in-law. They had met on several occasions and she seemed to be an excellent person that really loved her son. But now that the moment was here, an apprehension had grown in Miranda Joy and she was no longer at ease with the idea of giving her son to this woman.
So when the time for the mother-son dance had come, Miranda Joy was eager to have this moment with her son. And he was beaming. She had never seen him so blissful and content. She felt as if there was something that needed to be said in this moment. Some piece of sage advice or loving anecdote to share before sending her son off to be a husband. But she was too full of anxiety to offer such.
The music played and Miranda Joy tried not to get tears on her son's tuxedo.
Friday, June 11, 2010
all you wanted
"I didn't know that it was so cold and you needed someone to show you the way."
There once was a little girl. And I do mean little. Although she was nearly sixteen years old, she was barely five feet tall and didn't even weigh a hundred pounds. She was a quiet girl, thoughtful, intelligent and full of wit. She lived in an old, creaky house out in the country with her mother, her father, and her baby brother.
This house was old. And creaky. It was built before modern luxuries like electricity and indoor plumbing were commonplace this far out in the country. So the after-the-fact wiring was shoddy and the plumbing was loud.
One cold, windy winter the day, the little girl was at home with her baby brother and the lights went out. Inexplicably taking the radiator with it. The little girl knew that the house would be freezing in a few hours (thank goodness for weather proofing). She needed to get a fire going in the large fireplaces that adorned nearly every room in the old, creaky house. The little girl put her baby brother in his quilted outerwear, put him down in his crib, and grabbed her father's big axe and wood splitter.
About two hundred feet from the back door of the old, creaky house were stacks of large wood. That would needed to be chopped before it could be burnt. So the little girl set to it. She chopped and chopped, until her little body was exhausted. She decided to sit down for just a moment. The little girl sat on the large tree stump she had been using as a chopping base. She rested her head back onto the high wooden fence the wood was stacked up against. And as one might expect dozed off right there in a matter of seconds.
The little girl sat there asleep. Her dreams slowly turned from trudging in stacks of wood across a snowy field to sitting on the sand beside a beach with the sun warming her back. But her beach dream was interrupted. There was suddenly a boy there, maybe five years old. A boy whose face looked so familiar though she couldn't quite place where she knew him. And he grabbed her hand and began pulling her away from the sun. His hand was so cold.
The little girl grudgingly began to stir on her tree stump as the boy in her dreams pulled her farther away from that warm beach sun. She woke with the sudden realization of how cold she was. Her fingers and toes were numb. And when she tried to get up, her whole body ached of cold. The little girl clumsily grabbed as many pieces of wood as her nearly useless hands could maneuver. The walk to the house was torturous but she finally made it.
As the time went on, her baby brother grew. And as the time went on, a sense of deja vu would sweep over the little girl when she looked at his little aging face. Tragedy struck when he was five, and her brother died in a car accident. As the little girl, now twenty years old but still just as small as before, looked into the little coffin her brother lay in at his funeral she could not believe her eyes. She suddenly realized that there lay the boy from all those years ago that dragged her back to life in her dream.
"So I took your hand and we figured out that when the tide comes I'd take you away."
There once was a little girl. And I do mean little. Although she was nearly sixteen years old, she was barely five feet tall and didn't even weigh a hundred pounds. She was a quiet girl, thoughtful, intelligent and full of wit. She lived in an old, creaky house out in the country with her mother, her father, and her baby brother.
This house was old. And creaky. It was built before modern luxuries like electricity and indoor plumbing were commonplace this far out in the country. So the after-the-fact wiring was shoddy and the plumbing was loud.
One cold, windy winter the day, the little girl was at home with her baby brother and the lights went out. Inexplicably taking the radiator with it. The little girl knew that the house would be freezing in a few hours (thank goodness for weather proofing). She needed to get a fire going in the large fireplaces that adorned nearly every room in the old, creaky house. The little girl put her baby brother in his quilted outerwear, put him down in his crib, and grabbed her father's big axe and wood splitter.
About two hundred feet from the back door of the old, creaky house were stacks of large wood. That would needed to be chopped before it could be burnt. So the little girl set to it. She chopped and chopped, until her little body was exhausted. She decided to sit down for just a moment. The little girl sat on the large tree stump she had been using as a chopping base. She rested her head back onto the high wooden fence the wood was stacked up against. And as one might expect dozed off right there in a matter of seconds.
The little girl sat there asleep. Her dreams slowly turned from trudging in stacks of wood across a snowy field to sitting on the sand beside a beach with the sun warming her back. But her beach dream was interrupted. There was suddenly a boy there, maybe five years old. A boy whose face looked so familiar though she couldn't quite place where she knew him. And he grabbed her hand and began pulling her away from the sun. His hand was so cold.
The little girl grudgingly began to stir on her tree stump as the boy in her dreams pulled her farther away from that warm beach sun. She woke with the sudden realization of how cold she was. Her fingers and toes were numb. And when she tried to get up, her whole body ached of cold. The little girl clumsily grabbed as many pieces of wood as her nearly useless hands could maneuver. The walk to the house was torturous but she finally made it.
As the time went on, her baby brother grew. And as the time went on, a sense of deja vu would sweep over the little girl when she looked at his little aging face. Tragedy struck when he was five, and her brother died in a car accident. As the little girl, now twenty years old but still just as small as before, looked into the little coffin her brother lay in at his funeral she could not believe her eyes. She suddenly realized that there lay the boy from all those years ago that dragged her back to life in her dream.
"So I took your hand and we figured out that when the tide comes I'd take you away."
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
look after you
"If ever there was a doubt, my love she leans into me. 'This most assuredly counts,' she says most assuredly."
Michael was leaving today. It was odd how Daniella had known this day was coming for weeks but was still surprised. She was there with him when he interviewed and then chose a renter. She helped him box up belongings. Yet, the day had come, the moment was here, and Daniella wasn't prepared. In fact, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or applaud or hide. Logically, she knew this was the opportunity of a lifetime for Michael. He had to take it. He had to go. But it seemed completely insane to her that he would no longer be there everyday.
In the end, Daniella decided to applaud. After all, she loved him. She loved his passion, and respected his need to embrace those things he had passion for. And no matter how he felt for her, she knew she would never be his only passion. More importantly, she didn't want to be. Daniella adored every crook and cranny of this man.
So, here they were. At the moment of departure. Michael's car was packed. The keys had been transferred. Every part of Daniella was aching. Yet while she was unsure of when this ache would end, of how this distance would affect their relationship, of what tomorrow would be like without the love of her life, she knew one thing for sure. Daniella knew that this was the right choice for Michael. That this was his opportunity, his moment to finally shine. So she hugged him. She told him she loved him. She wiped his tears away, kissed his face. She put her hand on his heart. She told him she loved him, opened his car door, and wished him a safe drive. And because she was calm, he was calm. Because she was happy for him, he was at ease to leave.
Daniella watched Michael drive off. She smiled and waved like any good woman would do. And when his car turned the corner and could no longer be seen, Daniella sat heavily on the curb where his car was just parked, put her face in her hands, and cried.
Michael was leaving today. It was odd how Daniella had known this day was coming for weeks but was still surprised. She was there with him when he interviewed and then chose a renter. She helped him box up belongings. Yet, the day had come, the moment was here, and Daniella wasn't prepared. In fact, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or applaud or hide. Logically, she knew this was the opportunity of a lifetime for Michael. He had to take it. He had to go. But it seemed completely insane to her that he would no longer be there everyday.
In the end, Daniella decided to applaud. After all, she loved him. She loved his passion, and respected his need to embrace those things he had passion for. And no matter how he felt for her, she knew she would never be his only passion. More importantly, she didn't want to be. Daniella adored every crook and cranny of this man.
So, here they were. At the moment of departure. Michael's car was packed. The keys had been transferred. Every part of Daniella was aching. Yet while she was unsure of when this ache would end, of how this distance would affect their relationship, of what tomorrow would be like without the love of her life, she knew one thing for sure. Daniella knew that this was the right choice for Michael. That this was his opportunity, his moment to finally shine. So she hugged him. She told him she loved him. She wiped his tears away, kissed his face. She put her hand on his heart. She told him she loved him, opened his car door, and wished him a safe drive. And because she was calm, he was calm. Because she was happy for him, he was at ease to leave.
Daniella watched Michael drive off. She smiled and waved like any good woman would do. And when his car turned the corner and could no longer be seen, Daniella sat heavily on the curb where his car was just parked, put her face in her hands, and cried.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
i wanna know
“I wish that I could take a journey through your mind and find emotions that you always try to hide.”
Archer saw her hiding before she even knew she was. They had been fighting. A vehement argument. The kind that, upon climax, ends in either passionate intimacy or days of silence. As the fight had escalated, Archer was sure this was one that would end passionately. Although he hid it from Lana, his anger had already subsided and he was more than ready to move on to the make-up part of the game.
Then he saw her hide. He was so caught up in the motions of the fight that he truly wasn’t even sure what he had said. Archer thought but he couldn’t find his words, whatever painful chord of truth he had struck in Lana. But he saw her face. The brief moment where the surprise and pain and shame and disappointment shook her, the moment her façade immediately faltered and she was more vulnerable than he had ever seen.
Archer stepped towards her. He wanted nothing more to comfort her, fight or sex be damned. But the moment had passed and now she was hiding. Her face was no longer angry from the fight. And what was most carefully hidden was that flash of vulnerability. It had vanished, and had taken Lana with it. True, she was standing there in front of him. Her face was poised, her stance confident, her voice steady. Too poised, too confident, too steady. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She had retreated to some safe, inner place. A place Archer desperately wanted to touch, to see, to hold and comfort, but a place which he was strictly forbade.
So this fight ended in silence. A silence that Archer knew would end in a few days. But this silence would be different than the ones before. This one came with the unsettling realization for Archer that there was a broken part of Lana. A part that she wasn’t ready to fix, or to even take the first step towards fixing by sharing. A broken part that planted a seed of doubt in Archer about he and Lana’s relationship. And Archer wasn’t sure if he could or should ignore it.
Archer saw her hiding before she even knew she was. They had been fighting. A vehement argument. The kind that, upon climax, ends in either passionate intimacy or days of silence. As the fight had escalated, Archer was sure this was one that would end passionately. Although he hid it from Lana, his anger had already subsided and he was more than ready to move on to the make-up part of the game.
Then he saw her hide. He was so caught up in the motions of the fight that he truly wasn’t even sure what he had said. Archer thought but he couldn’t find his words, whatever painful chord of truth he had struck in Lana. But he saw her face. The brief moment where the surprise and pain and shame and disappointment shook her, the moment her façade immediately faltered and she was more vulnerable than he had ever seen.
Archer stepped towards her. He wanted nothing more to comfort her, fight or sex be damned. But the moment had passed and now she was hiding. Her face was no longer angry from the fight. And what was most carefully hidden was that flash of vulnerability. It had vanished, and had taken Lana with it. True, she was standing there in front of him. Her face was poised, her stance confident, her voice steady. Too poised, too confident, too steady. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She had retreated to some safe, inner place. A place Archer desperately wanted to touch, to see, to hold and comfort, but a place which he was strictly forbade.
So this fight ended in silence. A silence that Archer knew would end in a few days. But this silence would be different than the ones before. This one came with the unsettling realization for Archer that there was a broken part of Lana. A part that she wasn’t ready to fix, or to even take the first step towards fixing by sharing. A broken part that planted a seed of doubt in Archer about he and Lana’s relationship. And Archer wasn’t sure if he could or should ignore it.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
what hurts the most
"But I know if I could do it over, I would trade. Give away all the words that I saved in my heart, that I left unspoken."
Sometimes he felt stupid. Not like that fleeting stupidity that we all experience when we lose our keys or push the wrong button at the vending machine or even when we get to the airport too late to make a flight. Not that. Sometimes he felt really, truly stupid. Yes, sometimes he felt like the people around him, the entire world in fact, had some knowledge that he not only didn't have but didn't even know he was missing.
Today was one of those days. Scott sat on the edge of his bed unsure of what to do next. It had been ten days since Lanie broke up with him. It had taken him those full ten days to realize what must have been so obvious. More than the loneliness, the missing of her smile and hair and all that, there was this uncomfortable churn in his stomach. This disturbing pain reminding him that he had let her walk out the door without ever saying "I love you" or "I care about you". This gnawing truth that he had adored her, the way she took her work so seriously and got all doe-eyed at the sight nearly any four-legged creature and made the best Saturday morning breakfasts, and never had the consideration to tell her.
In fact, Scott was sure that's why she left him. Their final argument had been some nonsense. Some escalating dispute about him forgetting to call. But Scott remembered clearly when he and Lanie first started dating, and she had never been the type to be concerned about that. The times he had forgotten to call when he said he would, she usually wouldn't even be upset. But then some other thing would occur, some moment that Scott could see so clearly now when she had made her feelings for him clear and he had failed to reciprocate. Those times were when the sudden "you never call when you say you will" argument would begin. That final argument had really been no different than the rest except he assumed she was tired of waiting and hoping for something that seemed to never be coming. And so she ended it.
Scott sat there. On that bed that she had shared with him on so many nights. He couldn't imagine that it would make much of a difference to tell her now. To tell her how he cared, how wonderful she was, and how undeserving he had been. But he called anyway and, as expected, the voicemail suddenly kicked in after one ring. After the beep he simply said "Next time I'll do better."
Sometimes he felt stupid. Not like that fleeting stupidity that we all experience when we lose our keys or push the wrong button at the vending machine or even when we get to the airport too late to make a flight. Not that. Sometimes he felt really, truly stupid. Yes, sometimes he felt like the people around him, the entire world in fact, had some knowledge that he not only didn't have but didn't even know he was missing.
Today was one of those days. Scott sat on the edge of his bed unsure of what to do next. It had been ten days since Lanie broke up with him. It had taken him those full ten days to realize what must have been so obvious. More than the loneliness, the missing of her smile and hair and all that, there was this uncomfortable churn in his stomach. This disturbing pain reminding him that he had let her walk out the door without ever saying "I love you" or "I care about you". This gnawing truth that he had adored her, the way she took her work so seriously and got all doe-eyed at the sight nearly any four-legged creature and made the best Saturday morning breakfasts, and never had the consideration to tell her.
In fact, Scott was sure that's why she left him. Their final argument had been some nonsense. Some escalating dispute about him forgetting to call. But Scott remembered clearly when he and Lanie first started dating, and she had never been the type to be concerned about that. The times he had forgotten to call when he said he would, she usually wouldn't even be upset. But then some other thing would occur, some moment that Scott could see so clearly now when she had made her feelings for him clear and he had failed to reciprocate. Those times were when the sudden "you never call when you say you will" argument would begin. That final argument had really been no different than the rest except he assumed she was tired of waiting and hoping for something that seemed to never be coming. And so she ended it.
Scott sat there. On that bed that she had shared with him on so many nights. He couldn't imagine that it would make much of a difference to tell her now. To tell her how he cared, how wonderful she was, and how undeserving he had been. But he called anyway and, as expected, the voicemail suddenly kicked in after one ring. After the beep he simply said "Next time I'll do better."
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
save room
"This just might hurt a little. Love hurts sometimes when you do it right."
Neneh slammed the door behind her. She found the sound satisfying. It was such a loud, shattering sound, such a startling disturbance of the silence that now invaded this tiny apartment. The satisfaction was fleeting though. The wild rush of emotions that had propelled her from the living room, down the hallway, and into the guest bedroom came rushing back.
So Neneh sat there on the floor beside the bed and crying into the sunshine yellow comforter. She knew she should be thinking. Thinking of all the things he did wrong, all the times he made her cry or annoyed her or frustrated her or disappointed her. But she didn't think. She cried out those emotions, tried desperately to cry him out of her system and her soul. But he stayed. Just like she knew he had stayed in the living room, never moving from the chair, waiting for her to return. Knowing that she would return.
So she pulled herself up off the floor. She walked slowly towards the door, crept down the hallway, and peeked into the living room to see him there. There. In that chair. A wave of relief swept through her as she saw the reflection of herself in his face. The same anguish from the fight. The same fear of their intense relationship. The same conflict of frustration and adoration. It took that one moment to forgive him. For the pain to melt away and the desire to be sitting on his lap overtake her.
She walked back into the living room confidently, but with still tear-stained cheeks. Neneh walked straight to him, kissed him. She told him how she felt in that room crying. Alone and overwhelmed. And she told him that she loved him, and that they would do better. He smiled gratefully and agreed.
Neneh slammed the door behind her. She found the sound satisfying. It was such a loud, shattering sound, such a startling disturbance of the silence that now invaded this tiny apartment. The satisfaction was fleeting though. The wild rush of emotions that had propelled her from the living room, down the hallway, and into the guest bedroom came rushing back.
So Neneh sat there on the floor beside the bed and crying into the sunshine yellow comforter. She knew she should be thinking. Thinking of all the things he did wrong, all the times he made her cry or annoyed her or frustrated her or disappointed her. But she didn't think. She cried out those emotions, tried desperately to cry him out of her system and her soul. But he stayed. Just like she knew he had stayed in the living room, never moving from the chair, waiting for her to return. Knowing that she would return.
So she pulled herself up off the floor. She walked slowly towards the door, crept down the hallway, and peeked into the living room to see him there. There. In that chair. A wave of relief swept through her as she saw the reflection of herself in his face. The same anguish from the fight. The same fear of their intense relationship. The same conflict of frustration and adoration. It took that one moment to forgive him. For the pain to melt away and the desire to be sitting on his lap overtake her.
She walked back into the living room confidently, but with still tear-stained cheeks. Neneh walked straight to him, kissed him. She told him how she felt in that room crying. Alone and overwhelmed. And she told him that she loved him, and that they would do better. He smiled gratefully and agreed.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
buttons
"You been saying the right things all night long, but I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off."
He couldn't help but wondering if tonight of all nights was the night he would experience the bittersweet irony of love. Jonah had only gone out to a bar to hang out with his friends, have a couple of beers and talk sports. But he walked in the bar, saw Michelle, and simply could not leave.
And Michelle had talked to him. She smiled coyly, sat leisurely, looked him straight in the eye, and laughed with him. She flirted with him and although he knew it was the drinks influence, Jonah fell for it.
So here they were. How stupidly he had volunteered to take her home. She had clearly sobered up in the car. Her directions had become clearer and clearer during the 20 minute drive and she walked into her apartment with ease. So she was sobered. And she still wanted him.
Michelle sat beside him. She led the conversation into scandalous talk. She put her hand on his knee and pressed her body against his on the couch.
Yet Jonah resisted. He had imagined this situation dozens of time. Except it wasn't some bar fluke that led them to this moment; it was Michelle recognizing Jonah's adoration of her and reciprocating. There was real affection, not a lustful passion. Jonah wanted more than this temporary infatuation. He wanted her to look at him, see him, and still want him.
But the realization came with a rush that Michelle may never feel this way. Or that this could be his opportunity to show his feelings. Either way, this was not a moment he should let slip past. So he didn't.
He couldn't help but wondering if tonight of all nights was the night he would experience the bittersweet irony of love. Jonah had only gone out to a bar to hang out with his friends, have a couple of beers and talk sports. But he walked in the bar, saw Michelle, and simply could not leave.
And Michelle had talked to him. She smiled coyly, sat leisurely, looked him straight in the eye, and laughed with him. She flirted with him and although he knew it was the drinks influence, Jonah fell for it.
So here they were. How stupidly he had volunteered to take her home. She had clearly sobered up in the car. Her directions had become clearer and clearer during the 20 minute drive and she walked into her apartment with ease. So she was sobered. And she still wanted him.
Michelle sat beside him. She led the conversation into scandalous talk. She put her hand on his knee and pressed her body against his on the couch.
Yet Jonah resisted. He had imagined this situation dozens of time. Except it wasn't some bar fluke that led them to this moment; it was Michelle recognizing Jonah's adoration of her and reciprocating. There was real affection, not a lustful passion. Jonah wanted more than this temporary infatuation. He wanted her to look at him, see him, and still want him.
But the realization came with a rush that Michelle may never feel this way. Or that this could be his opportunity to show his feelings. Either way, this was not a moment he should let slip past. So he didn't.
Friday, August 21, 2009
pretty brown eyes
"You keep telling me that your time is always taken. But I keep seeing you out alone."
Jordan always saw Daniella when she walked by. He saw what everyone saw. The long legs. The toned body. The dark hair. The brown eyes. The radiant smile. Her clothes, car, and accessories were all just as seemingly perfect as she was. Everything about her compelled you to look at her.
Jordan often looked at her and wondered. Wondered if women were jealous of her. Wanting her confidence or her boobs or her job. Wondered if men... No, he knew what men were thinking when they looked at her. After all, he often caught himself thinking the same thing.
But Jordan had worked side by side with Daniella for nearly two years. He knew that all was not perfect there. They work at a nonprofit that provides resources to terminally ill people. Jordan had often seen Daniella's strong facade splinter, even if only for a second. He had never seen her go on a date. And never heard her talk about any member of her family except a younger sister in college.
Yes, Jordan looked at Daniella and thought about all the things people saw. All the ways that made her perfect. He thought about all the things he saw. Her sacrifice, dedication, hope. All the things that made her beautiful.
But mostly he wondered what did she see when she looked in the mirror. And when would she stop for just a moment, just long enough to really look at herself and her life. Look to see how lonely she truly is.
Jordan always saw Daniella when she walked by. He saw what everyone saw. The long legs. The toned body. The dark hair. The brown eyes. The radiant smile. Her clothes, car, and accessories were all just as seemingly perfect as she was. Everything about her compelled you to look at her.
Jordan often looked at her and wondered. Wondered if women were jealous of her. Wanting her confidence or her boobs or her job. Wondered if men... No, he knew what men were thinking when they looked at her. After all, he often caught himself thinking the same thing.
But Jordan had worked side by side with Daniella for nearly two years. He knew that all was not perfect there. They work at a nonprofit that provides resources to terminally ill people. Jordan had often seen Daniella's strong facade splinter, even if only for a second. He had never seen her go on a date. And never heard her talk about any member of her family except a younger sister in college.
Yes, Jordan looked at Daniella and thought about all the things people saw. All the ways that made her perfect. He thought about all the things he saw. Her sacrifice, dedication, hope. All the things that made her beautiful.
But mostly he wondered what did she see when she looked in the mirror. And when would she stop for just a moment, just long enough to really look at herself and her life. Look to see how lonely she truly is.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
push
"She said, 'I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me.'"
It was amazing that she stood there. That she existed the way she did, in that very moment, with that mind and that hair and those hands.
She stood there against that barbed wire fence and bore her soul. From those doe eyes and well-formed lips, she gave a story of tears. The men that forgot her, the women that ignored her. The way she had lived her whole life and couldn't imagine love.
This from the woman that must have been born to bring passion. From the person God seemed to have granted every gift.
I wanted to touch her. So that maybe she would feel. Wanted to hold her hand tightly, so that she could understand. I wanted her. And there was nothing greater I could imagine, nothing more I could want.
But I was young. So I just listened and wondered how she could not know.
It was amazing that she stood there. That she existed the way she did, in that very moment, with that mind and that hair and those hands.
She stood there against that barbed wire fence and bore her soul. From those doe eyes and well-formed lips, she gave a story of tears. The men that forgot her, the women that ignored her. The way she had lived her whole life and couldn't imagine love.
This from the woman that must have been born to bring passion. From the person God seemed to have granted every gift.
I wanted to touch her. So that maybe she would feel. Wanted to hold her hand tightly, so that she could understand. I wanted her. And there was nothing greater I could imagine, nothing more I could want.
But I was young. So I just listened and wondered how she could not know.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
collide
"I'm worried I won't see your face light up again."
What if today was the last day I made you smile?
Things change so quickly. Today could b e the last day you loved me. We're so fickle these days, myself included. Tomorrow you could wake up to find my laughter annoying, my quirks less endearing, my thoughts no longer memorable.
We all like the new and shiny. The unknown becomes more exciting than terrifying. And as crazy as it sounds, it becomes safer.
There is a constant fear of exposure. Of putting yourself out there with all your beauty and ugly. Leaving your soul open to rejection. Putting everything you have into one person.
Sometimes fear of commitment is really more about the fear that one day the person laying beside you will wake up, look at you, and no longer see your shine.
What if today was the last day I made you smile?
Things change so quickly. Today could b e the last day you loved me. We're so fickle these days, myself included. Tomorrow you could wake up to find my laughter annoying, my quirks less endearing, my thoughts no longer memorable.
We all like the new and shiny. The unknown becomes more exciting than terrifying. And as crazy as it sounds, it becomes safer.
There is a constant fear of exposure. Of putting yourself out there with all your beauty and ugly. Leaving your soul open to rejection. Putting everything you have into one person.
Sometimes fear of commitment is really more about the fear that one day the person laying beside you will wake up, look at you, and no longer see your shine.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
love makes things happen
"Love appears at the worst..."
Rondell met Alexis when he was 42 years old. They literally ran into each other in a bookstore. He fell in love with her before he even looked at her face. The books she had were some of his favorites. He looked up with intrigue and found himself staring into an exquisite face.
They sat and talked for an hour. They exchanged emails and soon were chatting on the internet daily. His conversations with Alexis became the thing he looked forward to each day. At 42, Rondell finally understood what a soulmate was.
"...and even the best of times."
Rondell met Jeanie when he was 24 years old. She was beautiful, smart, quirky, and ambitious. They dated for two years and everything seemed so ideal. They had the similar dreams of the future. They both wanted so many of the same things. Jeanie got along great with his family. He truly cared for and loved her. So they got married, bought a house, had a family, and settled down for a long life together.
That is, until Rondell was 42...
Rondell met Alexis when he was 42 years old. They literally ran into each other in a bookstore. He fell in love with her before he even looked at her face. The books she had were some of his favorites. He looked up with intrigue and found himself staring into an exquisite face.
They sat and talked for an hour. They exchanged emails and soon were chatting on the internet daily. His conversations with Alexis became the thing he looked forward to each day. At 42, Rondell finally understood what a soulmate was.
"...and even the best of times."
Rondell met Jeanie when he was 24 years old. She was beautiful, smart, quirky, and ambitious. They dated for two years and everything seemed so ideal. They had the similar dreams of the future. They both wanted so many of the same things. Jeanie got along great with his family. He truly cared for and loved her. So they got married, bought a house, had a family, and settled down for a long life together.
That is, until Rondell was 42...
Friday, June 5, 2009
a new day has come
"The world thought I had it all. But I was waiting for you."
One day she found him. It was like she turned a corner and he was there. It took only one moment, one look for Nia to know. The person she'd been waiting her whole life to love.
A boy. With long eyelashes covering his dark eyes. With an infectious laugh. With a wobbly gait. A boy. Two years old and already the person of her dreams.
Nia had dreamed of kids. She was a successful entrepreneur. She owned her own home. She drove an expensive car. There were men falling at her feet. And she was happy but lonely.
Then she met Eric. She saw him one day when she was volunteering at the local humane shelter. A group of kids from a nearby orphanage had a "field trip" there. And she fell in love.
A two year old boy had brought a purpose to her life she had never felt.
One day she found him. It was like she turned a corner and he was there. It took only one moment, one look for Nia to know. The person she'd been waiting her whole life to love.
A boy. With long eyelashes covering his dark eyes. With an infectious laugh. With a wobbly gait. A boy. Two years old and already the person of her dreams.
Nia had dreamed of kids. She was a successful entrepreneur. She owned her own home. She drove an expensive car. There were men falling at her feet. And she was happy but lonely.
Then she met Eric. She saw him one day when she was volunteering at the local humane shelter. A group of kids from a nearby orphanage had a "field trip" there. And she fell in love.
A two year old boy had brought a purpose to her life she had never felt.
Monday, June 1, 2009
with you
"When I'm with you I wonder why people do stop and stare and smile at us."
Miranda would come to the park everyday to watch other people's lives. She sat on a little bench near the water fountain with the guise of reading a book. But really she watched.
She saw lovers' spats, kids playing carefree, lonely folks feeding the ducks, and motivated joggers. But every once in a while, she would see love.
Miranda would see a couple walk by, oozing love from head to toe. It wasn't really about whether they were holding hands or kissing or staring into each others eyes. They would be connected. They were content.
The couples would walk by, talking about the weather or work. But their faces said so much more. A passion that was almost blinding. Caring that would make a bystander blush. And butterflies that were inexplicably contagious.
Yes, Miranda sat on that bench and waited for love to walk by. She watched because she had never been in love, but wanted to be sure she could recognize it when it came.
Miranda would come to the park everyday to watch other people's lives. She sat on a little bench near the water fountain with the guise of reading a book. But really she watched.
She saw lovers' spats, kids playing carefree, lonely folks feeding the ducks, and motivated joggers. But every once in a while, she would see love.
Miranda would see a couple walk by, oozing love from head to toe. It wasn't really about whether they were holding hands or kissing or staring into each others eyes. They would be connected. They were content.
The couples would walk by, talking about the weather or work. But their faces said so much more. A passion that was almost blinding. Caring that would make a bystander blush. And butterflies that were inexplicably contagious.
Yes, Miranda sat on that bench and waited for love to walk by. She watched because she had never been in love, but wanted to be sure she could recognize it when it came.
Friday, May 15, 2009
cherish
"Cherish is the word I use to describe our love."
The people we love define us. Its as simple as that.
Our lives are shaped by the people we care about. The friends we talk to everyday about our love life, our bosses, the weather. The people who we depend on to brighten our days. The ones we sacrifice for to make sure they are okay. The people we love bring an priority and comfort.
Our character is built by the way we love. Love is about sacrifice. It is about adoration, kindness, honesty, loyalty, and compromise. Love strengthens us, makes able and willing to endure. And love humbles us. It makes us realize that this world is about more than we could ever fathom.
But love can be fleeting. The people we love can be gone quickly. Our capacity is constantly tested. And disappointment lingers everywhere. It is vital to express the love we feel, regardless of the return. Such expression elevates the soul and frees the spirit.
So tell your friends how important they are to you. Hug your family. Kiss your lover. Cherish them.
The people we love define us. Its as simple as that.
Our lives are shaped by the people we care about. The friends we talk to everyday about our love life, our bosses, the weather. The people who we depend on to brighten our days. The ones we sacrifice for to make sure they are okay. The people we love bring an priority and comfort.
Our character is built by the way we love. Love is about sacrifice. It is about adoration, kindness, honesty, loyalty, and compromise. Love strengthens us, makes able and willing to endure. And love humbles us. It makes us realize that this world is about more than we could ever fathom.
But love can be fleeting. The people we love can be gone quickly. Our capacity is constantly tested. And disappointment lingers everywhere. It is vital to express the love we feel, regardless of the return. Such expression elevates the soul and frees the spirit.
So tell your friends how important they are to you. Hug your family. Kiss your lover. Cherish them.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
beautiful soul
"I don't want another pretty face."
A palette for make-up
A disguise we wear
The proof that we are human
But it is just a surface
A painted on exterior
An uncontrolled part of existence
"I don't want just anyone to hold."
We are all warm
We all have arms to hold with
Legs to walk with
And a flavored reaction to arousal
We can hug and kiss back
"I don't want my love to go to waste."
The face and the body are shells
Inside there is an essence
A brain, a heart, a soul
The part that connects and attracts
A thing which inspires passion, kindness, fear, respect, adoration, and love
Something aching for its mate
A palette for make-up
A disguise we wear
The proof that we are human
But it is just a surface
A painted on exterior
An uncontrolled part of existence
"I don't want just anyone to hold."
We are all warm
We all have arms to hold with
Legs to walk with
And a flavored reaction to arousal
We can hug and kiss back
"I don't want my love to go to waste."
The face and the body are shells
Inside there is an essence
A brain, a heart, a soul
The part that connects and attracts
A thing which inspires passion, kindness, fear, respect, adoration, and love
Something aching for its mate
Thursday, April 9, 2009
reflections (care enough)
"If I'm not good enough or somehow undeserving of a mother's love, you could have had the decency to give me up before you gave me life."
I'd known Nye for seven months and never met her mom. We lived up the block from each other, and walked to school together in the morning. Nye often came to my house after school as well. We watched movies, played video games, etc. But I had never stepped foot inside her house.
I thought this was odd, and when my opportunity came to insist we go in her house I too it. It was near the end of the school year and the weather was finally warm enough for kids to head to the pool. A lot of kids from our classes were going, so I insisted that Nye and I go as well.
I told her we could just drop by her house to pick up her swimsuit, then change at my place. She reluctantly agreed.
So there I was. Inside Nye's house. Once we got there, it appeared Nye's mom wasn't home. She decided to take a quick shower to shave her legs before we left. I sat in the living room while waiting.
About three minutes after Nye got in the shower, her mother came in the front door. I stood up to greet her but once I said I was Nye's friend she became disinterested. She asked if I had seen Kyle, Nye's younger brother. And then moved on after I said no.
About five minutes later, I heard Nye and her mother talking from the upstairs hallway. The disdain in her mother's voice was hard to miss, even without seeing her face. As Nye attempted to explain that we were going to the pool, her mother quickly cut her off and said she didn't care. She told Nye she didn't care if she jumped off a bridge. She just wanted to know where Kyle was.
As Nye came down the stairs, I did my best to pretend that I hadn't heard the discussion upstairs. But Nye was visibly shaken. So as we walked to my house, I tried to cheer her with funny stories from homeroom. By the time we got to the pool, Nye was in much better spirits.
That night I talked to my mom about what happened at Nye's house. It completely baffled me that a mother wouldn't care about her child. But Mom knew Nye's mother well. She had Nye her senior year of high school. Nye's father left her five months after she was born. She resented Nye for taking away her senior year and she blamed Nye for her father leaving.
I'd known Nye for seven months and never met her mom. We lived up the block from each other, and walked to school together in the morning. Nye often came to my house after school as well. We watched movies, played video games, etc. But I had never stepped foot inside her house.
I thought this was odd, and when my opportunity came to insist we go in her house I too it. It was near the end of the school year and the weather was finally warm enough for kids to head to the pool. A lot of kids from our classes were going, so I insisted that Nye and I go as well.
I told her we could just drop by her house to pick up her swimsuit, then change at my place. She reluctantly agreed.
So there I was. Inside Nye's house. Once we got there, it appeared Nye's mom wasn't home. She decided to take a quick shower to shave her legs before we left. I sat in the living room while waiting.
About three minutes after Nye got in the shower, her mother came in the front door. I stood up to greet her but once I said I was Nye's friend she became disinterested. She asked if I had seen Kyle, Nye's younger brother. And then moved on after I said no.
About five minutes later, I heard Nye and her mother talking from the upstairs hallway. The disdain in her mother's voice was hard to miss, even without seeing her face. As Nye attempted to explain that we were going to the pool, her mother quickly cut her off and said she didn't care. She told Nye she didn't care if she jumped off a bridge. She just wanted to know where Kyle was.
As Nye came down the stairs, I did my best to pretend that I hadn't heard the discussion upstairs. But Nye was visibly shaken. So as we walked to my house, I tried to cheer her with funny stories from homeroom. By the time we got to the pool, Nye was in much better spirits.
That night I talked to my mom about what happened at Nye's house. It completely baffled me that a mother wouldn't care about her child. But Mom knew Nye's mother well. She had Nye her senior year of high school. Nye's father left her five months after she was born. She resented Nye for taking away her senior year and she blamed Nye for her father leaving.
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