Our eyes met across the crowded room,
And I saw you like I always do.
So how did we end up like this,
A tangled, breathing mess?
You're hers, not mine.
I thought you shared a love
No one could define.
You told her
and she told me.
Our friends stared on
With apathy.
Confusion never seemed so cold.
Somehow she forgave me,
Forced away my portion of blame,
Even when you silenced her,
Saying you wanted me instead.
You argued she called your relationship
A broken toy,
But she still deserved to find joy
With some other boy.
So we're together now
Because I don't know how
To say no.
~*~
Based on a dream I had last night which rather perturbed me in the light of day, though I think I can point to the reasons why my subconscious threw this one together.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Monday, January 7, 2013
Deep Gnawing On My Flesh; Hear My Prayer
That old familiar emptiness again. That uncertainty of the future. That deep seated annoyance with pity or false encouragement. I'm not sure why I'm so bummed. I'm not leaving anything or anyone behind; I'll be back soon. Maybe because I don't have much to go to out there; friends gone or out of sight, last semester, graduation. I will never see these people again. Maybe I'm bummed that my parents won't be there when I take the stage. Which really isn't a big deal in light of the whole picture: 500 kids, each taking .5 seconds to cross the stage, shake the president's hand, and take a diploma. Maybe this is the first of many lasts, so already I am emotional.
It nears 5:30 as I write this portion now. At midnight, I tried sleeping, only to turn and turn and turn to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep in, to no avail. My mind is relatively empty, fearing and worrying over only general, vague concerns--the barren future that I cannot see, most immediately this semester until the end of my education where my career begins.
I know You have all this covered, that worrying does not add a single hour to my life; so why then does my stomach turn?
My thoughts turn now to random musings. Consequences. Will those begin now? How long shall I await Your justice for destroying one of your daughters, for violating the sacredness meant between married lovers? This loneliness cannot be a punishment; I cannot sow in the physical and reap in the emotional. I am frightened, but I know punishment is deserved.
Papa, why am I so empty? I keep looking for You, I know, but instead I write and pretend because I don't know love for myself--that earth-moving love that only You are capable of giving us, the one I write about so intimately though I can never know it for myself.
Is that my consequence? To never know that love? No, that is a lie. I know You; I will give Your love away as you continue to shower me with it, though I am deeply undeserving. But I keep myself sealed away, emotionally distanced from You, from Your children--why?
I need Your peace, my Father, my God, my King. I am lowly, capable only of prostrating myself before Your grandness. Will you grant this peasant her wish? To let go. To be happy. To be free.
I love You. As superficial and worthless that love may be. Still, You love me too. Thank You, my God.
Lonely. Maybe that's it. I'm lonely. How embarrassing. Why do I feel this way? I have friends, I have parents, I have comrades--all of whom care about me. I know that. So why...?
Papa? I need you. I love you.
It nears 5:30 as I write this portion now. At midnight, I tried sleeping, only to turn and turn and turn to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep in, to no avail. My mind is relatively empty, fearing and worrying over only general, vague concerns--the barren future that I cannot see, most immediately this semester until the end of my education where my career begins.
I know You have all this covered, that worrying does not add a single hour to my life; so why then does my stomach turn?
My thoughts turn now to random musings. Consequences. Will those begin now? How long shall I await Your justice for destroying one of your daughters, for violating the sacredness meant between married lovers? This loneliness cannot be a punishment; I cannot sow in the physical and reap in the emotional. I am frightened, but I know punishment is deserved.
Papa, why am I so empty? I keep looking for You, I know, but instead I write and pretend because I don't know love for myself--that earth-moving love that only You are capable of giving us, the one I write about so intimately though I can never know it for myself.
Is that my consequence? To never know that love? No, that is a lie. I know You; I will give Your love away as you continue to shower me with it, though I am deeply undeserving. But I keep myself sealed away, emotionally distanced from You, from Your children--why?
I need Your peace, my Father, my God, my King. I am lowly, capable only of prostrating myself before Your grandness. Will you grant this peasant her wish? To let go. To be happy. To be free.
I love You. As superficial and worthless that love may be. Still, You love me too. Thank You, my God.
Friday, January 4, 2013
G-dawg
So there's this gorgeous 74-year-old woman who lives across the street from me--been livin' there longer than my parents and I have been livin' in this house, and every time I come home, I make the effort to go talk to her. I always dread it at first because, well, I'm a sucky conversationalist (which doesn't even matter because our conversations are always great) and I hate phoning her (which is stupid because she always picks up and always tells me "Yeah, come on over!" or "Yeah, I'll be ready for you in 20!"). But of course, everything works out in the end.
Every time I finish a conversation with her, I learn something new and I smile. She's always telling me to count my blessings: I have loving parents who are still together (and I should always always always show them my gratitude), I wasn't born out of wedlock, and I have a relationship with Papa. Our conversations also almost always include knowing my relationship to Father because without that, I can't do anything. Now, I'm a Christian and Mrs. G's a Mormon, but our ideologies match fairly well. This time around, she reminded me to "La ti da"--whatever happens, happens--Hakuna Matata. Using humor in my future classroom (especially the much too near future for student teaching) and that adaptability will make my life so much easier.
Also, apparently I can buy really pretty cards at some place called Papyrus. Some of which are $20.
Anyways, another conversation, another lesson learned. Thanks again, Mrs. G. Love you!
Every time I finish a conversation with her, I learn something new and I smile. She's always telling me to count my blessings: I have loving parents who are still together (and I should always always always show them my gratitude), I wasn't born out of wedlock, and I have a relationship with Papa. Our conversations also almost always include knowing my relationship to Father because without that, I can't do anything. Now, I'm a Christian and Mrs. G's a Mormon, but our ideologies match fairly well. This time around, she reminded me to "La ti da"--whatever happens, happens--Hakuna Matata. Using humor in my future classroom (especially the much too near future for student teaching) and that adaptability will make my life so much easier.
Also, apparently I can buy really pretty cards at some place called Papyrus. Some of which are $20.
Anyways, another conversation, another lesson learned. Thanks again, Mrs. G. Love you!
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Dark Blue by Melody Carlson
~~~~~~SPOILERS (AND JUMBLED CONFUSION) BELOW.~~~~~~
Dark Blue revolves around Kara, who's been BFFLs with this chick Jordan since kindergarten. All the sudden, sophomore year, Jordan becomes a cheerleader and leaves Kara in the dust for her new popular crowd. The book deals with Kara's struggle of feeling so hopelessly lonely after losing her best friend.
Twenty pages into Dark Blue, I felt like I was reliving my high school years, and more personally, my struggle with severing a friendship--a sisterhood like Kara's. I kept finding parts of Kara's narrative that absolutely hit home for me. The one I remember most vividly was Kara's crying over realizing that her relationship with Jordan was over. Holy beejeebus, that was me. Totally, completely, awfully. Another time, Kara walked out of school one day, went back to her house, and crawled under her covers; I remember calling my mom to come pick me up one day because I couldn't stand how god-awful I felt and then I went to bed.
Luckily, like me, Kara ends up connecting with some other people and realizes that her codependent relationship, her utter obsession with Jordan, was unhealthy--a way to fill the gap. I remember that obsession, all of those frightening moments where she and I would try to avoid each other and hate ourselves for caring about what the other thought or didn't do. I still remember when she ran out of church because she couldn't handle seeing me; I still remember craving to see her, even though seeing her scared the crap out of me. But it beat the utter numbness, the complete loneliness I felt.
Anyways, Melody Carlson is a Christian author, so of course Jesus references abound, but I gotta say...I cried when Kara did, so touched by a message that she felt was just for her; I cried when Kara accepted the message, when she realized that her obsession was just to fill the gap we all have because we all crave our Savior to fill that hole. Basically, I cried a lot in this book--one chapter after another near the end. I don't really know if I cried because I knew Kara's feelings or because I was so happy to find out that Kara was going to find happiness.
Which kind of helped me realize that I'm not totally heartless or callous or hardened. Which is both nice and confusing. Nevertheless, after the desert I've been crawling through--or maybe the gorge I've been stuck in--and despite some water to drink--or brief glimpses of the sky--those tearful experiences reminded me that I can still hear You, still feel You.
On another note, I gotta say, I always fall for the dudes in books. They're always so dang cute, and this one was no exception: Edgar wins my heart this round, though if he and Ian from Identical showed up before me, I have no idea who I'd choose. Edgar wasn't even a love interest in this book, but he was so dang adorable--and heartbreaking. Dude, ya made me sob. I hope you make a random appearance in the next book.
The book has a nice conclusion where Kara and Jordan hang out again because Jordan's basically been ostracized, or on the verge of being so, from her cool kid crew. Kara, now with Jesus as her BFFL, doesn't have this overwhelming need to latch back onto Jordan. In fact, she kinda feels bad for Jordan, but she's not gonna go crawling back. To which I say, "Cheers, Brah!" So they're cool again, just like in my experience, but all the codependency is broken, also like my experience.
The next one, which is kind of a sequel and kind of not, is about Jordan. Apparently she "stole" one of her cheerleader friends' boyfriends. Which always begs the question for me--why the heck do girls always go after each other instead of the dude? Ain't nobody got "stole"; brotha made his choice to be a jerk.
Dark Blue revolves around Kara, who's been BFFLs with this chick Jordan since kindergarten. All the sudden, sophomore year, Jordan becomes a cheerleader and leaves Kara in the dust for her new popular crowd. The book deals with Kara's struggle of feeling so hopelessly lonely after losing her best friend.
Twenty pages into Dark Blue, I felt like I was reliving my high school years, and more personally, my struggle with severing a friendship--a sisterhood like Kara's. I kept finding parts of Kara's narrative that absolutely hit home for me. The one I remember most vividly was Kara's crying over realizing that her relationship with Jordan was over. Holy beejeebus, that was me. Totally, completely, awfully. Another time, Kara walked out of school one day, went back to her house, and crawled under her covers; I remember calling my mom to come pick me up one day because I couldn't stand how god-awful I felt and then I went to bed.
Luckily, like me, Kara ends up connecting with some other people and realizes that her codependent relationship, her utter obsession with Jordan, was unhealthy--a way to fill the gap. I remember that obsession, all of those frightening moments where she and I would try to avoid each other and hate ourselves for caring about what the other thought or didn't do. I still remember when she ran out of church because she couldn't handle seeing me; I still remember craving to see her, even though seeing her scared the crap out of me. But it beat the utter numbness, the complete loneliness I felt.
Anyways, Melody Carlson is a Christian author, so of course Jesus references abound, but I gotta say...I cried when Kara did, so touched by a message that she felt was just for her; I cried when Kara accepted the message, when she realized that her obsession was just to fill the gap we all have because we all crave our Savior to fill that hole. Basically, I cried a lot in this book--one chapter after another near the end. I don't really know if I cried because I knew Kara's feelings or because I was so happy to find out that Kara was going to find happiness.
Which kind of helped me realize that I'm not totally heartless or callous or hardened. Which is both nice and confusing. Nevertheless, after the desert I've been crawling through--or maybe the gorge I've been stuck in--and despite some water to drink--or brief glimpses of the sky--those tearful experiences reminded me that I can still hear You, still feel You.
On another note, I gotta say, I always fall for the dudes in books. They're always so dang cute, and this one was no exception: Edgar wins my heart this round, though if he and Ian from Identical showed up before me, I have no idea who I'd choose. Edgar wasn't even a love interest in this book, but he was so dang adorable--and heartbreaking. Dude, ya made me sob. I hope you make a random appearance in the next book.
The book has a nice conclusion where Kara and Jordan hang out again because Jordan's basically been ostracized, or on the verge of being so, from her cool kid crew. Kara, now with Jesus as her BFFL, doesn't have this overwhelming need to latch back onto Jordan. In fact, she kinda feels bad for Jordan, but she's not gonna go crawling back. To which I say, "Cheers, Brah!" So they're cool again, just like in my experience, but all the codependency is broken, also like my experience.
The next one, which is kind of a sequel and kind of not, is about Jordan. Apparently she "stole" one of her cheerleader friends' boyfriends. Which always begs the question for me--why the heck do girls always go after each other instead of the dude? Ain't nobody got "stole"; brotha made his choice to be a jerk.
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