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He was laying next to me in bliss, floating away from worldly thoughts.
"I need to ask you a serious question," I said firmly as I rolled gently in his direction, "and I want you to be honest."
I pulled my body close to his, looking away.
He responded calmly with a simple "Okay.”
I started talking before my mind knew it - "I won't be upset by your answer, I promise...have you slept with anyone else since we…"
He giggled. "No, I'm not this stud that you think I am."
I sighed partially with relief, yet I knew better.
"I really want to get more physical with you."
Looking deeply into her eyes, he fumbled with his coat in the passenger seat and kept his hands busy.
She smiled softly and the words that left her lips were sweeter than caramel.
"It's okay. We have no reason to rush. You'll feel more comfortable as time goes on. Believe me, this is all pretty new to me."
"I'm so rusty, Zoey, it's been years since I was dating."
"Me too. 4 years. That's why it's ok. We're in the same place."
They hugged one another and the fear was gone.
Perhaps it sounds odd to note that I feel happy to have discovered that my presidential candidate of choice voted against the very legislation that provided me with the comfortable career I have today.
Or one could see it as a sign of the times.
My employment reflects my financial inability to follow my dreams. It is indicative of how I have sold out. I gave up my values for a paycheck.
Had he supported this piece of legislation, it would have led me to doubt my support for him.
I will sit at my desk and ponder this tomorrow.
It was a wonderful night. It was the greatest night in my romantic memory.
The first date.
We walked to the door and I was in a dream state.
What should I do now? It had been so long.
The usual banter about having a good time.
Then I did it. I moved lightning-fast and planted a smooch on his cheek, then proceeded to run up the stairs to my apartment complex before it had even registered in his mind.
"...uh...thanks for that!"
I turned and smiled, "You're welcome," and shut the door.
It has been three months...
In three months...I could have started an exercise program and whipped myself into shape.
In three months..I could have studied for the LSAT exam.
In three months...I could have picked up my guitar and strummed away, re-teaching myself to focus on my own world.
Three months of loneliness have passed and I can't get think of anything I have accomplished within that time.
I have successfully gained weight, lost sleep, and missed him. I’ve also morphed into a woman that I never wanted to be.
When he speaks, he speaks to me. His words dance off the surface of his soft lips and embrace my eardrums
My inner alarm for bullshit does not sound off as the words set blazes through the neurons in my brain.
Change is a word that I have always held deep within my heart.
As early as memory serves me, I know that I have had continual discontent with the status quo. I learned how to display my discontent in small ways.
My quest for large-scale change has been fruitless.
I have been putting this off for much too long.
A great deal of complications have managed to cloud my usually clear head, and I have been in absolute denial.
I guess that I figured if I didn't have a written record, I could pretend that none of these thoughts had ever occurred.
However, due to my very social nature, I have shared them with my friends. Thusly, they are now real and tangible.
I feel utterly powerless in this relationship.
Each day that passes by is a reminder of how I have no influence over him.
He doesn't value my opinion or care about what I think, and certainly isn’t concerned about himself and his well-being.
He suggested we take a break. He suggested we get back together. I was rendered powerless.
But then I just feel so scared.
I feel like I am about to take a step into mud and crash hard on my ass, sliding down a steep hill to my eventual demise, paralyzation, or at the very least, nausea.
I feel like my current self desperately needs to catch up with my true self - the person I know I have the ability to be.
I've been slacking...for a long time...
A fantasy world of my own creation has taken hold of my logical mind, and I feel like I have just realized that I have the strength to pull away the sheath that has been covering my eyes.
I don't blame him. I don't think he intended for me to lose my sight.
For some reason though, when we were together I couldn't look at the world clearly.
An awkward sense of bliss.
Until logic finally kicked in, I was the most uninhibited and silly I’ve been in years.
I was making good decisions for some time.
Recently, however, I’ve made at least a few poor ones…
…or perhaps the problem was that I didn’t stop to make a decision at all.
I just rolled with it.
Then it all came to an abrupt halt.
Fear seems to be the lesson that taught me not to play dumb anymore.
…and I started to doubt everything that I thought I knew.
I’m done. It’s just not worth it.
So the defense mechanisms are kicking in, I see.
Nothing will come from this but pain, you’ve realized. Now you are concerned and determined that you need to withdraw this person from yourself completely.
You’re disappointed in yourself. You let your imagination run free and pushed your logic aside. You are smarter than that, and you know it.
Looks like it is time for things to get ugly. You’re going to hate it, but it has to happen.
Going, going, gone.
You’re still in denial – having arguments with yourself in your mind.
You need to end it. Get out. Now.
“Yeah, I’ve got some plans. I’m heading out to the bar later with Kris.”
Silence. A package of linens making a soft thud onto the countertop.
“So…what’s going on between the two of you? Have you been talking?”
Plastic wrap ripped apart to expose the dense cotton.
Shuffling silverware in brown plastic rows.
Clearing of the throat.
“Yeah, I just don’t want to rush into anything, and I’m, y’know, I’m enjoying my freedom.”
“So you just haven’t been communicating with her?”
White knuckles rolling knives and forks.
Nostalgia hit me for a moment.
On my mattress with no frame, sprawled across the width of it with my feet in the air, I reminisced.
Car tires and loud bass, along with the squeals of young people hoping to bring mayhem, were the sounds that filled my ringing ears.
I was suddenly transported to my first days, feeling excited at the prospect of perhaps finding my true self.
Then I was quickly pulled back into now - and the realization that I am leaving this town and this life behind.
My body bears witness to what I lived through.
I almost always prefer a day bursting with sunshine and energy. Then there are those rainy, gray days that can be filled with lush imagery and deep emotion. The days that foliage is so green and the air is so thick with humidity that dry land seems to have been absorbed by the sea. I even look more poetic on these days. My light eyes reflect the white light of a cloudy day by looking nearly transparent. My skin radiates with a warm aura of softness. Generally I prefer the bursting sunshine. Too many days are spent moping in sorrow.
I can never keep up with my thoughts. They make me feel anxious and out of place.
That’s exactly why sometimes...I just let them go and ignore them completely.
Take tonight for example.
I had planned to get some sort of information...something...
And I got nothing. I have no better idea of what happened and why then I did three months ago...wait, two months ago?
It just felt so natural. So comfortable.
Hanging out and talking to him comes so easy. It’s just plain crazy.
The two beers didn’t help either...probably intentional on his part, or so I’d imagine anyway.
I sat and stared at the computer screen, wondering where to begin.
What are the wheels that I have set in motion? What are the consequences? The circumstances? What have I done?
Shock. Utter disbelief. No fucking way...
I got really messed up tonight. Hadn’t expected any of that.
My life is full of so many intense moments. No plateau. But, as John mentioned, “How would we ever enjoy life if it were a plateau?”
What. Do. I . Do. Now?
Think. Think. Think.
The impulsiveness is what gets me in trouble. Something I need to focus on.
Had a crazy dream last night. My Omi and I were laughing hysterically together in a room, I can’t remember why, unfortunately, but I remember being worried that we might get in trouble. Shortly thereafter, my aunt, or someone similar, came in and gave us a look (it felt like we were high or something) and we just kept laughing! My cousin Melissa saw us and started giggling as well. Telling us, “You’re going to get in trouble...” or something similar. Then I woke up.
Yes, I admitted that I was hurt previously, but I don’t want to appear completely weak and defenseless.
Here I am again.
Tears welling up in my eyes. Feelings of hopelessness.
I can regulate my emotions satisfactorily, but I can’t control them.
The tides of my moods swing far above and below most folks.
I’m scared to lose that high tide.
I like when I feel manic and world-conquering. It’s a great feeling and I think that is where my creative juices really flow.
The low tides are when I have done my best work. I look back at art I’ve created and pieces I’ve written…the best I’ve created was when I was suicidal.
It’s a damn shame.
Ever since she died, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. All the times I should be thinking about her-you were there instead.
Every day, I see/hear/read something that I want to share with you.
Every day, I think about the time I spent with you.
Every day, I wonder what happened.
Every day, I think I will never meet someone that I have so much in common with.
Every day, I worry that I’ll wander the world alone because you couldn’t get your shit together.
Every day, I wonder if you are my soul mate.
But, oh God, I still think about you. I still wonder what it could have been like. You hurt me deeply because you mislead me and made me think you felt one way, when apparently, it was another. I thought you adored me. I thought you were willing to put forward an effort to be with me. I was wrong. You were lazy, and I was a simple rebound. Something to distract you. All you have to do is get off your ass and put some effort forward. If you’re ever ready, or possess some courage, drop me a line.
I put up a wall so high that I couldn’t even see around it.
I numbed my heart until I forgot it was there.
Then I proceeded to build up such a massive amount of blissfully ignorant hope, and consequently crashed – feeling tears-tears that I swore would not fall-as they went rolling down the apples of my cheeks.
I don’t want to cry for so many reasons.
And yet, I know that they have to come. I have to let them well up and gush out of my eyelids. I am forced to embrace them - otherwise, I may self-combust.
Generally, I prefer the sunny days.
But...once in a while a lush, soothing rainy day is nice.
The days where the air is thick with life and the earth is a velvet-covered landscape. The grass resembles a schoolyard of children swaying in the raindrops and the mud cuts around the sidewalks and curbs like a protective barrier hugging its curves warmly as it speeds by.
The days where life is a living movie, a surreal fantasy world that seems too hazy and tragically beautiful to be anything but a dream.
My eyes reflect the gray sky as the clouds reflect off my pupils like a mirror.
The water came quickly.
A wall of force surged across the field and the foundation rumbled under our feet.
The foundation was strong - years of experience had encouraged us, well forced us, to plan for the worst.
Problem is, no one can prepare for the unthinkable.
I can remember how sore our arms felt as we grasped the frame over the front door. Letting go would have meant we'd drown in the 15 feet of water in our living room.
In our house. The house we built on 20 feet of foundation.
No one could have prepared for Katrina.
Took a "personal journey" over the weekend. Frankly, it felt like I cracked my skull wide open and digested a whole lot of information. Also, every landscape I saw looked like an oil painting. Bright, lush, scenery captivated me. Unfortunately, the usual nausea accompanied this and was worsened by the fact that my stomach had already been acting up earlier that day. However, through my deep thoughts, things in my life became clearer to me and I was able to process them in a much more thorough way than I generally allow myself to do. It was a beautiful experience.
Swirling thoughts and foggy eyes.
Toothaches, heart palpitations, and stiff joints.
Ahhh...the joys of aging.
It is really too bad that we don't appreciate our bodies until they begin deteriorating.
We just want to look like an advertisement.
The natural sway of our hips will soon result in a large cracking noise.
Our bright eyes will soon be dull and shadowed by loose eyelid skin.
Our hair will be gray and brittle in the coming years.
Our metabolism will slow and we will gain weight from simply looking at a hamburger.
Yet none of us can appreciate what we've got.
Ignorance is bliss.
She marveled at the thought.
How mind-numbingly easy life could be for such a large percentage of the populous.
Standing, posing really, she surveyed the crowd.
The sheer and utter monotony bored her to tears.
Turning to face her reflection in a pane of glass, she sized herself up.
Feeling neither good nor bad about what she saw, she accepted the fact that she always "felt different" than most of her fellow homo sapiens.
She couldn't remember one moment in time that she had experienced a sense of "fitting in."
Maybe it was something she’d never experience.
My foot taps rapidly against the thin gray carpet below my desk as my fingers are sent flying over the keyboard, and I speak a mile a minute. Such is my day at work. Today I have made it worse by ingesting entirely too many stimulants. I look like I am on a coke binge, and I speak like a crackhead. The other option would’ve been to fall asleep. I like to sit and listen to people as they "kill 'em with kindness" as they sit there, squeezing their stress ball like they're about to bust the damn thing. Brilliant.
Luke gave me 16 hugs and kisses after we helped clean up the kitchen.
Sister Soup invited us to the "sister circle" on Monday.
There are dogs everywhere.
The devastation surrounding the camp has caused me to feel as if I am in a sci-fi movie where the apocalypse has occurred and we are the only humans left.
Vic and I got "pain release" today from Terry, an older Native American who used his energy to relieve our aches and pains.
We’ve been welcomed so warmly and although a day has passed, it feels like we’ve been here for years.
Driving through Alabama…trying not to generalize.
Started our trip on a late note yesterday. Luckily, the conversation amongst us was fantastic enough to compensate – topics ranged from the Da Vinci Code to dreams of civil disobedience to getting arrested. We are “soul road-trippers,” as she put it.
I’m realizing how hard it is not to stereotype while I drive through the Southern U.S. I did notice that folks are mighty friendly. I also noticed that the graffiti flaunts statements like “white power.”
It feels like fate wanted me to make this trip. Fate wanted me to know these amazing women.
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