He watched my chest blooming red filigree while I watched his smirk knowing he saw what happened beneath my skin. That electric purr running along my veins, racing the arteries to get to my heart, the organ he quickened. I knew from that smirk spreading across his face that all of it underneath the soil was cropping up, growing. He had buried it deep inside him where he thought I couldn't see. But here's the problem with someone who knows about blooms across skin and smirks across faces that hide things in marrow and bones: I know what's buried deep beneath, there is no hiding from a hider. He said he was scared, he hid his face in the pillows and told me I scared him. My favorite complement, next to "you're a challenge." I felt my eyes brighten. I knew I had him from that first kiss and I knew every time he plunged a little deeper under my water from all those looks. His eyes sometimes flickered like sunlight across a sea while he looked at me across a table or from the corner of his eye. His laughter had become a wild horse set free to roam across the moment and all my stupid silly doings.

"Should I not have told you?" I asked his lips while they pressed into mine, easier to say while our eyes are shut.
"No, yes." He stuttered, eyes still closed to keep me out, keep it all buried deep, but I already knew. "I love you too"
"I know."

Maybe I am cocky. At least I'm always spot on. Or have been so far.

bleeding hearts

Stolen breath like when I was seven and running on the playground in winter. My asthma was bad then. The moment has continued on now for two hours and shows no sign of ending. "no news is good news." hah. Tell that to the families of 49 people who didn't get news. Tell that to the boy in bed with me, who had to call the airline because we got no news. His heart ripped from his chest because we trust that everyone will be safe most of the time and really have no use for worry. We're the ones other people worry about. We're the trouble makers. That split second that stretched into the better half of a week. A week that felt like another world, new jersey really is that far from everything else. And how my hands went numb and my head hurt because it was too much work to keep everything still. That was the instant I realized I need to worry too. And now I worry too much.

And here I am worrying and wondering and hoping and really not hoping at all because hopes up means dashed hopes and I never get my hopes up so instead my mind goes to the worst possible outcome which means I'm crazy and all I want to say is I love you and I didn't get to. Death is the scariest for those left behind. It would be awful to not get your chance and die young but you're not conscious of it after you die. The ones left here are the true sufferers. Or maybe we're just selfish.

I don't know but either way there are knots in my digestive system and a headache rolling in like thunder clouds because I just found out that you're okay and I feel guilty for being such a bother.

Starbucks pinpoint

"Good Morning, venti americano, right? What are you doing up so early?"
"Morning, yeah, drove my boyfriend to work."
"Venti Pike Place, that's your boyfriend right?"
An amused giggle escapes me because I never thought this would happen, a barista knows my order. I guess the little signs in Starbucks are right. I mean, I remember what external hard drives people buy so I guess it's not that far fetched.
"Yep, that's him."
"You both must have a lot to do, with so much coffee every time."
"No, we're just a highly caffeinated couple."
Highly caffeinated some days to make our bodies go and our brains catch up and other days, highly caffeinated just for fun, to watch the aspirations and ideas and cynicisms fly around like wild limbs.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

It's so hard to figure out. We don't need to though. There are no rules, no set guidelines to how things should be. I'm pretty nervous, scared, worried, most of the time because I'm afraid I'll mess up or do something out of order or wrong. I should be applying to grad schools, studying for the GREs and taking them and I want to, I'd love to go back to school, it will just take more effort this time around and the thing too about it is that I'm good here, I'm settled, I feel like myself most of the time and I'm pretty happy I think. I don't know though. I don't know for sure. Here's one thing I really know for sure: I need to start taking a yoga class, at whatever cost, the benefits so severely outweigh the cost, it's important. I need to do that. The other thing is that I need to set aside time each day to write. No more waiting around and sitting. I know I keep saying that and talk is so easy, so cheap. It's more difficult to actually do it, to sit down and do it.

I'm scared, terrified really, of this whole big everything, all of it. I'm not even sure what it is, where I can gain some footing or grounding, it's just going and going and I don't hate it at all, I like it a lot and think it's pretty great but is it? I don't know, should I just keep on keeping on until something goes wrong? Is this it? Am i really at a point in my life where I'm concerned about being with the wrong person or being with someone and he not being the person, my person, and thus wasting time? I mean it's not even wasting time, that's dumb, it's the least waste of time, but the clock is ticking I guess. I don't know. This could be it. Maybe. There aren't any rules. I guess I have to keep reminding myself that. There is no right or wrong way to do it. There's just doing it.


I really want this:

here is the
deepest secret
nobody knows

i want it to peek out over the hem.

here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life.

I really really want a good conversation with a stranger. Maybe I'll go sit at cup o joe before work. Get some stranger time in. Do some handwriting. Read on my kindle. Maybe. Why not.

two years two years two years

two years ago you fell. right. out. of. the. sky.

and i didn't really believe it at first, i kind of hate myself when i think about what has happened. and how things happened and the way it all went. i remember him putting his black t shirt on and it didn't matter that he wore black every day because that day it was on purpose for a reason that mattered. he hid inside his bed and couldn't even cry i heard his screams, shrieks, like it was being pulled out of him, his heart, out from his throat and through his mouth. like there was nothing i could do and i knew there wasn't. i couldn't touch him. i was afraid to get too close. afraid to be the thing that made it worse.

i sat on our couch and watched cnn for hours, mesmerized by the sounds and images, it felt so false. so. unreal. sometimes i think, what if you hadn't died, would i still be with him?

would we be getting married? would we be in thailand? following his dream?

you helped me realize myself more than almost anyone else in my life and even in your death you have helped me grow and be better and realize even more about myself.

two years two years two years two years.

two years ago the sun spread its fingers against the sheets, telling us to pull them back.

two years ago, we both woke up at 1 am, stood up, looked at each other and felt strange without knowing what had happened and we got those texts from our friend. who had heard the news about a plane and asked if we had known anyone on it.

two years ago we got up in the morning and panicked, we weren't sure why until we picked up phones and tried calling and there was no answer. it was all so unsure. no one could give us an answer.

but we knew.

we knew.

the birds, brilliant and bright and beautiful, had fallen. the mourning had come.

deeplakesea

i want to look into you and say: "I'm sorry, this is who i am, i sabotage shit because i'm more afraid of commitment than you are and sometimes, no mostofthetime, i ruin really good things outoffearoftheunknown. I overreact. a lot. I exaggerate and I cry because I'm not sure how to deal with these feelings, this unknown thing, I hate the place where it's so unsure and unknown and I feel like there are things you owe me but there aren't at all, you owe me nothing, except occasionally a kiss, i'll take that, thanks. Look. i'm sorry. I am, I am really sorry. Here's the difference between dating for one month and dating for four, it's the same difference as "I won't sleep with other people" and "I don't want to sleep with other people." Are you starting to see where I'm coming from? I just wanted to know, I think I deserve to know, just to have a little heads up from you saying you were busy. That's it. I just needed an "I'll be busy later" and everything would be absolutely cool as a cucumber. I'm confused because it hurt me, and I care, and I feel stupid for caring and I don't think I should feel stupid for caring.
But I can't really say that to you right now because you don't want to talk to me, or rather I told you I didnt' want to talk to you and you are honoring that. Maybe giving me time to cool off. Why are you so level headed? Why are you so accepting? Maybe this time will be the time you aren't. Maybe I have ruined it. I think I've been trying to ruin it for a while now and you haven't let me. I think I have a problem with letting people get in, close to me, closer at least.

My heart hurts like it's been stretched apart and pulled until it can't take it, like taffy although unlike taffy my heart cannot pull forever with strain and no breakage. i am not elastic or flexible like that. it hurts. and it pulls. and i don't want to care, i never wanted to care this much, but here i am caring, and it feels stupid, i feel stupid, and i don't think i should feel stupid for caring at all.

crying would feel better. maybe.

is it me

I don't even know why I care, I mean, I guess I care because I feel like I care about him. I shouldn't be in this position again, hurt and crying over someone else. How do I get here, always? It must be me, since I am the least common denominator or is it greatest common factor? Either way, I'm it. I do over react. I do get crazy. But don't get my hopes up, don't make me think that I can put hopes in you, can trust in you, and then completely blow that. Don't act like I'm something more to you and then act like I'm just someone passing through your life. I am not bullshit. I am the least bullshit ever. Take me seriously. I deserve to be let in, I have earned the right to be let in.

My patience is wearing thin and I think it might be time to move on and away. I don't know what to do. My heart doesn't deserve this recklessness.

lakes

"What is it about being submerged in water that's so alluring?" you asked me while slipping down into your lake-blanket until you had a hood. You looked like a fish under the surface, your eyes like glossed pebbles rippled in the sunlight's reflection. As you resurfaced I clamored in the back of my mind for an answer to give you.
"I think it's something having to do with the womb. Like how we were submerged in that goop stuff for nine months so we crave it?" I feel uneasy around you, like walking in light-up sneakers again after three hours of roller skating at Johnny's birthday party in fifth grade.

"Goop, gross." And you dunked yourself again in a crystal layer. When you come back up it drips off your skin like melted wax rolling down a candle. Coated in the lake, you glisten. Skin so dewey I could drink you.




...i was thinking about lakes and swimming and felt like playing with character androgyny

vintagemagictrunk

if only i owned a magic trunk full of amazing clothes that i could just jump into and pop out all dressed and adorable. if only. if only.

i need to go through my closet soon. let me know if you need any dresses, i'm sure to be getting rid of quite a few.

TUT

Dear Universe,

You've been sending me e-mails recently, well, every day for a couple months now. I feel rude because I haven't sent one back yet. Here's the thing, I'm not so sure how to contact you, there's no reply address on the email. So what I've decided to do is to just write this out and send it to the great expanse, the world wide web. The thing that really rattles me though is what if you don't get it because clearly you are not part of the world? Being larger than the world, will you get it?

Oh, conundrum. Here's what I'd like to send out to you though universe: I really appreciate the amazing people you've led me to lately and the incredible opportunities. I really really really appreciate the affirmation that writing is not a hobby for me, it is something I can really do. I love that I have a great job with great people, thanks for putting me here to get to it. And thank you for the things I think are bad too, the things that hurt and make me mad because I think I'm stronger now.

Can I ask you for a few things now? I'm going to put my desires out to you in hopes that they will happen, you know this law of attraction thing? I'd really love to live in a great apartment in a great location by myself, I really want to find something good. I know patience is a virtue, I just don't possess much of it. It's better to be honest right? A full time job would also be incredible so I can easily pay for said apartment. I know money isn't happiness but money makes things easier sometimes and right now easy would be good. Maybe help me fix my schedule? I'm panicking about it even though I know I shouldn't.

Oh well. Thanks for everything universe, you've been pretty great to me so far. Much appreciated.

best present at present

the best gift i ever could or have received is my mother's pride. knowing she's bursting with it, about me, and telling her friends with a puffed chest makes me the happiest. it's better than any piece or token bought. feeling like i have made them happy, proud, fulfilled their beliefs in me, it makes me feel like i did my job as daughter. providing the truth to their ruthless and soaring belief in me, that i can do everything i dream of doing. i'm pretty lucky to have parents that are behind me and lift me up so much. they really are my biggest fans and cheerleaders as cliche as that cliche is, it's true. i'm sorry it has taken me until now to realize how lucky i am. is it weird that my family has become my team, my best friends?

"love love is going to lead you by the hand." love has always led me by the hand, gave me the nudge and courage and then the push out to do it, and the backing off so i can do it myself and the proud happy voice on the other end of the phone saying "i knew you could. I've known you're great all along, now other people will know too."

making them happy makes me happy

published

Guess who's gonna be published!? This girl. a local Columbus magazine is doing a feature on me, with a bio and photo and everything ... eeps! I'll be sure to grab a bunch once it comes out to show off my fame, of course.

I'm on cloud 9 right now. nothing can ruin my day. Seriously, I put one email out there into the world, made a new friend, am getting published and have potential freelance jobs opening up to me.

The world is my oyster, I'm the pearl. Who says you can't call yourself a princess? Now I need to go break the news to my kiddies that I'll be leaving in two weeks and sticking around to do community circle. I think they'll take it alright. I hope. Kids are resilient right?

It doesn't even matter. I can barely feel my limbs I'm so excited - yeah, I know right? Ridiculous but true. I'm all tingly and in love. I forgot about it, this feeling, this love love love of writing. I keep ignoring it but the point is it's part of me so deep, it's in my veins, and if something comes that easily to you, is such a challenge at the same time, why stop that love affair? Why call it quits because one of you can't commit all the time? Isn't the chase the best part? I've been chasing writing since I was seven and I'm not bored yet, I don't think I'll ever be.

Hello, Filigree, hello new friend, and opportunities. Hello life that I always knew I could have.

teaching

They looked at me, eyes big wild crumbs and full of challenge. I love that look. It pulls deep down from inside me, this string of information and the hardest answers to give. That forced feeding of information makes me feel alive. I prefer the older crowd's type of challenge though to that of a middle schooler, I have discovered. It is far too easy to believe the kids should listen to me simply because I am older. That's dumb. I knew it was dumb when I was their age and I don't blame them for thinking the same thing right now. I appreciate the way adults look at me, seeking knowledge and trusting what I say but also challenging me to give them the right answers and to take care of them. They rely in a way that is more demanding, less hopeless whereas the kids rely on me without knowing how or why or what for, all they know is they need a hug and to yell a whole bunch. Sometimes I'm all arms and ears and good words so it's okay, but I'm a person too. A person with a lot of shit going on. A person who is asked to transition from adult needs to child needs with no break for me in between because I need time to travel. A person with her own shit happening in both places and before and after and all around with barely any time for herself. A person who thinks that it is important to give as much of herself as possible. Why can't I keep doing both of these things? Why can't I keep giving myself to people and wearing myself out? Can't I just drink more coffee? Sleep a little less? Take time for myself at night once everyone is asleep and the snoring next to me has steadied so I can pull out my computer and write a little bit? When do I get a break? a hug? some time to yell?

Where's my shoulder? I guess I have two of my own. But both are weary. I have two ears and both are full, my head is aching and my eyes are closing, it's barely evening. My heart is exhausted and my energy zapped. I've spent too long expending it.

sometimes i get sad

sometimes i get sad, too sad. sometimes i get really angry and make things up and i get confused and think my brain doesn't work right because sometimes i think i don't know who i am. maybe i have just forgotten though. i have this obsession with knowing who i am and i think i need to take a break from all that thinking about it and just feel it. i am who i am. nothing more nothing less. i am who i am and how i am and it's right and good and perfect because it's all i've got. i'm not hurting anyone with how i am, at least i don't think i am and i hope i'm not. i have people who care about me and like who i am. i can always be better but i think i'm doing a good job right now.

more action though. definitely more action. i need to stand up a bit more. sit down a lot less. and do some shit. i need to spend more time alone i think. i really know that actually. i do need more time alone.

ZEST!

when did i lose my zest? my stupid creativity? that zeal to do dumb shit like make a big huge board game and wear stupid dumb costumes to regular parties and carry toys in my purse for friends who need a pick me up? WTF where did i go!?


I just want to come back.

my family

this is my family, my uncle dennis, my aunt jan and my dad, and their two parents my nana and papa. i was looking at this image earlier thinking how beautiful these people looked and how real. i don't know if it's the lighting in the photograph or that they've been my family for so long that i've never seen them in a different perspective but i like it. they look good and i'm glad to share genes with these intelligent beautiful cultured individuals. family is my favorite thing, the whole concept and idea and everything about it makes me feel right and good.


------i just got an idea. for the story i have in my collection of the woman who loses her husband and has a 2 year old. what if it's closer to kristi's story, what if this isn't a WOMAN but a young woman and what if he's not her husband and she doesn't get anything because he never made a will but this is her child's father... and I should really start changing the way that child talks to be more realistic, more like sadie. i love that i want to fix it now, that i'm getting deep back into my book. i love that i'm plunging. here we go. what a rabbit hole.

and here i find myself

hiding between the rock and the hard place, or rather the pillow and the smile. no, that's not right. between the grass and the ocean? the shell and the fish? one stagnant, one moving; one soft, one depthful; one mobile, one - a hard place. Here I have found myself and I am fairly positive I have belayed myself into this position. It doesn't hurt for me, doesn't feel uncomfortable most of the time, and I'm fairly certain that most of the time it is good albeit confusing. Here I am, regardless. The mobility of things around me and the potential mobility of people around me causes my legs to either remain stagnant or do that thing like in cartoons - they wind around in circles as though I'm running fast but I'm really not going anywhere just using a lot of energy. I make a lot of noise. I've realized that I require opinions and advice and aid in my decision making. I'm going to stop that. I need to meditate more and quiet the voices, here only mine and feel the truthful answer of what I really want. I need to hear that resonating and telling me what I should do rather than accepting everyone's opinions as a compilation of "life answers: the greatest hits." The water keeps rising and their answers don't help it lower any but when I hit a moment of clarity my lips are able to purse above that salted wave and suck in a bit more air. The goal is to find a rock to perch on. Then, to make that rock a sail and ride it through the rest of my life on my decisions.

Things I'd like to do in some sort of time frame that is at this moment indiscernible:
-travel a whole hell of a lot, before children, before a husband, on my own, and then with those people because traveling is good with love
-have one more really truly passionate great immense love (who are we kidding, probably more than one)
-find the path that will lead to the rest of ever
-FINISH THAT BOOK. THEN START A NEW ONE. SEND IT OUT TO PUBLISHERS.SERIOUSLY.NOW.
-be published. in anything. see my name on a page that is not one i printed.
-continue to allow my heart to guide me, it's been doing a pretty good job so far
-realize when i need to take a break. and take it. it's okay to slack off.
-look up at the stars more often, they're pretty great.
-make more friends, more real friendships, and hold onto them.
-eat more oatmeal
-less skittles ...
-learn to decorate like an adult
-find a job that will give me money to decorate like an adult
-find a job that will pay enough in money and passion
-learn when enough is enough
-learn that i can't save everyone. no matter how hard i try and that saving myself isn't selfish.
-cuddle more during the day.
-think about growing my hair out, decide i don't want to and cut it even shorter.
-get more tattoos, i know mom, i know, but i like them.
-do the things i wanted to when i was 10 years old. (find that list)

there are far more things I'd like to do but i think i can accomplish many of these this year and I have to go get ready for work. Yesterday I didn't want to leave to go to my other job. It's hard. It's hard to be responsible for people other than me. I don't want to be dishonorable but I just don't know if I can do it anymore. I'm not sure at all.

don't discount your dreams

quitting is going to europe for three months and that's not even quitting and you have the option to do that, don't tell yourself you don't, you can do that right now if you want to.

working a full time position and not saving people's kids is not quitting by any means. you've worked hard for a long time, take a break. you've earned it.

-thanks dad.

Morning grumps

Without even knowing it he has created a routine for me to get me writing again. To get into a routine for the first time in fact. And he mutters under his breath the whole time about it but that's because he has no idea how I benefit. We wake up at 5:30 and he says "I just got home and I have to go to work again? I need a new job" Every morning. "I need a new job." Every night. "I need a new job." We've been looking. Jobs are hard. This morning we got up, I told him I'd smother him so he'd suffocate and not have to go to work and as he said "do it" he kissed me and we sat up in bed. The streets are orange at that hour. Orange from snow and lights that reflect upon it, orange from left over drunken stumbles and smiles that turned into something else whether pursed lips or scowls. We get in the car and the whole time he grumbles "I need a new job" "is it really that temperature? It must be colder" Both of us bundled in our winter gear, I can't put my arms down, hardly. We park in the lot where I drop him off and he kisses me longer than usual this morning. Longer and slower like if he keeps kissing me he won't have to go to work, like I'm the line that will pull him from the water. I can only hope my existence for him will be that profound. So I kissed him longer and slower, harder, putting all my caring and good hopes into his mouth. I tell him to try to have a good day. He gets out of the car and starts his walk and I think to myself "I could have parked closer" but then if I had, would he have kissed me that way? "home" that's what he called my place. His things are in my car. I know it's hard but he's getting used to the idea, I think. The idea that I might not be the worst, that I might be good, that I might not hurt him the way he's been hurt before that maybe I've been hurt that way too and I know how rude it is to do to someone. I think he's getting used to the idea that I care a whole lot.

so here I am. taking advantage of this opportunity to write and get into a routine. I'm not sure what I want to do with my life ... I keep telling myself I'll tackle that problem later ... social work. I think. I think I know that much. how or when and if now or later is completely beyond me. This is not something I should deal with right now. Maybe tomorrow.

snow fall

all i'd like to do today is sit in bed and look at stuff online and contemplate what i should and should not spend money on and download new music and get cds so i can make people mixes and set up my idisk to back up my photos and daydream and watch movies.

yesterday was the best day off ever. monday funday. did nothing important and had so much fun doing it.

i think things are going really well. i feel good about it all.

death

i remember now
in my dream a good friend died.

maybe it was my past beliefs dying since she and i no longer talk? maybe it was my childish ways dying?


..... oh dreams why so elusive?

dreaming

last night i had this dream in one of my dream places, it's a pretty intricate dream place that i won't get into right now. it grew over time and revealed more to me and as i got older i realized that my dream places are connected. so I was in this one part of it that is really 3 parts and when I was younger it was scary but this dream was interesting because i wasn't younger in it and i wasn't scared, i was my current age and i wasn't trapped i was "just visiting." visiting my uncle, i think that's what it was. and it was an entirely new perspective on the whole place, not scary at all, i saw it like you see shadows when you're older, shadows you thought could swallow you when you were younger (am i the only one who actually believed that? wild imaginations). it was interesting and revealing and no longer scary to see things as they really are. it made me wonder if that's what I'm doing in my life right now. Seeing things as they really are rather than glossing over with a smile and saying it'll be great! you can't force people to want what they don't want even if you yourself are amazing. you can't force people to want something or to change or to be who you want them to be. that's a bad thing to admit, but it's true that i had done that. have done that. for quite some time. it's done now, time to be over with that. jealousy is an ugly animal.

there was something else but i don't remember it right now.

oh woe is me

I'm so down in the dumps it's stupid. I need some proactivity but instead I'd like to just fall asleep for a little while and avoid it.

I know the hand is there to catch me but I hate that I need it sometimes. I know you're there to help me out but I want to do it. I want to be able to do it and I can't. Do you know how frustrating that is? Do you know how frustrating it is to be this way, to feel this way, to have experienced the things I have and to have no one to lean on and talk to but myself? It's overwhelming and having to deal with your shit too makes it even more overwhelming. There are ways around being the go to person, everybody, even for yourself, said Buddy Wakefield but he forgot to include what those ways were and how to acquire them.

Just a year ago everything was so easy. There was so much hope. So much love and excitement. I was free a year ago, let J go and flew on by myself only to find someone else and here I find myself, alone alone alone. Maybe I'll start working on my book again. That might make me better.

Here's to hoping. Here's to shmucks and being one.

a little advice

here's what i'm gonna tell ya and you don't have to respond, just sit there and listen for a minute because this shit is important:

hope is for suckers.

reading in the park is better with someone else than alone.

sunshine is never as bright as you want it to be.

the grass is green no matter where you are you're just not looking at it right.

bon iver is for broken hearts and only for broken hearts.

promises are the worst and sometimes it's better to ignore everyone else.

being alone is lonely unless you like who you are.

you're bored because you're boring.

hope is for suckers. suckers who believe that they deserve good things and not to be hurt without realizing everyone gets hurt, everyone knows that pain.

let's drink wine tonight and laugh, not be sad at all, sit on the floor and talk about real shit and laugh just like we used to. oh i just need some fun i think. especially before the work week marathon begins, no day off for two weeks starts tomorrow. something's gotta give here doesn't it?