There is something magical about the first couple of days that are full of blue skies and sunshine. I love having my bedroom window open and a breeze blowing in. I love having the sun on my face. I love feeling the warmth all around me. It makes everything in life seem just a little bit better.



I feel like I’ve been posting too much negativity lately. I’m not really a negative person, I think I’m just stuck a bit in life right now at the moment. Sorry. I’ll try to be more positive. For both you and me.

A Poem. Not Mine.

I’ve quoted a poem by Brittany before, I need to do it again. I came across a blog today, a young girl (well, same age as me, so maybe not so young, or maybe I think of myself as young still) who is going through a divorce. It made me think about my own past, and how, well, I don’t really think about it much anymore. Except for the days that I do think about it. In my blog perusing, I came across this poem tonight. I feel I need to share it. If I had the courage to put it in an envelope and mail it to the ex, I would. But I don’t. I always thought that one day I would write him a letter, and tell him my reflections. I don’t feel like I need to (anymore). Or maybe I don’t feel like I can. Maybe I’m not ready to. Maybe I don’t want to, because I hate it when thoughts of the past creep into my current relationship and scare the shit out of me. Not everything is a pattern, I tell myself (although I don’t know if I believe it). I don’t know. I just don’t know.

What I do know, though, is that this poem spoke truths to me just now. And so I share it with you (thanks Brittany).

If You’re Out There

If you’re out there.. somewhere.. reading this.
Know that I’m happy for you.
Know that just like I always did
I only wish the best the world has to offer for you.
Know that all of the hurt is gone.
And that even though the hurt is gone
I will never forget how it felt.
Know that I’ve forgotten the fights, and tears
the silent days, and the hurtful words
And when I think of us,
I think of the laughter,
the late nights spent on the couch testing boundaries.
The soft kisses, and lazy days.
Know that you got my heart racing,
and my blood pumping like very few before you.
And our first kiss, is still my favorite kiss.
Know that there are many things I love about you
And if the timing had been different,
maybe we would have lasted for eternity.

But you should also know…
You’re the only thing I regret.
And if I could go back and do it over again
I wouldn’t choose you twice.
And that even though the hurt is gone
I will never forget how it felt.
Such strong words; such true words. I don’t have memories of things and words, or at least many of them. I remember emotions. Emotions I never ever want to feel again. I remember feel little; feeling as if the world was around me, but I wasn’t there. I remember feeling as if I was ripped into a hundred million billion gazillion little pieces, and that no matter how much glue I used, I just couldn’t get them back into the right order. It just felt wrong. But I don’t hurt anymore; I don’t hurt because of you. I just remember. And I remember because I don’t want to experience it again.

Mixed Emotions.

I don’t know exactly what I want to write. I have a thousand little, or maybe big, emotions inside of me. All I really want to do at the moment is jump in my car and drive 845 km to see this boy that has been preoccupying my mind, my heart and all my physical desires.

It’s been a year since we first kissed. A year, yesterday. That first kiss very quickly became a first everything. I’ve never been so comfortable with anyone. Even now, if I just close my eyes and think of him, think of being next to him, with my head on his shoulders, there is this peaceful calm that comes over me. I’ve known for a long time, with an absolute assuredness, that he is something wonderful in my life.

And yet I haven’t talked to him for two weeks.

After every time we reach a new level in our un-relationship he goes MIA. Two weeks ago he met my family. He’d met some of them before, in bits and pieces here and there. This time he met everyone. Him sitting on the couch, my parents talking to him. This was followed by him meeting a lot of people I’ve grown up with. We enjoyed the night. I think about it retrospectively, and maybe I wasn’t there enough. Maybe he didn’t realize how much I loved having him there, how much I love him. I was nervous; we hadn’t seen each other for three months. Maybe he was nervous; maybe his nervous now. Maybe he didn’t actually enjoy it all; maybe he is done. Maybe he is just processing everything; maybe he isn’t processing anything.

What I know is that I can’t stop thinking about him: about how much I miss him again and want to be with him. But also, about how this pattern sucks. How it is probably a pattern that will stick forever; a pattern of non-committal. Boys? What does the boy brain say?

My brain tells me to move on. My heart tells me to give him more time.

I think about the last year. It’s been one good year. Should I take that year and move on? Should I hold out for a little while longer, maybe I can add another awesome year to it.

Just call me, dude. Just call me.


** ADDENDUM – May 31, 2011 **

I just re-read this post. Looking back, I feel I was perhaps being a little melodramatic. While I was definitely feeling all those things the day I wrote them, today, my heart is bigger than ever. It takes a little down to truly feel the up.

Choose what is beautiful.

From Lauren:

Be addicted. Be consumed. Just CHOOSE THE RIGHT ADDICTION. Choose what is beautiful. -32/365  

Why is it that I’ve always felt the need to be completely consumed? Why do I let myself become completely consumed (with a boy)? Why am I afraid of it? Why?

What can I do to balance things in my life? What else can I become consumed with?

Or should I just let life consume me?

No, I shall consume life.

I shall find what is beautiful. And then I will be beautiful too.


alone in my world

the stillness of the air

the beating of my heart

parts of me miss you

all of me misses you

i close my eyes

i can feel you near

your breath

your kiss

your nose

how is it then that i miss you more?

when is it that i will miss you less?

an imagination

an imagination that imagines you there

when i know not

whether you will be there


i know not

where your heart is

my heart is with you

it feels your hands there

it wants your hands there

it needs your hands there

my heart wants your heart




for always


A Way Out.

I need a creative outlet. I feel like there is so much inside of me that is just wanting to escape. This isn’t a new feeling. I’ve always needed an outlet, but have never really found a good one. I used to run. Miles and miles. Running releases the energy, but does not release all the emotion. While I have volumes and volumes of journals kept over the years, I’ve struggled with writing. I feel that my words are often very selfish. I write about me, about my feelings, about my fears. Most people do, yes, but I feel that I do it in a very selfish way. Perhaps it is just because I haven’t yet found the right tone or medium to excrete my emotions verbally such that they will be inspiring for others. Maybe that is my problem? I’m actively seeking to inspire. Or am I? Maybe it is just because I don’t want to be inconsequential. I want someone to know that I exist. I want someone to take stock in my emotional turmoil and want to invest in calming it. I have music, scenery, poetry. Maybe I am afraid of anything less than perfection. Maybe things are just so jumble-bumbled inside of me that I absolutely have no idea where to start. How do you translate abstract into tangible? How do you channel the emotions out?