The First Noel

"The first Noel, the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay."

Jeremiah rubbed his eyes sleepily, unsure of what had awakened him. He glanced over at his father's sheep grazing nearby. They seemed fine. But he heard a murmur coming from behind him. He turned, then shielded his eyes from the sun to see three older shepherds pointing frantically.

Then the absurdity of what he was doing struck him. Shielding his eyes from the sun. Jeremiah had seen the sun set before he nodded off. He turned frantically towards the light he had been blocking. It wasn't harsh or blinding. It was a beautiful, brilliant star.

Now Jeremiah had spent his life it seemed in this fields. Dozing through the evening while the sheep grazed, before heading home. He had seen bright full moons and star-filled nights. But he had never seen anything like this. He had never seen a star so bright. A star that seemed so close. A star that seemed to call to his soul and beckon him to come to it.

He sat with the other shepherds that night and watched that star. The sheep were calm, more peaceful than usual. He and the shepherds watched others walk by, men answering the call of the star and intent to find its origin. Jeremiah knew like these men new that something spectacular was occurring. And he hoped that the feelings of hope and awe and humility and camaraderie would never leave.

have yourself a merry little christmas

"Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow. But 'til then we'll have to muddle through somehow."

Rose wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in the car. It had probably been a while, judging the amount of snow that had accumulated on the windshield. It was that obstruction to her view that finally drew her out of her daze. Here she was. Home for Christmas for the first time in four years.

And amazingly the house looked the same. Too many lights outside. The same single reindeer lit up in the front yard. A tall tree showcased through the front windows. A big wreath with a bright red bow on the front door. The same as the last time she was here. The same as every Christmas she could remember. The sight of it had been so overwhelming that she had paused after parking her car to take it all in.

Rose could imagine her mother and big sisters in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Her brothers watching football. Her dad pretending to help out by cleaning up, but really just watching football. But she knew it wouldn't really be the same. Her eldest sister Lily was married now, and had a two-year old son. Her other sister Violet had just been laid off. Her big brother Jeremy was engaged and her little brother James was a junior in college. She had missed their lives, and they wouldn't be the same as this house. There were new faces in there, new dynamics she wasn't a part of.

Rose stared in disbelief. How could she have been so stupid, so wrong for four years. All those times that she had volunteered to work Christmas at the hospital so that the people with families could go home. She had sacrificed for colleagues' families but never for her own. Rose became even more ashamed thinking of how her attendee had practically forced her to go home.

Here she was. Home for Christmas for the first time in four years. She was joyful. She was in need of the break. She longed to reconnect with her family. And she was afraid of the unknowns that waited inside. But mostly she was tired of being lonely and was ready to get out of that car.

12 Days of Christmas

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..."

Love. When you ask most people, its what the season is about. An inspiring, joyful love that swells the heart, warms the spirit, and soothes the soul. A love that is endless. And a real love, not an effortless adoration or a fleeting obsession. A lasting, arduous relationship. A relationship that is challenged by its very intensity. That is as full of trials as it is triumph. But the kind of love you can't imagine your life without. The love that radiates from the laughter of children, the doting eyes of a parent, the touch of a lover's hand. The love that swept this world with such amazing grace.

Giving. Its what the season has come to be. Its what we expect of others. And I am the first to admit that giving is a large part of Christmas. But its not about giving expensive gifts. Its about the gift of self. Taking the time to think of the people you love. Sacrificing the money and energy you would have spent on yourself to brighten someone else's day. Taking the time to send a card to a long-lost friend, to lovingly wrap a gift, or to make a grand meal.

Today starts the twelve days of Christmas. Twelve days which I will reflect on what Christmas is, what I want it to be, what it should be. I hope you do the same.

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."

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.

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.

turn the page

"I never had a love that I loved so much."

Annie was seventeen years old and had been in love at least six times. Her friends didn't find it amazing anymore. Her parents actually found it amusing. After all, Annie was a good kid. She kept her grades up, stayed out of trouble, and did her chores. What more could parents want?

So let's see.. There were Mike and Jay her freshmen year. Both were upperclassmen, both ended up being scumbags, and the "love" for both lasted about three months each. Sophomore year the "love" was even briefer, lasting only a few weeks for Thad, Danny, and Henry. Junior year was a bit more deceptive. Annie and Aaron were together for six months before everything fell apart. So of course no one was surprised or particularly interested when Annie came home from her first day as a senior and was head over heels for a boy named Sean.

Annie met Sean outside her trigonometry class. There outside the most dreaded classroom on campus stood the most amazing boy. The two had chatted and when class ended, Sean was outside that door waiting to talk some more. Annie's friends rolled their eyes, nudged each other, and murmured non-discreetly: Annie had found her new "love" for the school year. They wagered if this one would last as long as Aaron.

But Annie was absorbed in something else. Sean. Not his popularity, his car, his athletic abilities, his smile or eyes, his style, or his wide group of friends. It was him. The way she had to fight back the urge to hold his hand as they walked side by side. The way his voice made every organ in her body do cartwheels. The illogical and inexplicable safety she felt in his presence, as though she were shielded from all harm and free to share her deepest secrets. This breathtaking awe that surrounded every movement he made.

Suddenly all the trivial conversations about movies and grades and teachers and parents and video games and celeb gossip seemed ridiculous. Inconsequential and an utter waste of time. Annie wanted to talk about her dreams and wanted him to encourage her. She wanted to share her fears and wanted him to help her conquer them. She wanted desperately to share her soul with this complete stranger because some part of her just knew that to do so would complete her. Would fill that empty spot in her life that she suddenly realized was loneliness.

The only real question was if he loved her too.

control

"When you get the chance just take control."

Jerome had run this same path home everyday for the past two years. He felt that it was stupid to run, a bit too stereotypical even for his stereotypical neighborhood. But illogical fear outweighed his desire to be reasonable and objective. So he ran home. Some days it was more of a jog. Days when his fear was mixed with enough courage to want to take a look around. And the days when his body was too tired or sick to really run.

Today Jerome ran home. And to anyone who had been witness to his daily routine would likely not have seen the difference. But today there was a difference. Jerome ran home carried by excitement. He could barely feel his feet pounding the pavement. He was too busy thinking. His brain steadily accepting and molding the idea that had manifested in third period geometry. Jerome had sat quietly at lunch, processing his idea but maintaining his excitement. But now his jubilance propelled him homewards as his mind thought through the last vestiges of his idea. No longer an idea really, more like a plan.

A plan that had begun with three little words from his geometry teacher and a trifold pamphlet scattered with pictures of happy white kids. Summer Math Camp. Although Jerome was not white and rarely happy, he saw that pamphlet and knew instantly he had to be at this camp. The tuition was more than his parents made in two months, but strangely even to him that was not a deterrent.

So Jerome had spent his day thinking and plotting and talking to math teachers, his guidance counselor and even the assistant principal. Now he would spend his night talking to his parents. He had his plan, his logic was as flawless as possible, and he had no doubt he could convince them to let him go.

Jerome had been waiting for something to give him an edge. To provide him with more opportunity than he had been born into. Here was one small chance and he was determined to take it. This camp was within his grasp. In fact, he felt like it was practically placed on a platter and served to him. He wanted this chance and he was going to take it. After all this was his life. And he was the only person who could grab a hold of it steer it in the direction he wanted it to go.

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.

this house

"We've got to take the time to search the mind to find..."

Noelle had searched the entire classroom for that box. She had only been teaching this class for three weeks and she was overwhelmed. More importantly, she was out of fresh ideas. Today had been shoe box day. Everyone had to bring in their favorite shoebox and she brought in a bunch of plain ones. The kids had to paint the plain ones to match the ones they brought.

Of course only a few the students had gotten remotely close. After all they were only in the first grade. And art was a mandatory class. Of course there were kids who didn't bring boxes so she had grabbed some of her shoe boxes from the closet and brought them in. Noelle had grabbed three boxes from her personal collection. And she knew the three students that would be without. Andy, Jolie, and Mark.

But now her shoebox was missing. Noelle sat down defeated at her oversized desk. She wondered if one of the kids had taken it home or whether they had simply trashed it because it meant nothing to them. To Noelle it was the sacred home to her most prized pair of shoes. The golden, strappy Jimmy Choos. She nearly teared imagining her treasured shoes sitting unprotected on her closet floor.

Just then a parent appeared at her door. At least she thought it was a parent. This woman looked more tired and overworked than the parents she was used to in this private school. The woman identified herself as Andy's mother and handed her the missing shoebox. The mother apologized and left abruptly.

Noelle took her returned box home triumphantly. During the night she became more and more restless as to why Andy took her shoebox. Despite never having his materials for class, he was an attentive, respectful, and bright kid. The next day, Noelle called Andy into her class during the recess and asked him about his actions.

Andy explained bashfully. His mother was a waitress and wore the same shoes everyday. She always complained about those shoes. She had said they were an eyesore. Andy reasoned that since Noelle had so many shoe boxes she wouldn't miss one, so he took the box he thought was the fanciest home to his mother. Then maybe she would like her shoes more too.

Andy returned to recess and Noelle sat her desk too stunned to even tear up. She thought bitterly about the way she coveted that stupid shoebox for shoes she wore maybe twice a year. It all seemed so stupid now. Here little Andy had used twice as much knowledge and ten times as much kindness than her.

Noelle had Andy stay after the next day. She wanted to send the real box but it occurred to her that Andy's mother might take offense. So the two created a replica. As Noelle sent Andy home grinning ear to ear, she wondered what else she had been missing in these children. She had been so focused on herself, her lesson plans, her parent-teacher conferences. She realized she had barely scratched the surface of what these kids were capable of.

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.

girls, girls, girls

"An appetite for destruction but I scrape the plate."

I am James. And I know what you're wondering. Why is this sweet, humble, handsome, intelligent man standing outside this apartment building surrounded by overpriced clothes. Well, those are my clothes. And that building is where I evidently don't live anymore.

No this isn't the story of an eviction victim. This is the story of a man and more than one woman. (Which of course means I automatically lose.)

First there was Jessie. A yoga instructor that loves rock music and hockey. Definitely a keeper. So I kept her for three years. We had this great laid back relationship. She trusted me and I did whatever I want.

Make that whoever I want. Amy the perky co-ed. Leigh the budding writer. Nora the tattoo artist. And the latest lady, the cause of my inevitable downfall, Madison the tourist. Yes, she was only in town for the weekend and I would have never suspected that she would be the one. The one to walk into Jessie's studio and gush about the night with the sexy local named James.

Hold your horses. I can feel the judgment, and I don't appreciate it. I love Jessie. I have pretty much since the moment I saw her. I love her in that corny watch her sleep way. But... well... its just against my nature to be so monogamous. And who am I to fight nature.

I'll think about doing better next time, but I won't make any promises.

dreaming with a broken heart

"Was she really here?"

She left this smell. Something floral, probably from her lotion. It clung to the pillows. That smell that used to be annoying. That he used to hassle her about. Now he hung tightly to the pillows. He found himself searching the couch, the closet, the bathroom, hoping that a trace of the smell still existed.

But he always found solace in the pillows. He would lay down in the bed. On his side. He would curl up next to one of the pillows, close his eyes, and see her. Curled up on the bed with a magazine. Putting on make-up in the mirror. Changing her clothes seven times before picking an outfit. And then changing again.

And he would open his eyes sometimes fully expecting to see her right where he had imagined. Her, in her long-legged, flashy smile glory. But she would be gone. And all that was left was the lingering smell on her pillow.

"Is she standing in my room?"

i would die 4 u

"All I really need is to know that you believe."

Jacob walked home from work. If you had passed by him, maybe you would have found him rude for meandering down the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe you would have found him odd for wearing his trench coat on a dry June day. The truth was Jacob barely knew that he was walking and where he was headed. He just walked in a daze, fortunately towards home.

He didn't snap out of his daze until the box he was carrying slipped from his loose grip and landed with a thud on the sidewalk. As he stooped to pick up the box, he saw a man on a bench beside the bus stop staring at him. The man offered Jacob a seat beside him on the bench which Jacob gladly accepted.

Without much prompting, Jacob somberly relayed the details of his day to the stranger. He had been laid off today from the company he had spent the past decade working for. He had started ( the company when it was still a fledgling local business. Now it was a global corporation, and he was expendable.

The stranger had listened patiently and sympathetically, but now rose and stood in front of Jacob. He said nothing about Jacob's day, but simply asked if Jacob knew how to change a tire. Despite his confusion at this strange response, Jacob said yes and followed the stranger towards a car parked a few blocks away.

As Jacob came closer, he realized the car was really a limo. He looked at the stranger fully for the first time and realized by his uniform that he must be a driver. And that the man had a splint on his right index finger, which evidently had prevented him from changing the tire himself.

Jacob worked quickly and had the tire changed in less than 20 minutes. As the stranger thanked Jacob, the rear left door slowly opened. The driver quickly introduced Jacob to his boss and explained how Jacob had just volunteered to help as he walked by. The boss was grateful, and offered Jacob a ride to his house. Exhausted by emotion and the tire change, Jacob gratefully accepted the ride.

In that ten minute trip, the two had quite a conversation about business. The boss was thoroughly impressed at Jacob's knowledge of marketing, public relations, and the dynamics of starting a business. The boss gave him a business card and insisted that Jacob come by his office the next day.

Jacob got out of the car at his house, again thanked the driver and boss for the ride, and turned to walk up the driveway. He paused to look down at the business card. His hands went numb and his jaw dropped open. He was again drawn back to reality by the sound of the box hitting the pavement. He left the box there and sat down beside it. The card belonged to Nathan Barkley, the CEO of a Fortune 100 corporation.

home

"I don't regret this life chose for me. But these places and these faces are getting old."

The last three months had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Anderson was convinced his recent success was based more on luck than actual talent. But he was dedicated to earning the generous promotion the magazine had given him.

Six months ago, Anderson was a photography intern at the nation's top geographic magazine. He traveled to China with his supervisor, and had quietly taken pictures of China's most beautiful landscapes at sunrise. He was shocked when the magazine chose to publish his photos over the supervisor. And even more surprised when he was promoted to staff photographer four weeks ago.

Anderson was traveling the world. He photographed fields of green. Snow-capped mountains. Majestic forests. Endless deserts. It was really quite a ride. A constant vacation.

But Anderson had become nostalgic. He missed the summer fun of baseball and bbqs. He missed driving, grabbing a movie or lunch with friends. It was almost funny because he had heard the staff talk about these same things that he was feeling. The nostalgia, the loneliness. And it had always seemed utterly bizarre to him. How could anyone not enjoy such a free and grand lifestyle.

Yet here he was, longing for a vacation from sunny beaches, gentle ski slopes, and natural wonders.

starts with goodbye

"Getting there means leaving things behind. Sometimes life's so bittersweet."

She paused at the door. Although she wanted to, she didn't look back. In the back of her mind was the inane fear of a pillar of salt. So she opened that door and stepped out. When the door shut behind her, Mandy felt a panic rise in her. This horrific feeling that she was never coming back here. Which was just absurd. Of course she would be back for holidays, birthdays, and the like.

But Mandy couldn't fight the anxiety, and as much as she wanted to she couldn't really ignore it either. She made it to the car before the tears started coming. She brushed them aside fervently, backed out of the driveway, and began the four hour drive to New York City.

Her moment had come. An offer in a movie after four years of stupid commercials and low-paying plays. The joy of this new opportunity was strong and enough to keep her driving. But the loneliness set in immediately after leaving her childhood home. She was afraid the feeling would never really go away.

superwoman

"I'm not the kind of girl that you can let down and think that everything is okay."

Jeremy walked in the door of his apartment and immediately knew something was off. Random items were missing from the living room. A lamp, the ottoman, the dvd player. At first he thought they had been robbed. As he reached towards the telephone to call the police, he had a second, more cutting realization. The things that were missing were all Lisa's things.

He rushed into the bedroom and sure enough all her clothing, shoes, and jewelry were gone. He checked every drawer and every corner of the closet. She had even cleared out her clothes from the laundry basket. Lisa was gone. After three years, she was gone just like that.

Jeremy sat down heavily on the couch. He wanted to call her, to demand for her to come home. Or maybe to beg for her to return. Maybe both. But he knew Lisa well. Before he could call he needed to figure out what caused her to leave.

So he thought but nothing came to mind. After all things had been fine when he left three days ago for his cousin's wedding in Toronto. Lisa had wanted to come but couldn't get off work. So Jeremy was gone for three days. Three days without coincidence.

Days went by. Jeremy called Lisa and left numerous voice messages in vain. She never called back. Jeremy was reluctant to replace any of the items Lisa had left with under the increasingly unlikely hope that she would return.

About three weeks after Lisa left, Jeremy ran into his friend Phillip at the store. And Phillip asked two questions that cleared everything up. He wanted to know what Jeremy had gotten Lisa for her birthday and why he wasn't at the birthday party Lisa had planned three months in advance.

one step at a time

"Its like learning to fly or falling in love: its gonna hapen when its supposed to happen."

There was no sense of urgency in their movement. Thomas had watched these two girls grow up and had always waited for them to ask for his help. Every girl needs their daddy's help, right. He had been there to feed them, tie their shoelaces, teach them to drive. The list went on.

But today he had asked if they needed his help and they said no. It was the hardest day of their life and they were about to stand alone. Without him or his help. To be honest, Thomas was at a loss. He had counted on them to distract him from the day. And they had, but in a most discomforting way.

It was their moment. Meghan and Taylor stood up, walked to the front of the church, and began to speak. But to Thomas' surprise, they didn't talk about their Mom. They didn't give some expected speech about how great their mom was, how much they loved her, how much they would miss her.

Taylor talked about the woman her mom was. The way she took pride in her work, whether it was a report for her boss or a homemade dinner for her family. And her kindness. She smiled at strangers, gave to needy. And her strength. Life was hard but her mom had never complained, and was always grateful for the good as well as the bad.

Meghan talked about the way she loved. The energy she put into her family. How important it was for the people she loved to be happy. The compassion that poured out of her almost unwillingly.

The two girls came back and sat down by Thomas. They sat on either side and held his hands. Thomas cried. He cried for the wife he lost. He cried at the moving eulogy his daughters had just given. And he also cried to see his daughters stand alone. To see them so strong and capable.

It was a bittersweet realization that his girls were grown now. That although they may still want him to be there, to kiss their boo-boos and say everything would be okay, to help them navigate through the lessons of life, the girls didn't need him. He had gave them all they needed to fly.

will you be there?

"In our darkest hour, in my deepest despair, will you still care? Will you be there? In my trials and my tribulations. Through our doubts and frustrations. In my violence. In my turbulence. Through my fear and my confessions. In my anguish and my pain. Through my joy and my sorrow. In the promise of another tomorrow. I’ll never let you part for you’re always in my heart."


R.I.P. to the King of Pop

Your contribution to the evolution of pop music and what it means to be an entertainer will never be forgotten. You were a pioneer, and you were the breakthrough that allowed hundreds of other black musicians to have a wider audience and more acceptance. You cannot be forgotten because we see you in every Usher, Chris Brown, Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, Ciara, and on and on. We see you in Janet.

No matter the controversy, the eccentricities, we know how amazing and important you are and we will miss you.

again

"Sneaking fruit from the forbidden tree. Sweet taste of sin."

They would often meet at the airport. Marlin had found it was the perfect place. Filled with people too preoccupied, bored, or uninterested to pay attention. Even the big brother security could care less about two people holding hands. Their quest was for terrorists and nuisances.

Marlin would call her when he was tired of his life. When he felt trapped by the long hours at work, the sprawling acre of land his house sat on, his family. He called with the flight details.

He never asked about her life. Marlin did find it slightly odd that she could just drop everything to run away with him for a few days. She would arrive from Phoenix, he would come from L.A. Marlin always scheduled his flight to arrive first so he could be waiting on her. And they would leave the airport hand in hand.

But Marlin found the getaways harder to accomplish. He had to skim money off the top of his check and open a separate account in order to pay for the trips without his wife getting suspicious. He disguised the affair as business trips, but the ironic reality was that his productivity at work was dropping.

All things must come to a head. He was put on probation at work for failing to complete the required hours of work. His wife had found a bank statement in the mail for his separate account. There Marlin stood with a job in limbo and an angry, inquisitive wife. He had never felt more trapped.

So he called her, packed a large suitcase, and flew to Phoenix. He never came back again.

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.

hold on

"You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness."

Marcie woke up with a grunt. She could never sleep past seven am without the neighbor's carpool honking to wake her up. Today was no different. She sat up reluctantly, looked over at Glenn resentfully, and stumbled out of bed. Somehow Glenn always slept through the stupid carpool. He conveniently slept until after she had gone outside to get the paper and the coffee was fully brewed.

Marcie's disdain for the day continued as she edged through traffic only to arrive at work more disgusted than when she got in the car. Her mood today was sullen. She skulked around the office, barking at her secretary, mumbling at her supervisor, and half-heartedly finishing the marketing reports for tomorrow.

About thirty minutes before time to clock out, Marcie's secretary came into her office and gave a two weeks notice. The girl's name was Darelle. She was barely twenty-five years old. Marcie's curiosity peaked and she had Darelle sit down to explain.

Darelle briefly looked surprised, then took a seat directly across from Marcie. Over the next twenty minutes, Darelle explained that this secretary job was just to bring in some money. Her real passion had always been painting, and she had worked hard to make a name for herself in the local galleries. It had finally paid off. For the last six months her paintings had been in high demand. So she was leaving to take on her passion full time.

Darelle left Marcie in her office thinking about passion. It almost seemed like a foreign word. Or like a dirty word. Passion. Marcie didn't think that passion had a place in her life. Mortgages, grocery shopping, oil changes, meetings, electric bills, traffic. That was her life. A husband whose face she rarely saw peek out from behind the newspaper.

Passion. Marcie wasn't even sure the last time she felt it. But she knew that it had been there at one point. The relish of creating innovative and effective marketing strategies. The comfort in settling down into a house. The lust and love for her husband that brought them together every night. Those things were a decade past. They had no place in her life now.

Yet still she was envious of Darelle. Of her passion.

torn

"I thought I saw a man come to life."

In some ways it ended before it began. Or maybe it ended just as it began. Beth wasn't really mad, more like disappointed. Simon held so much promise.

She met him six months ago. Standing in a grocery line with a half-gallon of milk, a jar of peanut butter, and two microwaveable burritos. He just looked like some typical single guy. But as Beth was collecting her bagged groceries, she glimpsed something more. Simon had a conversation with the young checkout girl in Spanish. Not to show off, but to put the girl at ease because she had struggled recklessly and the customers were growing impatient.

Beth, in her usual brazen manner, walked up to Simon and gave him her number. Thus, the six months began. From the outside, the relationship probably looked perfect. Full of trendy restaurants, thoughtful movies, and the "must-attend" events in town.

But really Beth had made the fatal error. She liked the potential in Simon, not the guy he was right now. She saw his ambition, intelligence, kindness, and knew what he could become. And she was probably right. One day Simon would be the CEO of some Fortune 500 company. Or a member of the U.S. Senate. Or a famous novelist. Anything he wanted to be.

But he wasn't that man right now. Simon was twenty years old. He enjoyed watching Will Ferrell movies, hanging out in the evenings with his dog and a beer, and living off peanut butter and whatever could be microwaved in less than five minutes. Even better than Beth, he could see the man he would someday be. But he wasn't ready to be that man yet.

drops of jupiter

"Did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there?"

The first thing she noticed was the air. Lakeisha had grown up in L.A., and had never ventured more than four hours from the city limits. Lakeisha had seen movie stars, was at the beach every weekend. But she was amazed by this place.

She stepped off the bus at the camp, and the doubt she had been suppressing since she boarded the plane at LAX surfaced along with a violent wave of nausea. Even from the edge of the camp, the smell was overwhelming. She hesitated dramatically, then realized she was an ocean away from home. There was nowhere to run back to.

Lakeisha soon came to know the pungent smell drifting around the camp as the smell of desperation. She got over it and did what she came to do. Although she would never admit it aloud, this trip was more about her. Seeing the world. Finding her role in the universe. Gaining perspective.

She was stationed at the camp for two weeks. She picked up parts of the native language. She saw despair in the refugees eyes, and realized that a child's natural glimmer of hope can be destroyed. She saw bravery conquer fear, and love triumph unbelievable odds. And she saw the loneliest, saddest, most helpless people she'd ever seen in her life.

Her two weeks ended. She packed her duffel. She kissed the children. She hugged the mothers. She shook hands with the men. She got back on that bus, back on that plane and cross the ocean. She got home and took a deep breath of the smog-ridden L.A. air.

But there was a trace of the camp's smell that lingered. It led her to the homeless man on the corner. The rehab center down the street. The orphanage two miles down. The ghettos across town.

1999

"Life is just a party and parties weren't meant to last."

Its that whole carpe diem thing. That notion to live each moment to the fullest because you never know which one is your last. That whole stop to smell the roses advice.

There are a million ways to say it, but it all means to live. Hope. Dance. Love. Lust. Dream. Imagine. Think. Help. Take a chance. Be compassionate. Smile. Cry. Be humble. Be strong. Work. Play. Discover. Learn. LIVE!

Do all the things you dream of. Be the person you want to be. And start right now. You may not have the chance tomorrow.

breathe (2 am)

"And these mistakes you've made you'll just make them again if you only try turning around."

Sometimes it felt like a wall. Like there was an actual structure of bricks stopping her. She wasn't sure if she should call that wall luck, or conscience, or God. (It crossed her mind that maybe all three were really the same thing with different names.) So sometimes she stopped, more accurately prevented, from repeating history.

But most times that was not the case. Most times she would flee openly to the past. A more predictable place, and in that sense, a safer one. Yet she always seemed amazed at the rut she was stuck in. The unsuccessful relationships. The stagnant career. Nothing ever really seemed to change, to get better. She never seemed to get better.

And somewhere deep inside she knew there was a step that needed to be taken. A step forward. That she should close her eyes, take a deep breath, and step out. But she wouldn't. She thought about it for hours, and the dread of such unknown often was the tipping point that sent her fleeing for the known. There seemed to be no way for her to be unafraid of the unknown.

And that is the fault in her thinking. She would never get over the fear until she stepped out. That fear, that dread of making a bad choice, of taking a chance, means that your on the right path.

you belong with me

"She wears high heels. I wear sneakers."

There was no way Maia could compete with her. Amanda wore eyeliner and mascara, she got manicures and pedicures, and she wore designer clothes. Maia had never considered indulging in personal beauty services. She only believed in bargain shopping. Her experience in make-up was minimal, and only consisted of people putting it on for her.

To be honest, Maia never wanted to be an Amanda type of girl. That is, until yesterday. She and Amanda were having lunch when a man walked in the cafe. Well to call him a man is really a disservice. He was an adonis, a god. Tall, dark, with these muscles and this smile.

He sat at the table next to them, and quickly turned to introduce himself. He spoke first to Maia, introducing himself as Lance, Maia's delight soon faded when he turned to speak to Amanda. The spark in his eyes changed. There was a light of intrigue and passion that wasn't there when he spoke to Maia.

As the two chatted, Maia began to think about her unshaped eyebrows, messy ponytail, sensible flats, even her unshaven legs beneath her pants. Before she got too emotional, Maia excused herself from the table, making up some excuse about needing to get back to work.

As she rode the elevator up to her office, she thought more about Amanda and herself. Maia had always been the sensible one. Amanda had always enjoyed the spotlight. Maia was captain of the debate team. Amanda was captain of the cheerleading squad. Maia attended Brown with an academic scholarship. Amanda went to Florida and partied.

These things had never bothered Maia. She had always found comfort in her practicality. But today she recognized something their mother had been telling then for as long as she could remember. That Amanda and Maia could stand to be a little more like the other. Maybe it was practical to care more about her looks if Maia ever wanted to get married. She hadn't even had a date in eight months.

Lance had liked Amanda. Her face was dolled up. Her hair was luxurious. Her perfume was alluring. These material things made a difference. After all, Maia and Amanda are identical twins.

forever

"It's like I waited my whole life for this one night."

Marlene was exhausted. The sun had been blazing all day. She thought some relief would come when the desert night rolled in, that a breeze would arrive to bring some comfort. But there would be no alleviation tonight. The stale, dry hot air remained.

Her crew was tired too. After all, they had been toiling out in that same heat as Marlene. She knew they all needed a rest, but the expedition only had funding for one more week. Each day, each minute were crucial.

And she knew this would be the last time she would have this opportunity. This was her third trip to Egypt. Marlene knew the pharoah's treasure was buried, she was nearly certain it was buried here. But she couldn't imagine that after three failed attempts she would be able to convince someone to sponsor another search.

An hour later, and with no find today of large or small significance, Marlene was ready to send everyone home. She was even considering a later start to the day tomorrow just to give the crew more time to recover. Then the whistle sounded. Each digger had a whistle they blew when they found something. Once for something small, twice for something moderate, and thrice for a big find.

Marlene put down her shovel and turned to the direction she thought the sound had come from. The whistle blew again. She began to walk towards the origin of the sound, hoping that whatever this trinket was could salvage morale.

The whistle blew again. Marlene quickened her pace. Her mind became alert again, but she restrained her optimism. After a few minutes of brisk walking, she came up on a jubilant digger. She didn't know this guy's name but surmised he could be no more than 20 years old. She was prepared to dismiss his excitement as naivete until she saw Joann, her assistant. Joann had tears in her eyes.

Marlene looked down and gasped in disbelief. Unearthed were three stairs, each with the distinctive emblem of the pharoah engraved on them. This was it. These were the stairs to the tomb, to the treasure.

And she sat there on the top stair. She cried, she smiled, she dreamed, she shouted. Her crew sat there with her in awe. Marlene could imagine the days and weeks to come. The uncovering, the fanfare. But she couldn't imagine that anything could be better than this night. This moment when it was just her and the realization of a dream.

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...

angel

"Spent all your time waiting for that second chance. For a break that would make it okay."

I imagine that he always wanted something more. More than the poor health, more than being adopted, more than being a bus driver. I hope that I'm wrong, that he was happy and had things he wanted.. But I doubt it.

Maybe if I had been older then I could have done more. Stood up for him to his siblings. Encouraged him to be healthy. Maybe I could have gotten over my fear of that house after my Gam died and visited more often.

Right now I mostly feel lost because I never mourned. I didn't go to the funeral and barely had time to acknowledge the loss...

I hope that he is with my grandparents. I hope that they are reminding him how much he is loved. I hope he can see that he is missed. I hope he can see the importance and value his life had here on earth from his new vantage point. I know he is happy there, but I still wish he could have been happy here too.

all i got

"Got a mind that lends me strength so I ain't afraid to stand."

There are things I believe in wholeheartedly. Causes, candidates, ideals, and people. And I believe in my opinion. I believe in taking a stand. I believe that there is a fine line between concession and compromise.

My mind never stops thinking. I dream ideas, plans, and strategies. I see possibilities and beauty on every corner. I find inspiration in intelligence and altruism. I take in everything and let my mind turn everything into an action. A cause to advocate for. A subject to study. A story to write. A rightful compassion and determination.

I like to sit back and think. How can I express some distinct human story? Whose political opinions should I give deference to? When and where should I speak my mind? How can I do my part?

And it is here I find my focus, my clarity, my purpose.

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.

miss you much

"I'm not the kind of girl who likes to be alone."

Annika had this boyfriend. Neil. They met at a club one night and instantly hit it off. They exchanged numbers and the rest, as they say, is history. The two get along great, have a lot in common, and really care about each other.

Enter problem. Annika lives in Charlotte. Neil lives in Boston.

Annika adores Neil, but six months into the relationship and she already knows its not for her. She likes to cuddle on the couch. She wants spontaneous dates. She needs someone to be there in the flesh. Not a million miles away on a phone.

But Annika can't bear to break Neil's heart. And so she let's the relationship linger on... and starts to feel a resentment and bitterness. She acts against these feelings by going out. She begins dating again.

Then one day there's a picture of Annika. With this guy Elijah. All cuddled up on a couch at her favorite lounge. A picture on Facebook. A picture that broke Neil's heart.

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.

good life

"I always had a passion for flashing. Before I had it I closed my eyes and imagined."

Mattie dreamed big. She would sit on the concrete blocks her family used as steps outside their trailer home. She would close her eyes.

In summertime she dreamed of beaches. Palm trees, ten feet tall. Soft, thick sand that her feet sank into as she walked. An endless ocean in front of her, and the salty sweet smell that accompanied it.

In winter she dreamed of snow-capped wonderlands. She pictured herself at a ski lodge. The fresh smell of snow surrounding her. The startling bursts of wind. The invigorating rush as she skied downhill.

And on particularly bad days, Mattie dreamed about the home she would have. Luxurious carpet and ornate rugs in every room. Cathedral ceilings. A kitchen with two refrigerators. Jacuzzi bathtubs in every bathroom. A library and an office.

A walk-in closet. And, yes, Mattie imagined the clothes. Couture gowns. A wall of shoes. Silk and cashmere. Purses and totes in every size. An outfit for every occasion. Jewelry dripping in diamonds, rubies, emeralds.

Mattie had big dreams. She lived quietly, as her dreams and her determination grew together. She would sit on her concrete steps and imagine the adventures she would have. And then she would walk inside her trailer, sit at the tiny desktop in the kitchen, and make her dreams come true.

if only for one night

"Your eyes say things I never hear from you."

Damon had sat across the room from Marisol everyday for the past eight months. She came into the cafeteria each day at 12:15. She got a tuna sandwich, some piece of fruit, and an apple juice. Everyday. And then she sat alone, eating her lunch and reading.

Damon would eat his lunch quickly so he could be done by the time she arrived. Then he would ogle her quietly around the edges of his newspaper.

Maybe it was the books she was reading, but Damon had become mesmerized by her face. Despite the monotony she manifested by her daily lunch routine, Marisol's eyes exposed another side of her. Sometimes they were bursting with adventure, sometimes they were brimming with intrigue, and others they were overcome with emotion.

Marisol would read and these dormant desires for adventure and romance would surface on her face. Damon would watch and share in these desires vicariously.

But his favorite part came five minutes before going back. Marisol would close the book, throw away her food stuff, and stand near the small window overlooking the parking lot. She would reflect what she just read. It was always then that Damon could see the longing on her face. The want for her life to be more. Damon's reflected the same look of longing; only he longed for Marisol to see him.

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.

won't back down

"When all is lost, all is left to gain."

She awoke suddenly, and just for a second thought it all was a dream. For the smallest, simplest, and happiest of moments. Then the reality came rushing back to Cassandra with such a vengeance she felt it would knock her over. And maybe it already had. The fire. The house was gone. That house that she had grown up in, that she had set up her business in, that she wanted to raise her kids in. Her daughter...

She looked over at her child, lying unconscious in her hospital bed. That fire was threatening to take the most precious thing from her life, and she didn't know how to fight it. Cassandra had been in the hospital for hours trying to figure out what she could do. How she could remedy this situation. But there was nothing. She wasn't particularly good at waiting, but that was her only option.

Cassandra would have to wait and see how badly the smoke had damaged her three-year old daughter's lungs. Cassandra would have to wait for the insurance company to fill out paperwork and submit reports before receiving compensation. And she would have to wait for an offer of employment.

She was imagining her whole life fall apart when her daughter woke up. She coughed and called out for Cassandra. Cassandra wrapped her tiny hand in hers and pushed the pager for the nurse. It took that gracious miracle for Cassandra to realize that the house and the job were important but not everything. Everything she needed to restart her life was in this room.

breathe

"Its the kind of ending you really don't want to see."

Rebecca remembered closing her eyes. It was painful enough to listen to this argument, let alone watch it unfold. Ben and Yvonne had been going at it for what seemed hours. And there she was stuck in the middle. Again.

The two had had such a fairy tale romance. Ben wooed Yvonne with flowers and romantic dates and love poems. Yvonne had been the perfect poised damsel, awaiting a Prince Charming rescue. So maybe they got swept up in the story. Maybe we all did.

Three years later, there were nothing but fights. Over how the groomer should cut the dogs hair. Over where the TV should be in the bedroom. Over how long it should take for them to eat dinner. Senseless arguments that elevated until the two were screaming.

Rebecca was always in the middle. Yvonne's best friend. Ben's little sister. They called her and she helplessly watched their relationship unravel.

She was so tired of the fighting. Resolutely she opened her eyes. Rebecca stepped in this time. She confronted them in the heat of their argument, and suggested this fight be the last fight. And they listened and followed her instruction.

But Rebecca hated to see the fairy tale end, as much for her own sake as theirs. She had found hope in Ben and Yvonne, a fulfillment of every little girl's dream that she didn't want to let go.

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

i'm your angel

"No rivers too wide for you to make it across. All you have to do is believe it when you pray."

I imagine he stood there for a moment. Not a moment of hesitation or disbelief. But a moment of awe at what faith can reap. He was secure in his belief that he and his people had been carried out of Egypt by God, and he knew that if they believed, God would set them free. Yet still, he had to have stood there in amazement to see the fruits of faith. I believe he stopped for just a few moments as the sea parted and felt his heart soar. And I believe the people behind were more taken aback to see this man's immense faith deepen.

It is one thing to believe that a miracle can occur, and a whole other to watch it happen right in front of your eyes. Its what we all look for; some proof of God as glorious at the parting of the Red Sea. But miracles don't come in that size any longer. They manifest in the smallest moments. Non news-worthy reports.

People with faith still are the bearers of miracles. The people with the faith that life is worthy of fighting for with every breath and sinew. The people with faith in the goodness and decency of mankind. The people with the faith that their life is no better than any other man's life. The people with the faith to face their biggest fears.

So Moses got to see the Red Sea part. He walked between two walls of water. He saw what faith can do. And he told us about so that we would always remember too. Miracles happen all around us. Just maybe we're so busy looking for a sea to part that we can't see and appreciate the miracles we receive everyday.

i don't wanna be

"I'm tired of looking around corners wondering what I gotta do or who I'm supposed to be."

Clarity comes in odd packages and unexpected moments. In a period where my focus should be on what I am going to do in the next few months, how I'm going to survive, I have instead become caught in a web of self-reflection.

I am remembering the values and beliefs that I want to live by. I am beginning to enact long-held goals. I am searching beyond academic, professional, and social success.

I know more about myself today than I did two weeks ago. I know how my priorities are ordered. I am learning where I want to compromise and where I refuse. I am fighting bad habits and choosing new commitments.

Most importantly, I am embracing me. Every crook and cranny. Every flaw. Every imperfection. Every oddity. Every pleasure. Every hope and dream. Every love.

"I don't want to be anything other than me."

it's gonna be love

"It's gonna be more than I can take."

She feels the fall
It is Terrifying
She fears the rapid descent
With no guarantees
And no hand to hold
It is Exciting
She smiles as the pit deepens
Anticipating his touch
She leans into the freefall
It is Uncontrollable
There is no bottom
The fall will not stop

blackberry molasses

"So many things you'll survive once you realize there's no such place as paradise."

Kenya. She was an average girl, with average looks and intellect. She was kind but not altruistic enough to stand out. She was funny, but not enough to be heard. She was quiet.

Kenya killed herself early one morning in the bathroom while her parents slept. She left no note so they never really understood why. But she was tired of being mediocre. Of constantly being overlooked. Of being completely invisible.

Lawrence. He had everything. He had a well-paying job, a different girl for every night of the week, and a plush apartment in Manhattan. He drove a fast car and lived a fast life. He smiled and laughed with his friends, who all found him charming and energetic.

Lawrence killed himself one Saturday afternoon at his vacation home. It was nearly three days before anyone found him. He left a note saying he was tired of the fake smiles and the empty life. He craved substance he could never get.

Marcus. He was orphaned at 13 after a tragic car accident. He bounced from foster home to foster home. He saw the best and the worst of people throughout his life. He knew there was no yellow brick road, no easy way out, and life is a struggle every day. He believed that no place on this earth existed where complete happiness could be obtained. But he was content and accepting of his life. He woke up every morning prepared to face that day's struggle and to find joy in the small moments.

Marcus had many reasons over the years to give up on life. Horrible situations he experienced and witnessed. But he understood that life is struggle. And that the only way to win was to fight back and become stronger with every strife.

all that i got is you

"Sometimes I look up at the stars and analyze the sky and ask myself was I meant to be here."

There are monsters and demons on earth. I'm not talking about vampires or yetis or leviathans. I'm talking about pedofiles, serial killers, abusers, terrorists, etc. People whose existence in this world causes destruction and misery.

And there are victims. There are children born to monsters that lose their childhood and never get a chance to become whole people. There are women who marry monsters, then suffer through their daily lives. There are people tortured and killed by monsters just for some sick pleasure.

These victims. These people who spend years with these monsters. These people who die senseless and excruciating deaths. I don't know anything about living through something like that but I would imagine this thought runs through their mind often: Is my only reason on this earth is to suffer and die in a monster's hands?

head to toe

"Today started with a crazy kiss on the way home."

Did he intentionally miss my cheek and aim for my mouth? Hmm.. I don't think so. But he definitely kissed me. And regardless of whether it started accidentally or not, it sure didn't end that way. There were lips and tongues, hands and butterflies.

So he kissed me. Right outside my front door. Nothing new happened today, nothing different. We got off the night shift at the hospital about the same time. It was his turn to drive. We got to my house and he walked me to the door. (I'm always afraid of the raccoons.) He hugged me. Then there was kissing.

There were fireworks. Soft lips. There was comfort and warmth. There was passion. There were strong arms. There was something there. A spark I didn't recognize yesterday.

So now what? Should I call? Will he call? When will we kiss again? Or, will we kiss again? Was it really just an accident? Did he feel the same as I felt?

A kiss. Two minutes of a connection that felt so right. And now I'm giddy and confused. But that means it was a great kiss, right...

touch

"I just want him to see another side of me."

Comfortable heels. Economy suit. Ponytail. No make-up. No cleavage. Felicia came to work everyday wearing the same thing. She sat quietly at her desk. She worked diligently. If asked to describe her, Felicia's coworkers would say she was intelligent, dependable, and a hard worker. And that used to be enough.

Then came the new suit in the office. Lawrence Soman. He was the new Vice President of Government Affairs. Felicia found him exciting; his charisma and ambition were mesmerizing. But he barely ever noticed her despite the fact that she reported directly to him.

Her opportunity arose. Soman's secretary planned the annual staff party at a local lounge instead of the office. All week long Felicia heard the other female employees buzzing about what they would wear. And she was no exception. Her mind was preoccupied on how to catch the eye of Soman.

Stilettos. Pencil skirt with a thigh high split. Fuschia top. Hair down. Make-up on. Felicia appeared at the staff party in her best effort. She was personable, had a few drinks, chatted with all her colleagues. Everyone seemed genuinely surprised and pleased with this temporary transformation.

Then her moment came. Felicia was sitting in the only comfortable chair in the lounge, resting her weary feet. Soman came over and began to chat her up. She quickly realized that he didn't recognize her, and attempted to remind him who she was. Soman was obviously embarrassed, fumbled through some words, and walked away.

Monday morning Felicia came to work in her usual attire. She sat in her office and did her work. Suddenly Soman enter. He quickly apologizes about the staff party. He honestly didn't recognize her with the flashy outfit and full make-up. When Felicia indicated she was trying to look pretty for the vent, Soman laughed. He informed her that she looked beautiful everyday just the way she was. There was no need to do more.

As he walked out the door, he left Felicia with her mouth gaping open and a lot to think about.

slide

"Somethin' I can't change. I'll live around it."

The constant scrape was what bothered him the most. More than the stares, the lack of mobility, or the gnawing feeling of inferiority. It was that scrape. The sound of the rubber sole of his Adidas pushing against every surface it met. While other people trotted easily about their day, picking up each foot as they scurried from home to work, Keenan was forced to walk slowly and drag his right foot behind him.

He wasn't always this way. He used to be an energetic kid. Just like any other boy, he jumped and swam and flipped. He was fearless. And on one of those fearless days, Keenan ran out into the street chasing a soccer ball and got hit by a car. Several nerves in his right leg were severely damages; as a result Keenan lost the ability to control his right foot. It merely drags along, and is now more akin to an anchor than a foot.

There is his day to day. Left foot step, right foot scrape. Left foot step, right foot scrape. Keenan felt like this sound might drive him crazy. He was being haunted by all that he used to be, and for some reason that ghost manifested itself in that sound. So there he was. Facing the ridiculous reality that a scraping sound would become his weakness and interrupt his ability to function.

He thought about the pain when the car struck him. The surgeries at the hospital. The bruises, scars, and broken bones. The months of physical therapy. He thought about his former determination to not let his disability define him. He had excelled in high school. He had gone to college. He had a challenging, respectable, and good-paying job. And know he had become so preoccupied by the sound of his foot scraping along the sidewalk that he was risking all that he had worked for.

So Keenan made a decision that allowed him to move forward. He found that there was a way to distract himself from the constant noise, so he could become less bitter and return to living his life. Because that was the truth of the matter. This life is his. For good and bad. He is a man with a disability. But that was the only handicap he was willing to accept. He made a decision that let him move forward in a world where he may walk a little slower than everyone else, but he would still get to the sam places.

Keenan found solace. He bought an ipod.

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.

shattered (turn the car around)

"How many times can I break 'til I shatter?"

There is a truth couched quietly in the eyes of Miranda James: She's dying inside. She's not sick. She's not old. She is simply giving up, day by day and hour by hour.

Miranda has survived a lot. She was orphaned when she was thirteen. She was in a near-fatal car accident when she was nineteen. She worked two jobs all four years of college to pay tuition and costs. She is a chemical engineer and only the fourth woman ever to work at her company.

Miranda's friends, family, and colleagues know she is strong. They think of her as a survivor. They reason that she has overcome so much and has handled so much in her life, that she is strong enough to handle anything that comes her way. That appears logical reasoning, but the human soul is not always logical.

In reality, Miranda is falling apart. Every obstacle has crushed her, but she has always rebuilt. She knows that she is not as strong now. She can feel the fight slowly slipping away. And it scares her and brings her even that closer to crashing.

If Miranda finds out today that she's been laid off, or that her sister has cancer, or that her house has caught on fire, or any other unforeseen disaster has occurred... Will this be the day she shatters? And if so, who will come to rebuild her?

changes

"Although it seems heaven sent we ain't ready to see a black president."

These words were written about 15 years ago. I believe they were true then. A lot has changed. This country has witnessed devastating natural and man-made disasters. There has been a significant influx in the Latino population. There has been a small, yet momentous, increase in the positive portrayal of black people in the media.

Yet, I still believe those words to be true. Yes, I am aware that we have a black President. However we must recognize the truth of the matter. Obama suceeded where other black men failed for one distinct reason: he was raised by white people. His upbringing created in him a fundamental belief in race-neutral politics. His upbringing never instilled a notion of racial bitterness.

His race-neutral upbringing, extreme intellect, and commitment to the patriotism are the characteristics that spurred his opportunity to be President. But the vast majority of black people grow up in a world where two of those things are not encouraged and are not taught.

daughters

"On behalf of every man looking out for every girl, you are the god and the weight of her world."

Damon walked away from his family when he was 37 years old. No note, no notice. He just packed up a few items and drove his pick-up truck away. He had been laid off, his wife constantly nagged at him, and he was He left behind a wife, a son, and a daughter.

Lawrence always wanted sons. He married a kind and loving woman, and she gave him one child. A daughter. Larry barely held the child. He never gave her affection, never took interest in her life. He made sure she was fed, clothed, and protected. But he had no interest in knowing her.

Tony was angry and an addict. He had spent most of his youth deployed overseas. He came home with nightmares and hallucinations. He used drugs and alcohol to ease the pain. When that wasn't enough he took his frustration and fear out on his wife and two daughters by hitting them.

So what happened to these four girls? Their lives didn't fall apart. They graduated high school, went to college and became successful professionals. They had solid relationships with their families, strong friendships to count on, and a generally wide social network.

But they struggled in relationships. Their assumption of men was that they were jerks, that every action was done with ulterior motive or to purposefully hurt. They rarely had long-lasting relationships, and when they did, they were paranoid, vengeful, and uncompromising.

They appeared as well-rounded and emotionally stable as their friends who grew up in a stable family. Their lives didn't fall apart. But they had. They were not whole and didn't even realize it. They didn't believe in and understand love. They didn't know how it worked. They didn't know what it felt like. They couldn't recognize a man's love.

i hope you dance

"And if you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance."

Welcome to the world. A place filled with noise, pollution, and people. Here, the everyday miracles are usually overshadowed by the disaster of the day. Despite the beauty present in each of us, we tend to be overcome by our own human nature. Greed, lust, despair, fear, anger, and vanity have become veils to the complexity within.

And this is the world we bring life into. Full of crime and pain. Full of selfish people. A world in which we struggle to find purpose, love, and contentment. The only guarantee we can have is that we will die.

This line is from a song about conquering this world the only way we can. With hope and determination. By taking advantage of the opportunities put forth. By recognizing and taking good risks.

This line is about seizing the day. About making the most of each moment. About taking advantage of the day, because its all we know we have. About being able to look back without regret, be happy in today, and look forward with optimism and great expectation.

This song is about teaching someone how to conquer this world. About loving people enough to want to see them accomplish more than yourself. About finding the inner peace to encourage others. About seeing how much beauty and quality this world really holds.

miracles

"If I conceive it then I can achieve it. And if I dream and believe it then I can be it."

When Joseph was young he wanted to be a lot of things. A pediatrician, a teacher, a fireman. He believed in each of those dreams. As he grew older, he changed. He realized that those childhood fantasies came with very hardwork. Work and diligence he found himself unwilling to do.

Joseph reached his senior year of high school with no real interest in attending college. He had taken all the performance exams but only because it was the norm. He had gone on a few college trips with his buddies for fun. Still his motivation was lacking.

But in one day, Joseph's life took an unexpected turn. He was leving the school late after lacrosse practice and saw one of his a girl he vaguely knew from class crying. Joseph sat down and talked to her. He quickly found out that her father had been laid off from his job, and the financials situation at home was becoming dire.

Joseph did his best to console her, but could only really help by giving her a ride home. That night he laid in his bed and his mind could not help but to ponder the girl's dilemma. Here was a girl with so much potential that was considering droppin g out of high school four months before graduation to help her family pay the bills. He was restless so he got out of bed and began searching the internet for solution.

The next day, joseph anxiously looked for the girl at school. When he finally spotted her, he bombarded her with all the information he had found about government assistance for her family, about legal rights for people that had been laid off, and about financial aid plans.

And there began his purpose. It started small, in that moment wanting to help that girl. But it sparked a passion. Jospeh became intrigued by the intricacies of the law, began to monitor first national then state legislation. He went to college and studied political science. He went to law school. He did public service law for seven years. He ran for a state office and served in the state legislature for ten years. He ran for Congress and served there for another seventeen years. He then was appointed to a Secretary of Labor.

That girl in high school had sparked a desire to reform employment law in a manner that protects the financial security of families. And now he is in a position where he can.

through the wire

"But I'm a champion. So I turned tragedy to triumph. Make music that's fire. Spit my soul through the wire."

So what if he's cocky? All rappers are. But instead of having confidence about his ability to sell drugs on the corner, he is sure that he is smart, talented, and worthy of being listened to. Is he wrong?

To most of us, he emerged on the rap scene after a near-fatal accident. His first hit was recorded while his jaw was still wired for recovery. And we all knew it was amazing.

He followed with songs that made us think, laugh, and celebrate. He changes moods between lines. He creates beats with moods. He is attempting to revolutionize hip hop.

And he has. He is mainstream but real. His music is catchy enough to grab the attention of the thug. But his songs are a reflection of my life. He talks about identity crisis, religion, and the pitfalls of fast-living. Then he talks about club-hopping and reminisces on college days.

Yes he is a bit rough around the edges. He knows he has a voice, and I suspect he's still learning how to express that voice appropriately but uncensored. But he gives his soul every time he opens his mouth. I think its encouraging, and wish I had more of his confidence.

everything you want

"He's everything you want."

Intelligent
Strong
Ambitious
Focused
Affectionate
Adventurous
Caring
Funny
Attentive

"He's everything you need."

He's here right now. He wants to take care of me and show me the world. He wants to hold my hand and listen to my life. He wants to be loyal, honest, and committed. If I let him, he will sweep me off my feet. He adores me... at a time when I feel alone and unsure of myself.

"He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be. He says all the right things at exactly the right time but he means nothing to you and you don't know why."

But I don't spend my nights with him. I don't wake up and think of him. I don't reminisce on our time together. I don't yearn for him when we are apart. I don't find it cute or exciting when he calls. Its too much of an effort on my part, when it should be effortless. My indifference is devastating for both of us.

crush

"Love hurts so much more than it seems."

Jamie fell in love with a man five years ago. They did all the things that a couple does. They went on dates. They met each others families. They went on vacation together. Jamie loved that man but always felt that something was off. He didn't really share enough and he was reluctantly intimate sometimes. Last night he proposed and she said no. How could she marry someone when her gut told her not to? But she does love that man.

Terry had a best friend he had known since high school. They knew each others life stories. He loved her and only wanted her happiness. He had watched her suffer through three abusive relationships in the past ten years. He talked to her about them over and over again, urging her to end the relationships. She would, but then she would start dating another abusive man. Last night, Terry walked away. How could he support this self-destructive behavior? But he still loves her.

Crecia and her mother were always very close. Crecia thought of her mom as her confidant, counselor, and protector. Last night, Crecia found out that her mom has Stage 4 cancer, and the doctors estimated she had about eight weeks left. How can she survive this world without her mommy? She needs her love.

i will be

"If I hold on I will show the world all the things that you never expected to see from little old me."

I feel as if though I've always been surrounded by doubt and low expectations. And maybe its my own fault. Its true that I probably don't come across as the girl with the biggest dreams or the greatest potential. I can be quiet and awkward in professional social settings. I don't interview well. My grades have never been startlingly good. I have a lack of clarity about what I want for my life and no vision of who I want to be in the future. My ambition and potential seem mediocre.

But I am far from mediocre. And if you cared to pay attention, you would know too. And despite my uncertainty about the path I want my life to go, there are a few things I know for sure.

I am and will be strong. I will show this world all that my soul has to offer. I will be unabashed about the things I am passionate for. I will love abundantly. I will write beautifully. I will work diligently.

And when I am done I will have left my imprint in the life of every person I loved, every friend I made, every client I represent, every fan I earn.

never let you down

"I'm talking to you, my many inspirations when I say I can't let you or self down."

I wake up every morning. I go to work. I work hard and come home. And sometimes its easy to get lost in the daily shuffle and then become discouraged by the monotony of life. I don't get lost.

I wake up with focus. There are people I adore that I am determined to make proud. There are people that I love that I want to take care of. There are people I respect that I want to impress. There are people that I work with that rely upon me. And there are things I want for my life that I have to work hard to achieve.

And I'm not saying those days don't come when I struggle to get out of the bed. Especially when its cold out. But I always get up. And I make the decision to face the day with enthusiasm, and to believe that each day brings new challenges and opportunities which strengthen us.

who can i run to

"As I stand here contemplating on the right thing to decide, will I take the wrong direction all my life?"

Here comes another dilemma. MJ sat heavily on the wooden bar stool in the kitchen. She laid her head an the countertop and found the cold granite to somehow be oddly comforting. But still her mind raced. MJ had a decision to make, and truth be told, she hated making decisions. She was terrified of being solely responsible for making the wrong choice. No scapegoats, no blame. Just her.

And she sat there on the stool with her head pressed to the countertop for a while, until the awkward position began to make her neck ache. MJ sat up with hesitation. She needed another distraction.

Ice cream will help. She grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's from the fridge and shuffled into the living room. MJ ate and she thought. Ms. Anthony was expecting her phone call any moment. She wrote down all the practical reasons why staying was the best option. Then she wrote down the one reason why taking advantage of this opportunity would be so amazing.

Finally, she reached for the phone. Ms. Anthony answered on the second ring. MJ confidently informed her that she would take the gig, and that it would only take her three days to formally withdraw from school and pack up her things. Some dreams are worth the risk, MJ thought assuredly as she hung up the phone. But really she was terrified of the choice she had just made.

h to the izzo

"He who does not feel me is not real to me therefore he doesn't exist"

My name is Rhyan. Rhyan Martrell. I am a junior in high school. I have a 3.85 gpa, am vice-president of the honor society, and am in the glee club. I raise my hand in class and enjoy answering questions correctly. I prefer playing Trivial Pursuit more than watching football. I am, by all definitions of the word, a nerd.

So what does that mean? That I am smart, hard-working, self-motivated, and goal-oriented. It means that I embrace my uniqueness, and don't necessarily long to fit in. And I have friends. I have fun times. I have parental issues. I can't wait to get my own car. I look forward to moving away for college.

But, I have no desire to be one of the "cool kids". I don't want to hang out and party on weekends. I'd rather read Thoreau. I don't want to smush into the bleachers at football games just to cheer on the home team. The list goes on... Most importantly, I don't want to dumb myself down just to fit in. I'm sure they make fun of me. Or maybe they don't even notice me at all. Either way, it doesn't matter. They are not like me. They don't want to understand me. Their priorities are vastly different than mine. Therefore, their opinions don't matter. In my mind, they barely even exist.

hands

"Worry is wasteful and useless in times like this. I won't be made useless or be idle with despair."

Shit happens. I cannot be more blunt than that. We all know it does because it happens to us on a regular basis. That is why I lobe this quote / song. I'm not saying that there aren't unavoidable circumstances, nor am I trying to belittle the everyday struggles. But some things are simply inevitable. You will have bad days.

As of this moment, I will be unemployed come August. I have about five months to find a job during possibly the worst recession since The Great Depression. Still, I will not worry. I will focus on doing the job I have, learning as much as I can. I will network. I will tirelessly apply for jobs. I will job hunt. I will even make an alternate plan in case my efforts are in vain. But I WILL NOT worry. I will not be overcome by the consequences of unemployment. I will not be paralyzed by the prospect of unemployment. If I allow those things to happen, then I will be unemployed.

Its that simple. To worry is to get caught up thinking about something so much that you neglect to act to remedy the situation. Just shake it off.

love is

"Love takes the fear and the pain, and turns it into the beauty that remains."

Welcome to the common bond. What do we all want? LOVE. How are we gonna get it? By suffering through the days, doubting ourselves, and trying to be strong. And it is precisely those challenges that make us lovable. The bad times strengthen us. Our complexity makes us beautiful. Our vulnerability makes us yearn. Our imperfections make us easy to adore.

Yes we all face pitfalls bad days, dry spells, and frustrations along the way. But it is important to remember that those are the challenges that teach us how to love others and resolve us on the way we want to be loved.

he touched me

"He touched me and suddenly nothing is the same."

An accidental hand brush
The brief caress of skin
And I am left dazed

I have to touch him again
For touching him is like breathing air
Necessary

His hand was like a jolt of electricity
How can an instant of contact do so much?
Sets my skin on fire
Sends my heart racing
Clears my mind
Elevates my soul

I can't imagine what his kiss would do
But I can find out...

takeover

"A wise man told me don't argue with fools, cause people from a distance can't tell who is who."

It all begins and end here.
I am on vacation from dealing with these foolish dudes who either have no game or think they are God's gift. I'm tired of searching for the middle ground. I can teach you game, but I don't have time for that. I can tell you about yourself, but you're not ready for that. So I'm on vacation from the constant soulmate search. I'm only interested in building friendships and networks. So step off til August.

AND I'm done with the pretense. I refuse to let the foolish folks at work stress me out while they get to live in contented oblivion. My job is not to protect people from clashing or to minimize the crazy. I'm on vacation, which the rest of my tenure at this job should be interesting. We shall see who survives it with a paycheck and their sanity.

Jay, thanks for the advice. I've been trying to change these foolish people, which is nothing but a foolish act in and of itself. Obviously, I need to take some time to reassess my approach. So until further notice, there's no reason for me to be nice or safe... Keep your eyes open and your hands to yourself.

the light

"It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine."

Its about appreciation. When you take a moment to reflect and realize that there are people that make your days better. But you've got to see them and understand the important role they play in your life. I'm not talking about just your spouse or significant other. You can have fifty sunshines in your life.

The person at work that shares their snacks and crossword puzzle. The friend whose laugh always makes you laugh. The child that reaches for your hand before crossing the street. The sibling who always has a moment to share funny stories. The person goes out of their way just to make you smile.

So take a moment to really reflect on the people that take brighten up the small moments and in-between spaces of your life. Make sure they know they are appreciated. Then take a longer moment and think about whose life you brightened lately.

your body is a wonderland (part II)

"I'll never let your head hit the bed without my hand behind it."

There had always been something beautiful about Eddie. The first Kara met him she just knew that she could fall in love with him. And she did. By the time they had their first date, she adored him.

The first time they made love, Kara knew that Eddie was the one. There were these little things he did that could be nothing else but reflections of love. Eddie kissed her, her hands her shoulder, her back, her stomach. He held her hands. He spooned afterwards. And somehow, she always felt his hand at the nape of her neck, supporting her. His genuine care for her was clear, especially when making love. Kara couldn't imagine another man she would rather share the rest of her life with.

your body is a wonderland (part I)

"I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase."

Eddie didn't particularly believe in love at first site and never really understood how people could just "know" in a moment that they had found their one true love. Which is not to say he didn't love his girlfriend Kenya. He and Kenya had been together for about 14 months, and he adored her. But their relationship was no instant success. It had taken weeks to woo her into a date, and had been two months before they settled into a committed relationship to one another.

Eddie woke up this morning and it was just like any other day. Kenya had spent the night at his place. The alarm went off and they both reached for the snooze. After the second time the alarm went off, Eddie turned on the news and they debated about who was going to get up to make the coffee. Kenya was the loser that round, and stumbled down to the kitchen to start the coffee. After about six minutes, she came scampering back up, and crawled back into bed to reclaim the snugly warmth.

It took approximately ten seconds for Kenya to crawl back under the covers, but those few moments had taken Eddie's breath away. And it wasn't some sort of seductive crawl. In fact, she had stumbled a bit over the footboard. Her hair was still wrapped up from the night before. She had on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top with clouds on it. But somehow it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

Somehow that quick action became a clarifying moment. Eddie's heart was racing. A part of him felt on fire, wanting her so passionately that it was hard to breathe. At the same time, he had never felt so safe and so sure. He knew that he wanted to see her do that everyday for the rest of his life.

call my name

"I know its only been three hours but I love it when you call my name."

Temptation is
The thought of you
And me
Gripping sheets
Or headboards

Seduction is
The sweetest kiss
With roving hands

Connection is
Hearts pounding against each other
Intense rhythms
Sweet rides
Intimacy

Satisfaction is
A primal ecstasy
A loss of control
And the sweet euphoria

Addiction is
Opening my eyes
Wanting more
Now