Like lions we...wish to soar.

I couldn't help but notice...

The murky glass ceiling that prevents us from seeing the stars that aren't there,

The leaves on that tree growing indoors, how it changes with the seasons.

The cockroach amidst the oranges, heading for me and my solo,

The waiter, who's only as good as the manager if he's gay.

Those eyes like drawn out dragonflies, and a heartbeat translucent as its wings

Comes a still frame, with the contours of a blond chardonnay

So dry I tasted the kiss of unkissed lips,

A night without socks is a night without bowling,

A night with a guest list is the one night we decide to go nameless.

Love comes and lovers go,

Good times stay and heartbreaks follow.
Pride won't let us look back
But we're too proud to move forward, too proud to let go,
Just terrified of the fear that makes us vulnerable.

And sometimes...I just can't help but notice why that is.

Enough.

From the The Mexican...

Samantha: I have to ask you a question. It's a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?
Jerry: Never.

I remember when I first heard that quote and thought "They just described what love should always be like in a nutshell." But when you become the leading role to your own play, things never cease to be easier said than done.

I once couldn't figure out how to live with a thorn in my side so I ran. I ran away so that I wouldn't have to. But I'm tired of running because in the end I realized that I was just that - tired.

I'm saying this today because I'm hoping that if I give it enough time, that time will do me justice. That I am once again confronted with a dead end, with no solution in sight because I can't help feeling the way that I do and that I'm tired of trying to figure out why I feel this way.

We will keep talking about it, but nothing will ever change. When I realize that nothing changes, I will stop talking because I will feel like I am not being heard. But I will continue to try, to try and confront you because I am still hoping that time will be fair to me. That somehow the one person that I swear understands how I feel, will be enough to compensate for it - simply by understanding. But sometimes, two people with the same disease does not mean there is a cure.

So, I will swallow my pride and suck it up because you have been nothing less than worth it. But should it eat me down to the person I no longer am today, don't ask me how and don't ask me why.

Back to Basics.

I recently ran into an old post of mine and it brought me back to myself. A person can forget how strong they are, how far they've come, and how much they've accomplished. My point today? If I had risen above once before, there's nothing that's stopping me from doing so again. Strive to love, love to live, and live to let love in. Switchboard - let's bring this girl back to life.

(3 years back...)
Love is amazing. Falling in love can be amazing too, even when we fall too fast and too hard for our patience to catch up. What's truly phenomenal though, are the days gone by when romance was just a novel, a fantasy just beyond our reach.

Behind the attic wall, lies a secret - a universal secret that we all hold a key to our own. A key made entirely out of hopes and endless dreams. A secret we all share but never speak of because if we do, our dreams may never come true. As if dreams come true by tucking it away with our inner child anyway. The secret? To love and be loved.

When 'things' become too complicated and too difficult to handle, we often retreat and wish for simpler times. But when was there a time when 'things' weren't difficult, without having to look back? So we stand still in savasana, fighting the itch to turn our backs and plunge into denial, let the difficulty wash over us and drink in the benefits of yet another life altering piece of the freaking puzzle.

My point? I have no point. My inner child likes to ramble along to black coffee with 2 packets of splenda, no more. She's a badass that kid.

For mine, for he asked me to be His.

Listen. I met someone. He makes me want to run from this life right into the next. He makes me laugh. He makes me want to write endlessly about this invisible connection, this universal understanding. He makes me want to read. If I read enough, maybe I can read his mind. He makes me forget all that hurts because he hurts so much more - chasing the path of bliss in its full circle. He speaks to me in every song, as if he had personally hand picked each one for my ears only. He comes to me at night and traces over my skin in a way that shadows my own, because he knows me well. But he never stays, always gone before first light. And that first waking breath will always, always smell of him. As if he never left. As if being half way around the world can't stop me from missing him.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Wrong Answer.

I eye the door, anticipate the walk, release my last breath of courage before I turn the knob. I look into his face, searching, pleading that he might understand what I'm asking of him. But he has it so well guarded that the only way in was out that door. I hesitate, not wanting to walk away. For I know the second I walk out that door, I will never look back. I'll always wonder about that last facial expression...but wonder is all it will ever be. He won't ask me to stay, but he won't let go of my hand. I ask him one last question. He gives me one last answer and I could feel the scar run through my veins; the same veins that once loved him as much as the love it carried. Wrong answer, says my heart.

Lovesick.

Sick with a love that is as uncertain as the future and the sea of time that sits between us. For a boy who will come home when he is ready to a girl with who will chase the edges of the world to show him that she always has been.

If the world fell apart into a trillion little pieces today
I'd tell you that I'm glad things are finally falling into place.
That this conscious awareness of patience
Has been, all along, patiently waiting
To catch up to us from our past lives.
When we can wake up to each other one day
And see the new in all that has gone dull.

Little Miss Splendid's Best Friend.

Let me tell you a little something about my best friend Amy. We'll refer to her as A. For the longest time, I refrained from calling her my best friend and you'll soon enough know why. She was always just a 'friend', 'one of my closest friends', 'co-worker', or 'Amy, the girl I'm attached to by the hip'. Infamous A.

You see, I've cycled through best friends and lovers, commitments and flings like a good load of laundry. Some I've dumped and some I've been dumped and all due to this scary little pest we'll call 'attachment' aka 'dependence'. You know what they say - marriage is the death to any relationship no matter how passionate. I guess deep down, I was afraid to call her my best friend even though she was because I'd grow attached and with attachments comes commitment problems. With categorization comes obligations. Things that best friends are supposed to do together or for each other. And getting mad for no reason. And expectations. Because you see, it was also never like that between us. Which is probably why we were able to become so close. If you were to compare it to a romantic relationship, it'd be like being in a completely open and non-exclusive one. Free to take on other best friends and knowing that there are indeed other friends without the whole jealousy and 'we're not spending enough time together' crap. We hang out whenever we feel like it and we don't necessarily always have to do anything - which is probably why we keep running around in circles.

I've also never called her my best friend because - well because I was scared that if I grew too dependent, that I'd chase the friendship away. That I'd start having ideal expectations and realize that maybe she isn't my best friend when she didn't live up to them. Of course, no friends should hold any of these expectations. But like any other relationship, the feelings come with the territory. I knew that we wouldn't always have each other to lean on and one day, we'd go our separate ways. So why even play the whole categorization game? She can stay as long as she wants in the 'friend' slot and leave whenever she feels like it, no explanation required. And by then, I talked about her so much that everyone just knew who this 'Amy' person was even though they've never met her.

But in actuality, she IS my best friend. She's become the best friend of best friends. No one can say how long this friendship will last. No one can say how long any relationship will last. But I guess I'm ready to invest in this one...and I think I have for the longest time and was just afraid to acknowledge it, comforting myself by thinking that if I don't acknowledge her importance, I wouldn't feel the weight of devastation if this friendship ever came to an end.

I think being away from her has put our friendship to the test and realizing that things never changed even though we're both pursuing different paths. We both wish we could have each other to share our journeys with. But I know that deep down, we're even more proud of the fact that with our lives apart our friendship still stands strong. And that my friend, is the exact ingredient that continually feeds this bond - knowing that it's strong enough to withstand distance and time.

And that's the story of my best friend Amy.

This was written about a year ago and the friendship continues to thrive to this day, stronger with each passing day - together or not. See you soon - let us discover what this Winter Wonderland is all about.