knotted stomach.

for the first time in a long time, I'm feeling really hollow, really nervous, and really on edge. I'm scared. and I don't even know what of..maybe that's just adding to the angst.

jekyll and hyde.

My heart breaks for those who cannot help themselves.  My mind is baffled by those who hurt others without a second thought.

I'm frightened because I know I am both helpless and cruel.

this would happen.

I walked into my Fiance's apartment for the first time over weekend.  I was so excited to see where he's been living.  I know Mommy would have been very excited for us.  I think it's so appropriate that the first thing to catch my eye in his new home was a picture of her and my dad sitting on his counter.

I love my mom.

1.1.11

a day to remember.

The Love of My Life.

I was fourteen.  I wore plaid and polos.  I was horribly unaware, but completely self-conscious.  I had little time for nonsense, I only tolerated my peers when shenanigans occurred.  

He was seventeen.  He also wore polos, and on occasion, a bright green silk tie with his white collared shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He meant business, and I appreciated his seriousness.

I wanted so badly to talk to him, to know him, to be his friend.  I would take the long way to class just to pass by his locker, in the off chance that he was there. 

I want so badly to be with him, to hold his hand, to hold his heart. I will take the long way around if it means we can have forever together.

is this really my Saturday night?

There is nothing more pathetic than my e-mail drafts folder. Half written notes used as a catharsis for some emotional surge that plagued me at some very specific moments in life.  I'm happy I never actually sent any of them, but they did help while I was writing them.  And kind of like those old diaries that contain silly secrets, I can't bring myself to throw them away.

I think it would be interesting to create a blog using those messages left unsent, those text messages we write with no intention of sending, but really really want to.  I think a similar theme could be found in all of mine: please help me, I'm hurting.  I'm pretty positive that many people would have a similar message.  Sad to think that it will never be heard.  Sad to think some people don't even care.  Sad to think some people can't care because they don't have the ability to.  Sad to think I have time to think of all these ridiculous scenarios.

Of This I am Sure.

"Thank God that this world is the only Hell we'll ever have to know."


Oh that followers of Christ may have this great hope, this blessed assurance that we are not permanent residents of this planet, rather we are merely pilgrims on our way to a much greater destination. Praise be to God.

decisions, decisions.

I have three options for tomorrow:

1. Kill myself.
2. Run away from home.
3. Sob until my body runs out of tears, and I make myself utterly sick.

they all seem pretty plausible in this moment...I halfway hope the inclination for number one decreases because I'm sure I would regret it on Monday morning...then again, next week is finals.

Navigation.

Now that I've done it, I can navigate through the city alone just fine...but I don't really think  I'd want to, I like sharing it with my Man.

PS: Guggenheim is pretty inspirational, and headache inducing.

mindless chatter.

The shear curtains swayed gently as the crisp fall breeze danced through the window.  It was only half past five in the evening, but it felt much later.  Exhaustion fooled my body once again.  I glanced down at my phone and reminded myself that there was still work to be done before night got away from me, again.  In the not so distant downstairs I could hear my siblings argue meaninglessly about who was to wash the dishes, and who was to dry them.  "It's all the same," I thought to myself with a silent laugh, "I could probably do it all in less time than it takes them to fight about it."  But who am I to get in the way of their chores?  I had just completed making dinner, setting out the dishes, and cleaning up the left over food.  I deserved a break, right?  I quickly made my escape up to my hideaway as soon as everyone was preoccupied.  Perhaps that was deceitful, but quite frankly, I like being alone more than being in the company of others, even when that company is my own flesh and blood.  At least this isn't a new pattern.  Ever since I could remember being alone in my room was better than being with people.  I'm no good at small talk, I'm reluctant to start conversations, and if I could choose I would never bring myself to a party.  People bother me.  It's not that I'm afraid of them, I just don't like them.  With all their problems, and pains, quirks, and smells...I find it much easier to deal with one person: me.  I am a comprised of all the things which I do not like, but at least I'm familiar with my shortcomings, my hidden secrets, my annoying habits, and distasteful aroma.  I brought myself out of this cloud of mindless chatter an back into the world beckoning me from inside the pages of my psychology textbook.  I reached for it, but fell short.  If I haven't read it by now, am I really going to read it right now?  Perhaps tomorrow, when it isn't quite so dark outside.  Let's hope it rains again.

deafened by the silence.

Today I heard the sound of birds and I wish that I was anywhere but here.
It's too quiet, too quiet.

insert profanity.

stupid effing world.

i guess i missed the part where watching my mom get lowered into the ground was going to become less painful.

Letters From the Sky.

One of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky telling us all to go free.
But until that day I'll find a way to let everybody know that you're coming back,
you're coming back for me.
Cause even though you left me here, I have nothing left to fear.
These are only walls that hold me here.
-Civil Twilight

Legitimate Logistics.

"What's your plan after graduating from Union County?"

Today I verbalized my plan to someone other than a family member...it made me feel pretty freaking legit.  I think it surprised the counselor.  She just looked at me and said,

"Wow. That's the best plan of action I've heard from a student in a long time. Best of luck."

Shock, of course.

He was dressed in black slacks, a black button down shirt, and a black vest.  His black dress shoes were slightly scuffed on the ride side of the left foot, but mostly polished.  He spun his gold wedding band nervously as he sat alone at the cafe table.  I had just glanced behind me to look at the teas, but caught his familiar face instead.  His eyes were tired, drooping with the weight of many sleepless nights.  His mouth was curved downwards, indicating incessant sadness.  He looked friendly, but ominous;  like he was about to share some horrible news that was absolutely necessary for me to hear. Mesmerized, I stared at him.  His black ensemble, and feeble hands were so intriguing all of the sudden.  I felt like I knew so much about him, not because I was examining, but because I could here his voice in my head even though he sat in utter silence.  It was the way he sat, tall and unmoved, but very uncomfortable.  He looked out of place, like he needed to leave, lest anyone see him.  His eyes, though tired, were alert and shifting.  Finally they pierced me and my mouth hung gaping open.  He had discovered me watching him.  I was worried he would stare back, but instead he gave me a sympathetic half smile and suddenly became very concerned with his wedding band.  I turned away, still in awe.  How did I know this man?  I kept glancing behind me to watch him.  With every turn of my head and every eyeful of him I pieced together more and more of the conversation we had.

His order was up, and he somberly walked to the cashier to pay.  It killed me inside, I did not want him to leave, I wanted to follow him, to watch him just a little more.  I needed to know why I had spoken with him, why I felt I knew so much about him.

He reached for the door when the cashier asked him if he'd like a bag for his items.
"Of course" was his gentle and caring response.  It sounded rehearsed, as if he knew she would ask, as if he had been waiting to give that exact reply.

Suddenly it washed over me like a cold and unwelcome tidal wave of shock.

"Have you decided on a color?"
"I think we need a few more minutes," my voice faded as tears welled up in my tired eyes.
"Of course," the man spoke softly, "of course."
Moments passed, but it felt like a lifetime.  Walking around in the same small area made me claustriphobic, choosing pastel colors and wood finishes made me sick.
"We'd like the oak, with the pink interior. Mommy loved pink, she loved..."
"Of course."

Legit Studying.

I sat down and studied for the first time all semester tonight.

This was not my normal bo-bo two-minute-glance-at-a-page-recite-one-vocab-word-and-call-it-a-day studying.  I mean I made a cup of coffe, cracked open my textbook, my notebook, and website companion and studied for two and a half hours. Still not a super long time, but compared to my normal, I'm pretty stoked.  It felt good to work, to read, to memorize.  Let's hope it pays off tomorrow.

If I don't do well, it's back to my bo-bo study habits...only kidding.

such is life.

life on earth is full of death. ironic? so often there are moments of such sorrow, harrowing and inexplicable grief.

but there is hope in the love of a husband and wife.
such great joy in the heartbeat of  growing infant.

it is in life that God extends grace.
it is in death that God fulfills hope.

Collision.

The dawn is breaking,
a light shining through.
You're barely waking,
and I'm tangled up in you, yeah

Even the best fall down sometimes.
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme.
Out of the doubt that fills my mind,
I somehow find you and I collide.

You and I collide.


It has been a secret dream to have this song sung to me.
regardless,
this song will always bring me to a place of contentment. for four minutes and seven seconds, anyways.

Blood.

I was trying to be brave.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something meaningful.
I was shaking. I was emotional. I was holding back tears.

Now I just feel like an idiot. Of course you can't donate when you've got a cold.

Remember.

The radio sang and I hummed. The light turned green and I turned the wheel.  Suddenly the street elongated as if it was something out of a trippy cartoon. The cars seemed to slow down, or perhaps they were blazing by at the speed of light. I glanced out my rear view window, everything behind me was untouched by what lay in front of me.  The school bus continued to drop off children, the mailman continued to deliver letters.  I peeled my eyes away from the rear view and focused out the windshield.  As if it were out of a movie, all at once the sirens blared, the lights blazed, and the horror filled my mind.  Leaving not even a second to process what was happening I instinctively pulled the car over to the side and allowed the ambulance to roar down the road. All this within a few fleeting breaths, but it changed everything.  I don't know who the ambulance carried, or why they were rushing to the hospital, but it doesn't matter.  It happened. And for all I know, the repercussions of that moment are still being felt, perhaps they will continue to be felt for the rest of this mortal lifetime.  It is a sobering thought.. one moment changes everything.

It bothers me when people do not understand that everything matters. Events matter. People matter. Words matter.  Good and bad, every action bears a consequence. The phrase "time and space is the great healer" really pisses me off.  Probably because I know it's true, but I don't want to wait.  I want the pain to subside now. I wish humans could grasp that memories are real, and intimate, and extremely powerful.  [I'm writing this down because I believe memories carry some sort of emotional baggage and that weight upon the individual is both legitimate and worth exploring.]  The mind is able to remember minor details, able to hide pain from the individual. I do not think this is coincidental. But sometimes pain is triggered by a familiar thought, idea, scent, or scene. Again, I do not think this is coincidental.  There must be a purpose, I just don't know what it is, but I am going to find out.

One moment is all it takes.

and happy freaking september.