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.