it comes and goes in waves

i have swam inshore enough to only feel the gentle lap of your absence. with the sun’s illumination i find seashells beneath the foamy trace of a wave and bask in my wet footprints trailing after me.

i am not drowning in solitude without you {as I was last year};

i am not treading water with no end in sight.

but on occasion, the moon shifts and the high tide rushes in, dissolving my infinite footprints and collection of shells, my intricate sandcastle and sandy soft towell.  the undercurrent, with its invisible power, is towing me out to sea where wave after wave crashes and crushes me.

 the sea weed is entangling my reasons.

bubbles of promise are bursting.

the lulls have s t r e t c h e d into weeks between impact, rather than the initial mere minute breaks between walls of water. every wave is different, unpredictable.

missing you

it comes and goes in waves.

but what is constant is wanting to be with you, in the mountains, far away from this ocean.

no one else but you.  

stay tuned september

i am un-original in this idea. i may or may not have stolen it-- heavy on the "may have".  perhaps it's now the trend in blogging? i'm unsure. 
but while i am a thief in this regard, i believe it shall be interesting. hopefully insightful. and a blast of fun. 
i am beginning the "30 day music challenge". according to the rules, for the next 30 days i shall dedicate a post to a certain song, as pertaining to this list: 

day 1: your favorite song

day 2: your least favorite song

day 3: a song that makes you happy

day 4: a song that makes you sad

day 5: a song that reminds you of someone

day 6: a song that reminds you of somewhere

day 7: a song that reminds you of a certain event

day 8: a song that you know all the words to

day 9: a song that you can dance to

day 10: a song that makes you fall asleep

day 11: a song from your favorite band

day 12: a song from a band you hate

day 13: a song that is a guilty pleasure

day 14: a song that no one would expect you to love

day 15: a song that describes you

day 16: a song that you used to love but now hate

day 17: a song that you hear often on the radio

day 18: a song that you wish you heard on the radio

day 19: a song from your favorite album

day 20: a song that you listen to when you're angry

day 21: a song that you listen to when you're happy

day 22: a song that you listen to when you're sad

day 23: a song that you want to play at your wedding

day 24: a song that you want to play at your funeral

day 25: a song that makes you laugh

day 26: a song that you can play on an instrument

day 27: a song that you wish you could play

day 28: a song that makes you feel guilty

day 29: a song from your childhood

day 30: your favorite song at this time last year

i'm starting wednesday (september 1)
stay tuned.
no pun intended

time to share the thread

i wrote this the summer after high school. it's been stowed securely away on my computer since. i thought it was time to share. i originally intended it to be lyrics to a song i was composing, but i never could get the melody in my head to match the keys of the piano.  

“Stitches”

How did we end up here?

How could we have known?

You were my one and my only…

but I was just another girl

Did I fall too fast?

Was I just a fool?

Did you ever even care?

Please lie that you still do.

So where does the blame lie

And whose fault is it

That we fell apart and

my heart is broken?

I’ve sewed myself up,

But you’re tugging at my stitches

I’m coming undone when you

kiss her lips.

It started so fast,

and ended so slow.

I still wish you were here

But I need you to go

But where does the blame lie

And whose fault is it

That you lied and escaped

While I’m left behind?

I can’t sew myself up,

My heart’s too broken to mend

I’m coming undone.

I’m coming undone. 

I’m coming undone. 

Please don’t kiss her lips.

not by the hair of my chinny chin chin

the date was thoughtful. well planned. he was courteous and kind and funny and smelled good. he bought me delicious pizza and cheesesticks at fat jack's in pason. he drove me to santaquin for the surprise activity-- shooting. i shot a 9 mm, shotgun, 22 rifle, and the BIG one-- a 270 rifle. it nearly took off my shoulder.  he drove me to beautiful salem pond where his uncle conveniently has a vacant home. he brought along firewood and a blanket, marshmallows and s'more supplies, all to set up the perfect seduction scenario. 
ah!!! 

first date first date first date

as he was propped on his elbow with a grin, i kept staring heavenward, silently praying that he would not go in because i would turn and it would be an awkwardly terrible refusal.
i started shivering. thank heavens for the cold.
we went inside to watch the only movie available--  the grinch who stole christmas(with jim carrey).

he may have forgotten that he told me about "the perfect plan to guarantee a kiss"

the plan: 

{which he claims to be fail and fool proof}

put arm behind girl's lower back.  she's not very comfortable, so you reposition. somehow or other you end up spooning. the boy then props himself up on his elbow to peer un-creepily down at the girl, who then turns and they kiss. fireworks not included.  

what does he do immediately as he sits down next to me? slides in the arm.
oh gosh. 
i was terribly uncomfortable, but i was not about to be spooned on the first date. no sir!
eventually he did move his arm, wrapping it around my shoulder. at comedic moments during the film he would laugh and then look at me with big eyes. perhaps it was rude but i avoided eye contact at all costs. he was already getting pretty fresh with me for a first date. i wasn't about to have him steal a kiss, too.

the culminating moment came after the movie ended.
while he locked up the house i stood outside, looking out at the beautiful pond lit by the moonlight with the giant blanket wrapped around me to halt the brisk summer night air.  i was rather startled when he wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder.

internally, i was freaking. out.
the most repetitive thought in my frantic brain was:

i don't want to be this close to someone. 
i don't want to be this close to someone.
i don't want to be this close to someone.

which is unusual. i love to cuddle and hug just about everyone. i'm one of those touchy-feely people.
perhaps the anxiety erupted so violently because i sensed his genuine interest and knew my lapse in caring. or perhaps because i realized i did not want to trust him. or perhaps because the only man who has ever wrapped his arms around me from behind was huntman. and i felt safe there. not anxious.

it takes a degree of trust to allow a boy to take you out. you obviously trust them enough not to unhook your bra or leave leave you destitute in the forest to be a bear's next meal.
i had that trust in my date.
but at the moment his arms encircled me i knew i did not want to lend him more trust than that. that thought haunted me on the drive home, and since.

i am the little pig in the house made of brick.

once upon a time i had straw walls. the big bad wolf is a dangerous thing. he came knocking and huffing and puffing, sending me scrambling for cover. 

so i laid brick after brick, taking care to cement any holes and keep the chain on tight. 

i let huntman in. he helped mend my cracks. 

other boys have rented a sledgehammer and broken off a few pieces of brick.  

i won't let the big bad wolf in again. 

not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. 

cloudy with a 95% chance of men

the forecast for the month: a continual downpour of men.

 there wasn't a cloud in the sky before, but as suddenly as utah weather shifts, my life has shifted to accommodate cumulus clouds of boys.

there have been some interesting interactions, to say the least.

such as:

tobacco boy.  

it is 5:30 in the a.m. this boy, who works on night crew, approaches me. i'm paying him no attention as i'm clearly working when he starts in:

"i have a silly question"

"what's that?" (i avert my eyes. the oatmeal is already churning in my stomach. . .)

"are you single?"

blasted question. of course i am. i was in a wedding all yesterday to remind me...

"yes... i'm single"

why didn't i just lie?!

 yata yata yata.

i can't recall what was said {as evidenced by the 'yatas'} because my mind was racing with perfect responses to that dreaded question. it was far too early, and i am not a morning person.  i feel some justification in that my synapses weren't all firing prior to sunrise.  all my wonderful responses lit up my amygdala (the fear center) after the fact. blast.
do not fret though. i am not going out with this creeper.  turns out, he's a real winner. as in, his own brother, cousin, and acquaintances all forbade me from going out with him. this boy, michael jordan maag {no, i kid you not, that is his name} has been in and out of jail. plus he chews.  and i'm not talking gum.

cuddle boy.

once upon a time i went star gazing with some friends.

a simple fact:

star-gazing leads to cuddling.

it's practically a law of the universe.

 i discovered this.
it wasn't during star-gazing but after.  when we gathered up the blankets to clear out. he wrapped his arm around me, enveloping me in a warm blanket. i was cold so i did not protest. he left his arm around my shoulder for some time, pulling me closer and closer until we were practically hugging. i love to cuddle. it had been such a verrry long time since having a boy's strong arms around me. *sigh*
cuddle boy then insisted i ride back with him, in addition to securing our seating arrangements next to each other for the ride home. he slumped to rest his head on my shoulder  but the bumpy canyon prohibited such a situation. after some time and heavy eyelids, i let my head roll beneath his neck and he rested his head on mine. after stumbling with sleep out of the car he called me to the pavement with his arms outstretched. mmmmm. boy hugs.

may i point out, that clearly, he has been the bold initiator of all of this?

i tried not to think anything of it but truth be told, the oxytocin released in my brain had me all giddy we cuddled.

{don't believe me? read the female brain}

 "when it comes to men and women, not all cuddles are created equally.

A 20-second hug floods the female brain with oxytocin, which creates such a sense of connection... 

men also release oxytocin through affection and tenderness, but their brains are more apt to link it to sex." 

(quote from review of the book)

the next day my friend jeff tells me he talked to cuddle boy. and  cuddle boy told jeff he thinks i like him.
i found this incredibly irritating -- this pompous boy believes i have legitimate feelings for him when he clearly initiated everything and it was cold and i was tired?
plus, i was informed that 3 days prior to star gazing he was making out with an 18 year old until 5 in the morning. classy.

remind me not to hug him for 20 seconds, so as not to trust him.

ladder boy.

i fell from a ladder and he caught me.

 kidding!

but close. . .
i was, in fact, on a big orange ladder when ladder boy and another co-worker walked past, whispering and laughing.  i descended down the steps and caught their stunned silence at my presence.

"what were you guys talking about?"

i asked with raised eyebrows.

"nothing"  

ladder boy chimed as our fellow co-worker laughed, calling to ladder boy as he walked away, 

"you're on your own man"

by this point my curiosity is definitely peaked.
i kept pestering him. finally he said,

"well, we were thinking that if he shook the ladder and i caught you you'd have to go out with me"

brilliant smooth man. i laughed and played along.
then he said,

"if i promise not to be creepy {in reference to tobacco boy}, would you go out with me?"

i was taken aback.

"seriously?"

"seriously"

. . . . . . 

"okay!"

"great!"

and that was that. we're going out tomorrow. it will definitely be an adventurous date. he's keeping me in suspense of the activity.

lumber boy.
there's really no story here. i met him yesterday at work.
he transferred from colorado.
he's tall and nice and nice looking;
easy to get along with and from first impression, a hard worker.
i definitely like him as a human being and there could be interest in mr. lumber boy. but it's much too early to tell anything. i know his name and his apron size, and not much else. i'm content that he smiles whenever he sees me and stops what he's doing to talk. good, right? we'll see.

i have enjoyed the blue cloudless skies and sunny single-hood
but... 

with more clouds rolling my direction,

  i can't object the humid overcast and potential storm.

scrapes and bruises

i am supremely tired. my body is encumbered by lack of sleep and groaning with fresh and fading bruises and scrapes. the past 2 weeks seem like a complete blur-- events jumbled and reality somewhat fuzzy. but as i inspect my sore somewhat mis-colored legs and various tan lines, i can't help but smile.

bruise 1

culprit: vacuum.
story: i was vacuuming my now-old room on the last day in my apartment when the dear vacuum toppled over, the handle catching me squarely on the thigh. ouch! it's a nasty bruise, now all yellow and green and gross. but aside from bruising, it's been good to recoup from summer and prepare for the glorious months of fall just around the corner at my sister's vacant house.

scrape 1

culprit: rocks
story: while floating down the provo river atop inner-tubes on an overcast day, we ran into some rain. or rather it snuck upon us. and froze us. and then we ran into trees and over rocks and down the river. we tried to stop to avoid the bridge, but as we threw our feet into the frigid rushing river the rocks stung our numb feet and the current nearly took us. so we climbed aboard once more, teeth chattering and bodies convulsing in shivers. a nice boy lent us his raft, and nigel and i climbed in, cuddling close for body heat and to prevent hypothermia. we were laughing nearly the whole time.

tan line 1

culprit: sunshine (obviously)
story: i went on a road trip to the beautiful land of alta, wy with 3 friends. we laughed-- a lot. we played games, we watched movies, we looked at the trillions of stars in the black night sky, we braved the rocky terrain of the mountain with 4-wheelers, but most adventurous and thus, the main point of our trip-- we went river rafting down the snake river. we all hung face-- meaning, you hold on tight and stick your face out front of the raft while riding the rapids. nigel and i were soaked by the big kuanga. it was marvelous. i also saw huntman's family at church which filled me with such joy and hope it's not quite adequate to mention here. i love them. especially his parents.

scrape 2

culprit: car door
story: upon returning from the weekend road trip, nigel drove up to my sister's home to find a mysterious car out front. and then walked in to find the back door wide open-- she turned right around. we called our friend ben to come save us, and called in some officers, as well. they popped out of bushes and behind houses to come to our aid. they surveyed the house and inspected the closets and beds. no one was home. they checked the plates of the mystery car. turns out, it was my sister's cousin parking her car there for safe keeping. whew!

tan line 2

culprit: sunshine (again)
story: my work had a luau today-- a lovely summer party. i am on the "orange embrace" team so i have been planning and preparing for this day for many a month. as the sign captain, i had many signs to make for the luau, including a life-size cut-out of a surfer dude and hula girl.  well, it's been a busy week, but i was planning on completing everything in one shift. however, when i got into work there were several orders to be filled... like 26 signs for windows. and 10 for shingles.
i didn't even start painting until 9 pm.

my darling store manager {thankfully} locked me in the training room to keep me safe from night crew boys while i painted until 2:45 in the morning. then i worked another 10 hour shift 6 hours later.  i am happy to report that the luau went splendidly.  once the rainstorm blew threw, the skies were blue and oh so clear and the sun shone down brightly, giving me a little bronze glow.

 {the finished product}

there are other stories i wish to share {most comical, regarding boys} but 

they must wait for another day because sleep is ordering my surrender. 

watch for falling dichotomies

dichotomy: a division into two especially mutually exclusive or contradictory groups or entities 

 i have a dichotomy. up until last night, i believed they were mutually exclusive-- one or the other. never both, because that would be perfectly impossible. logically, i knew they weren't mutually exclusive-- that in order to live happily i needed to have both {for the time being} but...

after a frank therapeutic talk with my big brother over homemade green curry, he helped me realize what it is i need to do:

bridge the gap

 install ropes and pulleys and metal so the two dichotomous entities can coexist. and most importantly, internalize it. because, i haven't been handling this whole thing well. (although i am doing a bazillion times better than i was a year ago in the state of happiness and acceptance).

i have created my own pressure, my own restrictions, my own offenses.

i am to blame.

it was so much easier to fend off that responsibility for my tears onto anyone or anything but myself.

it is difficult to pry open long-closed eyes to view my weaknesses, my patterns. but viewing from a third party perspective, i am glimpsing my mistakes and the weight of such a responsibility, as well as my fragile justifications and finger-pointing. i am realizing the necessity to own my reactions, to recognize my emotions.

because we all want to be mentally healthy, right? 

i have pushed and distanced and retaliated because my soul wouldn't allow for the survival of both dichotomies.
but
today is the day where i let go of guilt and wanting and needing.
i have to let both survive.  if i sever one i will resent the other, and then where would i be?

construction starts today. 

complementary

we are complementary on the color wheel.

you are green. i am red. 

or is it the other way around?

you tone me down and i fire you up.

i agree with your depth of hue, accepting your tints and pigments. i dispense your base and gloss. we coincide splendidly.

would it be too much to blend?

you think so. sometimes. and i'm too stubborn to volunteer that i want to mix. to shake things up.

so, for now...

we'll just be friendly complementary colors.

moving on

i am moving.
apart from lugging around boxes and realizing how much i have accumulated and must move alone, i find my long-lost earring underneath my bed. that is exciting. but it doesn't quite rival the excitement of moving on. 

 only, this time i'm a little sad to leave it behind-- summer, the dear friends i have made, the apartment i have loved like no other apartment, the space. . . my space, where i have done so much growing in the measly summer months. 

when i crossed the threshold {back in april} with armfuls of socks and books and pictures, i was looking for hope-- hope that i could be happy and forget the unforgiving months of drudgery and self-doubt. that i could find myself again in a sterile environment, engineered for growing beyond my own self-imposed limits.

i've done just that. looking back at the person who moved into this apartment is vastly different from the girl who will be leaving.

i feel satisfied with my friendships, past and present. even the ones which were halted, and especially the ones which have blossomed.

it has been a good summer. i still have a few more weeks to squeeze in some memories; i intend to be as spontaneous and impulsive as possible... within reason, of course.

reading between the lines

i love crawling into a book.

 forgetting what's outside my window and creeping into another world entirely.

often times i believe the characters are real. that if i fetch an extensive enough yellow pages, there they'll be--  ginny, caulder, & smitty. matilda & mr. watts, frequently called popeye. katniss flanked by peeta and gale. and of course, i can't neglect looking up janie and tea cake-- check in on them, along with the rest.

to me, their story continues past the written word. my subconscious forgoes their fictitious nature due to feeling: they feel real to me.  as i am introduced to a character i laugh and cry and hurt with them. i see how my static first impression is rounded by experience and growth. i grow with them, learning things i could never any other way. they have become a part of me, just as any friend does. they are my friends. i want to know how their story is evolving, today. i question their motives for this and their reasoning for that yesterday.

with their story bound together, it's a simple task to read from beginning to end and fill in the details along the way. in my hands i hold their account, their outcome, the causes and events.

it would be grand to have a sneak peak at the final chapter of my life. to know what decision i can make today that  might lead me there. i'd even settle for a few lines at the conclusion of the current chapter i'm writing

but alas, 

c'est la vie. 

{such is life}

i better get back to typing up my story. tomorrow's a new day with no room for backspacing what's already permanent.


*i am beyond obsessed with the hunger games books. i have to pace myself: go to work. now eat food. now pack up your bedroom.  okay, now you can read.  
isn't it wonderful to fall in adoration with a book and its characters so much so that most nothing else matters? 
bliss {in a nerd-like fashion}

belonging and bare feet

"i don't want to belong to anyone"

....

"and I don't want to be responsible for someone else's feelings"

- nigel-

i don't lament being single. 

truly.
when you really think about it, it rocks! recall the barefoot analogy?{you really should read if you haven't yet}

luscious liberty, i tell you.

now, going back to the above quotation....how true it is. and how similar i feel.

i am not ready to belong to anyone. 

belonging. possession. not an ideology of i-own-you but the reality that you are giving up the rights to your heart. they hold in their hands your every vulnerability; that, in cause, gives them a startling amount of control. in addition to a piece of your heart.

which is why it's quite preferable they stick around, so you don't feel parts of you missing.
fortunately,

the heart compensates-- its kidnapped parts regrow,  like the liver. 

. . . i still have a void.
thus, i am not ready for any more belonging. on occasion i wish i was ready, but clearly, i am not.

and responsibility? 
overrated.

i can hardly be responsible for myself, let alone another human being. i don't want to feel guilt or sadness or happiness because of someone else, or have my own emotions make an impression on their own.

so, i'm staying barefoot

for the time being

&

thoroughly enjoying myself. 

{this picture has nothing to do with anything, but i loved it}

i have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms

the time has come to put the past behind me.
i have left the door open for you far past the life of my watch, catching a chill time and time again while wrapped feverishly in this hope: hope that you'll see me differently-- come to your senses and realize i'm the one you want. i'm the girl who could make you happy, who you could truly love.

and even though i know it's in  no one's best interest  for you to want me and i to want you... i want you to recognize that you once did. that perhaps,  once upon a yesterday, you envisioned us rocking old in our chairs and laughing into our wrinkles, together.

i want to hear you say that i meant something-- that you wanted me in your future. that you thought somehow we could leap from friends to love, where we would communicate like adults but giggle like children. that we could establish something real, something worth commitment.

but i can't ask for that closure from you. because there is a void of communication about such things now, as there always has been. that bridge's construction is aborted indefinitely; the rushing water would whisk us swiftly south to consume our flailing bodies in the rapids.

we would be drowned in yesterday.

i need to breath in today.

 6 years ago the long saga began-- you held my hand. such a simple act but at 15, i was blinded by you. shielded from your imperfections i only saw the reflection of my own. 

all along i thought i wasn't enough {for you}
not pretty enough.
not popular enough.
not too-many-things-to-name enough.
never enough to be the girl you want, really.  a suitable substitute, for the moment; like margarine for butter.

after that ended, we weren't friends.
but you came back.
i was enough to keep on the side, and we were friends once again.

6 years. . . .

 6 years of fluctuations-- frustration, laughter, glances, distance, anger, hope, denial, tears, dancing, hurt, love, and . . .
i realize {now}: what we had was not substantial. not the steak-and-potatoes i need but rather a nice appetizer-- satisfying, but only enough to dull the hunger pains.

i also realize: you are not enough {for me},  either.

i may always love you with my 15 year old heart but i have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms.

6 years cannot disappear overnight but i am closing that wide-open gate as well as shedding the blanket of hope {for you and i}. it is imperative that this door remains closed.

if i have to nail and wire and glue and staple and weld it, i will. 

we are not enough for each other.

neither of us are to blame. 

when i see you happy with someone else, i might experience a twinge in my memories and a fresh bruise to an isolated corner of my heart. but regardless, i sincerely wish you to find the girl of your dreams. it is not me. i can accept that, now.  i do hope you find her.

it is wonderful to feel enough for someone. i feel that from huntman. i feel more than enough in his arms and letters and eyes and voice.

 

he is more than i could have envisioned possible in a man. forgiving my stupidity and the uncertainty of the remainder of his mission and arrival home {in approximately 11 months}, he makes me feel everything i couldn't with you.

i've shut the door on you and i. 

{please, don't softly rap on the door or come pounding or ringing.} 

i'll be waiting at the window, watching for huntman to throw pebbles and to flash his brilliant smile that tells me i am everything to him.