Abortion, Welfare, Genocide, and everywhere in between

“These people walk by a widow deformed by leprosy begging for a few paise, walk by children dressed in rags living in the street, and they think, "Business as usual." But if they perceive a slight against God, it is a different story. Their faces go red, their chests heave mightily, they sputter angry words. The degree of their indignation is astonishing. Their resolve is frightening.” --- Life of Pi

There has been a shift in our country. The people have moved away from the leaders and whether it is from distrust or displeasure, the evidence of this shift is blatant as we watch the circus that has become the Presidential Election. The contenders are numerous and have begun their fights earlier than many have ever seen. We are already looking to the future with such unabashed joy that people have chosen their favorites for president a full year before the election. All this is to say that there is a shift. The world has become smaller through technology and information has been made readily available to the public like never before. Our generation is educated on the world but with knowledge comes responsibility. This past weekend, I was with my mother and grandmother. I asked my grandmother if Americans knew about the Concentration Camps in WWII. She said they had heard rumors but no one knew the extent until the American soldiers opened the gates of the camps and saw for themselves the horrors of the Nazi regime. Fast forward to present day, me sitting on the couch and watching CNN. There is a genocide going on in Darfur and we are doing nothing about it. America- the land of the free and the defender of democracy- doesn’t give a crap that thousands of Africans are dying by the hands of their own government. Oh wait, actually we do give a crap. You see, good ol’ George has called this government out in meetings – while they sit in the back and laugh at his condemnations- but the problem is this: They have information on terrorists and somewhere along the line information about terrorists is more important than preventing genocide.
But that’s not where my rant ends- If you were worried that I would leave out the good faithful people of the Church, rest assured I have condemnation for them too. Where is the church on this? Why aren’t we doing something about it or at least praying about it? When I feel frustrated and lash out at the newspapers- something that happened yesterday morning- my aunt calmly says the only thing we can do is pray about it. Even more, the only thing we can hope for is a Christian President because he will know the right thing to do. Bullshit. A smart president will know the right thing to do. A president with good advisors will know the right thing to do. A president that cares more about the people than oil would know the right thing to do. Christians believe their purpose is to save souls, but what souls are there to save if people die? This reminds me of a dichotomy I should not bring up:

Abortion and Welfare.

Say it together.

Christian right- very much against abortion and welfare. Now, why, might you ask, would they want to save the babies of woman who can’t afford to have the babies in the first place? We shouldn’t give out free birth control because that contributes to promiscuity and we shouldn’t have abortion because they shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place and we shouldn’t support welfare because people shouldn’t be having kids they can’t afford….

I just gave myself a headache.

So, I can already see the comments on this one. I know I shouldn’t be looking at people; they aren’t perfect only Christ is, but when did that become a scapegoat to personal responsibility. When did the fact that a reincarnated divine being living a mystic existence in your soul allow you to be exempt from caring about people, or, even better, pretending to care. This is why my mother is one of the few devout I can bare to stand. She does care and she goes multiple times a year to places across the world or to her next door neighbor and proves that she cares.

All this to say that I think we need to act more. I don’t know how to begin but I think that if the Church wanted to do something to change the world they could begin by spending less time on evangelizing and spend more money on the needy.

There. Done.

Something Good......

"Obviously I believe the RCC is true. If I didn't, I wouldn't be Catholic. For me, it represents the fullness of Truth, insofar as we're able to perceive it in this life. Other people find their Truth with a capital "t" in other places. If my path is true for me, and yours is true for you, maybe we're seeing little pieces of something bigger than either of us. I like the fact that Catholic theology allows for this, and at the heart of the matter, salvation and who God decides to give that grace to is a complete gift and mystery. Asking a Catholic if they're saved will probably get you a puzzled look in response. The right answer is, "I don't know!" or "God only knows." There's no positive assurance, but there's hope in God's limitless mercy. This is stuff that keeps me coming back, Sunday after Sunday through all the bullcrap people like to sling at each other in the name of orthodoxy."

http://bigumuse.blogspot.com/2007/05/cfoyc-part-3-salvation-other-religions.html

In regards to France:

I feel as though I’m running full speed towards the edge, waiting for the moment when I sprout wings.

In regards to Home:

Like an outfit that doesn’t quite fit and isn’t your color, I feel out of place and, at times, blaringly so.

In regards to Love:

I don’t want another goodbye. I don’t know how to be genuine without being cliché and I don’t know how to hope without being naïve.

In regards to Family:

God, I miss them already. England showed me what I’ve got and now I’m realizing what exactly it is that I am leaving behind.

In regards to Friends:

I couldn’t be happier. I am closer to more people than I have been in my entire life and I love it.

In regards to Life:

My friend Keil said it best this weekend: “Things are amazing right now. In fact, they are so amazing it is making me nervous. I have never felt so good and I can’t help but wait to be brought back down to reality.”

I don’t have time to wait for the other shoe to drop. I am jumping in to the life I’ve been waiting for 21 years to live. I am happy and I am content, but most importantly- I have peace. I feel as though I'm traveling down the road of life; I don't have all the directions but I know I'm traveling in the right direction.

"A mix of real life, story, poetry, and thoughts from one smart cookie."

I'm beaming....

Thank you Daniel

Mon anniversaire

Seventeen and grubby knees outside the dorm room window on grass
That stained the dreams in adolescent heads and stars which burned
Closer than the sky had ever been with tiki torch lighting the way
Eighteen and pulling scabs on knees to feel the pains of growing
Heat with air pressing in tight watching you walk backwards
From a heart that bled all its years forever and a day today
Nineteen and hello, goodbye blink open eyes seeing it all
In front and behind the door and this girl then a woman
Wanting more but wondering what all they would say
Twenty and flying oceans dream in gingerbread castles
Filled with a bubbly word it drank on vodka and novelty
Live life watched only from distance a movie screen away
Twenty-one and crash American dreams create kaleidoscope
The twist and shape your colors bend the lights in my foresight
The perfect memory where ought and naught all that is left to say
Twenty-two and mirrored numbers meet to watch I fly ocean again
The balanced title that devises even days and nights ahead in perfect
Symmetry to whisper après moi a woman that needs not break or fray

So.......

I'm working on a new chapter but I've committed to writing on this blog at least every other day- which I haven't decided is good or bad for my writing- but, either way, I'm going to write something now, because, well, it's that time again kidos.

*that has to be one of the longest sentences ever recorded by man....in fact, I'm sure it is.

Stuff I've been thinking about lately ( because I'm sure you want to know )

1. Whether I should stay in Europe forever or come back and go to Law School. Though, Pat thinks I should stay in europe, and since I sometimes confuse his with the voice of God, I'm leaning that way.

2. I've been working out ALOT lately...that and studying my LSAT material. In fact, it reminds me of the days when I focused on school and health because I was ambitious and driven; instead of now when I just live in a REALLY boring town.

3. I Feel Fine by the Riddlin Kids has been on repeat in my car. I'm not sure why exactly but I think it has something to do with a previous conversatin where I said "I'm fine being single" and he responded "No, you're not."
Who says that?!?!

4. I took pictures of my car to put up on the internet and since have been looking at them whilst at work. I think, "Damn that's a nice car". But that is how much I love Europe, I'm willing to sell it...Maybe God will see my anguish and give me both?!?! Please Pretty Please.

5. If you're still reading this you eithr think I'm EXTREMELY neurotic or that it is really really boring to work at a law office. It's usually the former but today a bit of the latter.

Mommy and Me

We are the same person separated by 41 years. Our physical similarities are obvious; we share the same blond hair and speckle-green eyes, but it is our personalities that are most similar. My mother is an adventurer- in every since of the word. She doesn’t find her happiness in routine or stability. She loves fiercely and gives dutifully. She approaches people unafraid; as though she has never known hurt before, but when you speak with her you quickly realize she has lived a long life of ups and downs.
In truth, I can only hope we are the same person separated by a 41 years.
When I first told her I was thinking of moving to France to work after I graduated she responded, “of course”. This weekend when I timidly told her that I was thinking that I wanted to stay overseas for longer than a year she responded, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me.” She knows and understands me so well that it amazes me at times. She is smart and quick, always looking for more information to learn and expand her horizons. She understands it all but there is one point where we stand at opposite ends of a chasm- religion.
My mother is a missionary. I know; I can’t believe it at times either. She travels to India and Haiti to work with orphans. That’s right- ORPHANS.
Mother Theresa is my mother and sometimes I don’t know what to do about it. I want so badly to talk to her about my own struggles with the church. I want to tell her that I’m trying; oh I’m trying, to understand how the Sunday-school stories and the newspaper speak of the same planet. That I’m trying to understand how “God told me” is a valid answer to any question when this is the same woman that never believed in using the phrase ‘Because I told you so”. She raised me to question and to pursue everything yet when it comes to Christianity she becomes docile and submissive. I want to understand why my mother has cried over her inability to speak in tongues. Why she has been made to feel less-than because she is unmarried and, well, a little weird. I want to love her and believe her with everything but my skepticism begins to creep in and I suddenly need more than a calm pat on the hand. I need more than her clear green eyes closed in prayer, but I’m going to keep trying because I want to believe again. I want to say “God told me”, just so I can have one ounce of assurance in my life. I want to lie in peace, enveloped in a love that is strong enough to break this wild horse.
I want to be the same person separated by 41 years.



*for clarification- My mother was 41 years old when I was born. She has led a very interesting life as a war activist/ labor union president/ free-loving hippie. She is finally doing what my friends have told me to do for years- she’s having a book written about her. She has asked me to write a chapter; something that will explain my perspective on her life. I’m not ready yet but hopefully I will be soon.

Well, I Remember
conversations #2

The air was warm and thick, the way East Texas summers are. The lazy atmosphere consumed even the sun during its nightly descent, as the golden rays seemingly basked them for hours. The crickets sang a chorus that complimented the silence that sat between them. Lovers that had once found comfort in every utterance were now separated by the immense time that had left their relationship fragile. The woman that now sat beside him was a mystery; her green eyes presented an enigma as they coldly gazed over the lake.
“You came to see me the other day.” His statement felt safe in the myriad of questions that surrounded him. He could see that her heart was full of them, questions of purpose and meaning. He felt his statement was feeble and lacking, but he concentrated his gaze on her face, looking vainly for a flicker of response.
“You came to see me and I wasn’t there.” This delicate dance was going to be slow. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, watching an unknown scene.
“No.” He was struck by the quiet but strong word that had materialized between them. Her face remained unchanged but her voice had been too definitive to be a figment. “You were there.” She turned to him slowly, but her eyes remained fixed ahead as she measured her words. “You were there and you left. I reached for you and…” Her eyes darted to her hands as she gathered the strength to go on. “…and you pulled back. You left. You were always the one that was there, quietly unassuming and reassuring with your constant love. Now…I don’t know you anymore.” Her words cut him deeply as her eyes finally looked into his. The emerald of her eyes had shifted into a hard jade. Her gaze fell back to her hands and a revelation suddenly gripped her mind. “I reached for you.” Her hand shot out at the precise moment she awoke alone in her bed. Her cry was filled with confusion, hope and despair, “oh God,” but silence was her only answer.

palms pressed firmly together
thoughts intertwined
I miss these moments with you
that exist only in my mind

Damn Lucky


Here’s the problem. I’ve got to be blown away. I mean, AMAZED. Then again, I have to be adored. The two don’t seem to mix. I mean, if I am truly amazed by a guy then what is the likelihood he will feel the same way about me? Whereas, if I am not amazed by the guy but he is amazed by me we will continue to play a charade where I keep going on date after date hoping that at some point I am amazed by him all the while knowing that even if I were to get into a relationship with this person I would not be happy because I would be constantly thinking about how they just do not blow me away.
Got it?
So maybe this is why I’ve been so utterly single for the past sixteen months unless you count the blip that was Kip, but I don’t (unless he does) -which I’m sure he doesn’t. So I am back to the beginning. I’ve got a bit of a problem and my friends are tired of hearing about it. One of my friends says I’m way too picky and I need to lower my standards and give someone a fucking chance.
“For Christsakes Clare, give him a fucking chance!”
And then my other friend, well she listens quite quietly and then responds “Well Clare you see it’s not really that big of a deal. It doesn’t really matter at all. Next week someone new will ask you out and you will replace this heartbreak with a new one. Don’t you see that you never have to be upset because there’s always a replacement? Well, at least for girls like you.”
You would think I didn’t have a heart. I can steal feel…whether it be for one or twenty.
(Whoa that sounds messed up)
Then my ex says “You’re damn lucky you’re pretty. You as annoying as hell and no one would put up with that sarcasm of yours if you weren’t so damn pretty.” And I think, shit he’s right. I am severely messed up and every day and date that goes by proves the point even further. I want to think it wasn’t always this way. Once, when asked how old I was the last time I was single, I responded…”I don’t know…12”. Yeah, it happened.
But through a dramatic course of events that involved one birthday, a chocolate pie, a Myspace page, and an extremely pissed-off Clare, I decided to take a break. I hung up my dancing shoes. I didn’t go on a single date for three months. Then there was New Years, some garbage-can punch, and one serious conversation in the bathroom. Again, I was left smarting.
Well, I made that birthday call again this year but left out the chocolate pie. As I sat down the phone, I looked at my best-friend (the one with the boyfriend) and we both said “What a difference a year makes”.
The point is that, I am still single and I’m OK. I’m moving to France in two months for a year abroad until I start law school. Honestly, I’m in love with my life right now. Do I wish there was someone to share it with? Sometimes, but more often than not, I am content.
At the end of the day, I’m still friends with all my exes (minus one), my friends ask for my advice on their relationships (so I must not be too messed-up), and my guy friends do wonderful things like tell me I’m the epitome of amazingness (I heart Pat).
You know, being the single friend isn’t so bad after all.

Remember it well
Conversations #1


She breathed in a sigh of relief and listened to the wood creak in response. Old wooden benches, laid down with piety, rubbed worn from trembling hands. “Remember us?” she spoke softly to him. “Remember us in this place, when I was young and you were so wise. Remember when you held me here and made me believe? I remember it well, my skin on fire with the warmth of your embrace; I can feel it now.

“Remember us?”

The sweat of her palm left a print on the antique wood, an unseen mark to her tightly closed eyes. Her memories plagued the moments that surrounded her, causing her fear of what she might see if her eyes were to open. The air around her was thick, warming her through her thin blouse.

“I know we can be together again if we just…”

She reached her hands out to touch him but only grasped the air. Her eyes opened in a flourish of despair and she was alone again. There were no accompanying palm prints to remind her of the presence she had felt so clearly next to her. There was no sound that could fill the void that permeated the dark wooden walls. Her eyes quickly pressed tightly together again but the words were gone. Her throat choked back a cry, the air whitened by the condensation in her warm breath. She placed her palms squarely on the altar, and lifted herself up from her knees. With her eyes squarely on the cross she turned and walked slowly out of the sanctuary.

Chapter 7
This Life

“The words of the American Declaration of Independence ring: right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This is what America is about: the pursuit. Notice that the framers did not write that people had the outright right to happiness. No, that would have been far too easy. You see, America has become to be defined by this statement, this turn of phrase, which will promise you the chance to pursue all your wildest dreams, lest you achieve some, that you can began your pursuit over again. Europe is a continent defined by its history; America is defined by the lack of history. America is an idea. It was born out of an idea and has thrived upon many more. Philosophers believed the skies were higher in the United States. What was this open space used for? It was space for the mind, space for thought. When you begin to grasp the concept of the America, then you will begin to understand her and the literature that has been written about her.” Mr. Johnson’s emphasis has ended sharply on the word ‘her’. His hand poised in the air with the pointer and thumb pursed together as if to place the importance directly into our minds.
“Can you see it?” A voice from behind startles me as it whispers delicately in my ear. I turn around so quick that Christopher is forced to jerk back.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounds more accusatory than I had imagined it in my head but he had caught me off guard. I notice the strange feeling that is left in me at the surprise site of him, a mixture of anger, annoyance, and… love.
“I teach this class. Remember?” His voice is haughty but doesn’t explain why he chose to sit in the BACK of a class that he normally instructs but today has let a visiting American professor lead. “Oh, come on Maria, how long are you going to leave me in this state or purgatory?”
“What the bloody ‘ell are you on about?”
“This state of unknown, either we’re friends or we’re not. We’re together or we’re not…. I’ve missed you.” The fact that he is still behind me has prevented me from fully seeing his face on this last statement.
“Thank you class, I will be here all week helping Professor Woolsey.” All the students immediately began to pack their things and talk amongst themselves. That was one thing I always enjoyed about English classrooms, nobody started packing before the professor was finished.
“Christopher”, I say as I stand up to face him and put away my things, “I would prefer you not say those things unless you are in the position to do something about it. I have never said that we can’t be friends but it’s going to take some time for me.”
“Right, of course love, He leans in to wrap his arms around me and give me a kiss on my cheek, whispering into my ear, “I’m sorry.”
I want to melt and scream at the same time. Once, after we had broken up, Sarah saw him do this very same routine- a strong hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her response had been, “I’d still be in love with him too if he gave me hugs like that.”
I didn’t have a response at the time, and there was none for me right now. I nodded and walked quickly out of the room…

“He’s an arrogant prick and you shouldn’t be talking to him.” Sarah’s statement is punctuated by her slamming beer. Ah beer and girlfriends, it’s what makes the world go round.
‘I just…”
“No, listen to me. Maria, I’m going to be honest with you. You might not want to hear this but it is the truth. You like a lot of people and a lot of people like you. It happens. You can find someone else. You know that. I know when you met Christopher, it was amazing but he’s not the end of your life. He’s not John.”
“Thanks” I mutter and turn to gaze out the window. The campus was beginning to weigh down on me.
“Besides, what the hell was that purgatory comment about? I told you not to date someone in the English department, they are entirely too melodramatic. Remember the time he thought you were dating Stephen and he text-messaged you: I want to expose your tangled web of lies. Give me a fucking break. Maria, you know what your problem is?”
“No, please tell me.” I smile at her but she doesn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“You want excitement and depth. You want someone that is passionate yet analytical. You want this crazy mix of person that, well, just ends up being crazy. If you would settle down with a nice normal guy maybe you wouldn’t have all this drama. I mean, seriously, you should write a book about all these experiences. Are you listening to me?”
I was still gazing outside of our college pub, considering where else I could go to get away from here.
“Do you want to go to Spain?” I’m still looking at the passing college kids when I say this, asking myself and Sarah at the same time.
“What? I mean, Ok, but why?”
“I don’t really want this life”
My statement has caught us both off-guard. It was one of those moments when you speak the real truth and it scares the shit out of people. One of those moments that if you don’t change something immediately then you will know you lost your chance.
“Yeah… well right now it’s the only one you got.” We gaze at each other for a few moments to let the sentence sink in.
Slowly Sarah lifts her drink, “Finish your beer; we have a plane ticket to buy.”

"This is a day when truths will out..."

--Suicide of a Moderate Dictator, Elizabeth Bishop

This one is for the Ladies


Here something that’s been a long time coming. If it sounds like a rant, well, that’s because it is. If it sounds angry…hmm…it’s not. I’m not angry about myself. I have no one to be angry at. But I am angry for my friends and that’s who I am writing this note for: the lovely ladies.

Men, there’s a couple of things we need to get straight. First of all, men always complain about not understanding women. I concede this point. We are difficult creatures at times and many days don’t understand ourselves but let me be clear that difficult does not swing both ways. Guys are not hard to understand. Sorry guys, but your simple creatures. Now, does this make us any less frustrated with you? NO. Why? Because we do understand you. We know why you are annoying the hell out of us, we know it full well. We knew it was going to happen before it did and let me tell you- that is the most frustrating part of all.

Basically, there are three reasons why a guy does something. THREE. Nice and simple.

Selfishness- yeah I said it. You see, men, you don’t seem to have the ability to think beyond yourselves. You don’t realize that there are other people in the world, namely women, who are most likely pouring themselves out daily for you while you just walk along whistling Dixie and not giving a shit. Also, if a girl does do something for you, don’t reward her with “you’re the best girlfriend ever” and ‘you’re such a sweet girl”. We don’t like to be patronized. If you think we’re so sweet then return the favor instead of sitting back with the beer we brought you and thinking how in the world you wound up with someone as awesome as us.
Btw, yes she wants you to call. So just do it.

Stubbornness- Oh this is my personal favorite. The guy that says he never knows what you want and then when you tell them what you want they say they don’t want to be forced to do anything…. WHAT?!?!?! Here’s a clue: If a girl says she likes flowers, she WANTS flowers. If a girl says she wants to go to the movie, she WANTS to go to the movie. If a girl likes a particular chicken salad from a particular store, she WANTS you to pick up that particular chicken salad when you are there (and if she picks it up she doesn’t want you to eat it all- you know who I’m talking to). Which this last point supports my previous point about selfishness, its not that you guys are trying to be mean, you just don’t think about us.
Amendment: sometimes guys are mean but I think it usually can still be chalked up to a slow-witted, “I didn’t really think before I acted” attitude that most men have. But even if this is the case, ladies, please don’t take him back. You can fix a lot of things but you can’t fix stupid.

Two heads?!?! Here’s the old standby and maybe it is overused but I’ve met too many guys for which it is true. Just don’t. Don’t. And if you do, don’t think we can’t do the same thing. There are Samantha Jones’ out there and they do only want you for your sex. This is not most women. I have had friends ask me if it was ok for them to just want to sleep with a guy. I generally tell them yes, under the following conditions: That more is not expected (this is the part that most guys fail at, Just assume the girl wants more unless she tells you otherwise). And it’s what they truly want, if two people go into it knowing nothing is coming out then…well that’s their own business.

If there’s something I’m missing, then please comment back. But there is another point I would like to make.

Breasts

Say it

They aren’t that amazing

They sit on our chest and mostly impede the proper buttoning of our shirts.

And they are NOT….NOT…for you to stare at.

There are few things less annoying then when a girl is out on a date, looking cute for her BOYFRIEND and some dumbass waiter decides to stare at her boobs. They aren’t for you buddy and do you really not see the 6’4” guy next to us?
Don’t catch quick glances when we aren’t looking – we saw you do it anyways.
Don’t catch yourself drifting during an intense conversation- it makes you think you don’t care what we think about global politics.
And DON’T talk to them--- THEY DON’T TALK BACK.

There it is- my rant. Alas men, if all of this is to no avail and you decide to continue being a jackass just go do it somewhere where I don’t have to hear about it.


*Note: not all men are jackasses. I have some really great guy friends but I will stand by my old saying “You never know a guy until you date them”. A guy can be a perfectly wonderful creature into you place them a situation that requires forethought, commitment, and communication.

"It's a backwards attraction to your forward eyes
But you're so far-sighted that
you can't place trust in what or who you recognize. "

Working on a new chapter...

"I put millions of miles under my heels,
but still too close to you I feel."

A Song for a Heart

July 11, 2002

10 months after the terrorist attack on our country.
While I was playing on a beach in Galveston
Hours before Josh looked up at the stars and asked me to marry him.

My friend Lindsey turned a corner too fast and flipped her car. She was seventeen years old.

For the past two days, I’ve been trying to find the words to say on the 5th anniversary of her death. I still haven’t.

Lindsey and I weren’t best friends. We were running buddies in High School. Lindsey and I had both joined the Cross-Country team before it had been popular.
Before the guys had made a perfect score at District.
Before they had won second at State.
Before Cross –Country surpassed Basketball as ‘The Sport’ at our small East Texas High School.
Before all of that, Lindsey and I ran together.
She had asthma and could easily persuade me to stop for a break on our long runs down the country roads that surrounded our school. We would talk about stuff at school- classes and teachers. I also had the reputation of singing when I ran. It would keep our minds off of the long miles in front of and behind us. Lindsey would make requests and I would quickly try to remember whatever lines I could. A lot of times our conversations would drift to Christianity. Lindsey was extremely interested in the book of Revelations. She was a recent edition to the faith, so she was still perplexed by all the ‘cool Christian’ things that most young believers find incredibly interesting. Was the world really going to end? How was it all going to happen?
As I mentioned before, I wasn’t always a Christian. I wasn’t raised in the church, but as soon as I was saved, I became extremely involved. I was President of FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) in high school and everything that came with the title: I was pious yet approachable, I was Super Christian Girl.

This is the part where if my life were a movie, I would have found out how big of an impact I had on Lindsey’s life. I didn’t. I don’t know if she talked to me about these things because of who I was or if it was because she was truly interested. Either way, I was convinced that Lindsey was a member of the faith and bound for heaven one day.

But I wasn’t expecting that day.

July 13, 2002 was a blur. I had been on a family vacation with my father when Lindsey had taken the curve too fast. I arrived back to Livingston on the day of her funeral. My mother greeted me at the door, sat me down, and said that Lindsey’s funeral was in two hours. My clearest memory is of her mother. She was taking condolences, her head bent slightly as she mumbled a “thank you” to every passer-by. As I came to her, she grabbed on to my hand, lifted her eyes, and said ‘Thank you Clare, Thank you for coming. It would have meant a lot to her”.

Again, if life were a movie.

I don’t know why she chose me to say that to. I don’t know why she stopped and looked at me so intently, as if I had truly done something remarkable by coming to the funeral. Like I said, Lindsey and I were never extremely close. Sure, I had been the only white kid to go to her birthday party freshman year (Lindsey was Alabama-Coushatta) but that was more because I was excited to be invited to ANY birthday party.
I like to think it had something to do with our daily runs. Maybe, some of our conversations had changed Lindsey and she had commented to her mother. Maybe not. It scares me a little now to think about what Lindsey would think of me five years later. When I see Lindsey’s mom, I think of the responsibility my classmates and I were given that day, that we should achieve all the things that Lindsey could not. I would like to tell her that I still go on daily runs but have yet to find a better partner. I would tell her that I don’t have all the answers anymore but I am trying.

If only

“If you were with me tonight, I would sing to you just one more time. A song for a heart so big, God wouldn’t let it live”

Chapter 6
To love unconditionally

There is a world outside my window. The leaves are almost completely gone now affording me a clear view of the campus. There is a particularly beautiful building that sits across from my window, partially blocking my view of the hillside. It is the church. There are days when I catch myself watching it unconsciously, my eyes gazing over the tall spires that seem to burst from the building’s foundation. On this particular day, I am absorbed in the view of the old priest who had greeted me weeks ago. His presence had been much easier to dismiss that night. I have since seen him with many members of the church and am beginning to respect him, though I am quick to remind myself that it’s easier to create perspectives of people when we have yet to really know them. I have studied his quiet manner, his hearty handshakes and private chats. Today he is outside with a small group of college students. Church is far from a popular pastime in England and his congregation is even smaller than most. One of the students appears to be asking a question of grave importance and the Father is leaned towards him listening intently to every word, his face marked with the same concern he showed me that night.
Something is stirring within me and I can’t pinpoint its origin or meaning. My confession at the coffee shop was unexpected and has since had even wider results. I had never told anyone my entire story and the confession had freed me from the torment of guilt that had been living inside of me. I knew that another step of my forgiveness was sure to come. I had always believed that forgiveness was about oneself, that it was about regaining ownership over your own life and not letting another’s actions rule it. I had already completed this step of forgiveness. I couldn’t let the things that had happened between John, the Church, and I keep my life from moving forward.
But the second step still lingered.
I could move forward and live my own life but I was still bitter. I hated the subject of family or religion. I laughed scornfully at those who expressed a blind devotion to their supposed future and beliefs. I had been a witness to conversations with those who proclaimed a deep faith and yet couldn’t quote a single scripture. These people were the unaware targets of my attacks. I could quote scripture up and down, informing them on what their own denominations really believed. They were left helpless. I knew that I wasn’t helping anyone. These tirades only fueled my bitterness and mostly likely only fueled their blind belief.
Nothing benefits religion more than adversity.
All these thoughts didn’t answer the question as to why I was still sitting watching this church. I couldn’t get its steeple or its minister out of my mind. His words were stilling ringing and since then I had thought of asking God for guidance many times. I was nostalgic for the peace I had once found in his presence, but like the child that finds their parent’s deepest secrets: I couldn’t look him in the eye.
I could forgive everyone but I couldn’t forgive God.
I glanced to the church again but the priest was gone. When he had talked to me that night, I had wanted a great answer. I had been pondering my questions for months and his adage had seemed too quick and simple to be true.
I had coined a phrase when I was in the youth group that was used popularly within our church: There’s no gray in this Black & White. I had been professing my belief that there was no in-between when it came to God’s word. It is written in Revelations 3:16 that God will not tolerate the lukewarm. All these thoughts consumed my mind as I placed it down on my desk and admitted I didn’t know.
I didn’t know what to believe or what to think. I could walk back to the faith but that would mean a blind acceptance again; there was little room for intellectual thought within the church these days. I could forsake it all, but to believe nothing seemed a greater peril and sadness than to believe that the world was controlled by an entity I simply could not understand.
There had been something stirring within me since that night, and I now stood on a great precipice, contemplating a leap of faith.

Debate Exposes Doubt

"[If Christ] burst out from the cross, `My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation." --Life of Pi

An awesome review of an even better book-

http://www.amazon.com/Life-Pi-Yann-Martel/dp/B000KYAV7I

'If you have no doubt, you have knowledge- not faith'

Wonderfully Made


Throughout the writing of my blog, I have made it no secret of my fumbling within religion- specifically Christianity. I chose to become a Christian when I was 13 years old. I wasn’t raised in the church, unlike many of my friends. I am unsure if this has hindered or helped my beliefs, even though I know what I did was a conscious decision and I continue to stand behind it. With all of this in mind I've been thinking about something: someone made a comment on one of my earlier postings, and they wrote that I shouldn't look to others for my belief in God.
I understand this.
People break each other’s hearts everyday. The pain I have seen working in this family law office in the past two weeks has made me reconsider my choices for a family. I have seen people use children as instruments of revenge and these actions sicken me. Yet, I am reminded of something I told a friend once. My friend asked me how I was able to forgive a certain person in my life. I told my friend that I believed that there was a quality, a dignity, to people that existed and that I must respect whether they respect me or not. Forgiveness is about yourself, it’s about letting go of the other person’s control over your life. This is my way of forgiving. I believed, even before he told me, that he was sorry and didn’t know what damage his actions had caused. I had to believe that his actions were not the sum of his being and that there was a part of him that God loved and I must too. This is why I can’t be an atheist. I can’t believe there is nothing. I know that there is a soul in man that makes us higher than the animals.
This is also why I disagree with the comment on my blog.
I look to people to find God, because if we are made in his image then we are the only traces of his divinity on earth. When I am overwhelmed, I am reminded of the beautiful souls that reside in us all. People act in fear everyday because they do not understand the world they live in. When people act in fear they produce hate and evil; therefore, we must realize that we are the instruments of change in the world.
We can give love or we can give hate.
It is your choice.

Love is the truest thing we have on this earth; it is the closest to God we can be.

Josh says it's about unrequited homosexuality but I still love it anyway
For your delight- Dave Matthew's Band, #41:

Come see:
I swear by now (that) I'm playing time
I against my troubles (a battle to be won)
I'm coming slow but speeding

Do you wish a dance?
and while I'm in the front, the play on time is won
Oh, but the difficult is coming here
I will go in this way and find my own way out (away from you)
I won't tell you to be

But it's coming to much more: Me
(the end and beginning)

Come down, let the ghosts come back, reeling in you now (the ghosts of memories)
What if they came down crushing?
In the way I used to play for all of the loneliness that nobody....

Notice it now:
begging slow, I'm coming here

Only waiting

I wanted to stay
I wanted to play
I wanted to love you

I'm only this far and only tomorrow leads the way (the answer lies ahead)
I'm coming waltzing back and moving into your head

Please, I wouldn't pass this by (please) I wouldn't take any more than...

What sort of man goes by?
I will bring water
Why wont you ever be glad?
It melts into wonder

I came in praying for you

Why won't you run in the rain and play (and) let the tears (mine) splash all over you?

Chapter 5
A long way from that fool’s mistake

I suppose there are always conflicting accounts when it comes to any story of consequence. I am sure that if you were to ask John what happened he would state something about me not being satisfied in the relationship because I relied on him too much. There are always conflicting reports but there is also usually a bit of truth in each one. Here is mine:
“I met him when I was fifteen. I don’t know how to explain what it is like to meet the love of your life at that age. There was a moment of love at first sight, though I have since dismissed this notion. It wasn’t that I found him particularly handsome or breathtaking, he possessed a confidence and self-assurance there that made me thinks that he might actually be the best person that God ever created. It was like meeting the person you’ve always wanted to, before you knew who it was you were looking for. I was transfixed, a state that lasted for the next five years. Like a little girl dancing for her father, I was always interested in impressing John. I wanted to be his perfect girl. I suppose that my obsession placed a strain on him, to be the man that I believed he was but what he didn’t see was that there was no way I could ever think negatively of him. He was Jonathan, the beginning and end of my adolescent love. That is why I can’t understand November….
I paused to consider my next statement. There was a certain way that ugly truths must be said, and that is openly and deliberately.
“I can’t understand why I cheated on John, or what drove me to end the only thing on this earth I have ever known to be perfect. I suppose that five years of perfection had taken its toll and I wanted to know what it would be like to die in another’s arms.
“Something Corporate,” she comments on my use of the lyrics she had given me.
“Yes, but that’s what it was. I truly wanted something to die inside of me. I had been hurting for a long time and it was in ways that John either couldn’t or didn’t want to see. At the time, I didn’t know how to understand failure without it being full and complete. So I slept with someone else and immediately afterwards I knew that it was a mistake and I couldn’t tell Jonathan. If I told him, I knew it would kill him. I went on with my pain for the next couple of weeks, trying to think of how to overcome it without burdening him anymore with my sadness. I decided to take a pregnancy test when it had been over a month later and that is when it all began to come crashing down. John and I had begun sleeping together a couple of months earlier but I couldn’t stand the thought of a lifetime of not knowing who the father was.
I pause again to let the truth seep into the both of us.
“I…..yeah….received a….” It was so hard to say the word but I knew I had to press through this. I had never told anyone this entire story.
“I got an abortion.
I don’t know what Sarah’s eyes looked like because I couldn’t meet them.
“I went to the same clinic that John and I had put on our prayer list, the one that our church had picketed. It was a comfort in a way to think that they were now praying for me.”
“Things were becoming out of control and I wasn’t eating or sleeping anymore. I was completely overcome with my shame over my actions; I knew that I had to tell him. One night after a prayer meeting, I spilled my heart out to him, begging forgiveness and trying to find some sort of peace for my sins. He held me that night and told me that it was going to be alright. I believed him until a couple of days later when our preacher called me, he wanted to get together to talk. I didn’t know what he wanted, so I went up there. When he told me that John had told him about my abortion and that he wanted to pray for me, I lost it. I couldn’t believe that John had shared my secret, but it got worst. Soon other members of the church began to speak in hushed tones and watch me carefully. I realized that there had been a leak and others had found out what had happened. I couldn’t believe their reaction. These people who had claimed to have so much love were now turning their backs on me as though my sins were contagious. I was absolutely disgusted with the church and told John I thought so. But even though we had become strained, we were making it through. We had been in love for years, and it had never occurred to me that there was any other way to be.
“That is until he told me that he didn’t want to be with me anymore. He felt as though I had turned away from God and the church. He had been speaking with his parents and the pastor about our relationship and they had advised him to distance himself from me. I couldn’t believe their inability to forgive. I couldn’t believe that they felt as though they had a right to ask for alms from me, as though my abortion had been a direct act against them. I was lying on my floor, crying my heart out and they thought that I was nothing more than a dirty whore. He told me later that he wanted to come to me and save me but that he knew he couldn’t do anything for me. I still can’t believe it. Five years and he knows he can’t help me. That’s not what you do. You don’t just sit back because there’s nothing to do. You sit and you hold someone until things begin to get better, you don’t give up. So I walked away. I walked away from him, his family, and the church. The depth to which that belief was ripped out of me is incomprehensible and unexplainable…”
It took me a moment to realize that I had stopped talking. Sarah was watching me with a look of disbelief and amazement on her face, her mouth agape. Slowly she began to speak, “I never knew…Maria, you realize that you are amazing.”
I couldn’t hide my bewilderment. “What do you mean?”
“You went through all of that and yet you are so…normal. I’m surprised you aren’t angrier.”
“I am angry. I am furious but the energy that it takes to show those emotions…I suppose I figure that they don’t deserve it,” I stared back into my cold latte, “Desmond Tutu said that forgiveness is about getting your own life back. For a long time I couldn’t even forgive myself for what happened. I felt that if I let myself off the hook that it would mean that I didn’t have a hand in what happened. I know that John is miserable and hurt and that I did that. I set the actions into motion. I know that but I also know if I don’t let myself be forgiven then I will never receive it.”
“What about the future? Do you think you and John will ever work it out?”
“Sarah, I don’t even know how to begin to ask myself that question. The disappointment and regret weigh down on me too much at times. Some days there isn’t enough liquor to make it disappear but other days I can find solace in the simple things. Sometimes when I sit on the hillside and smoke a cigarette, I can make myself believe that I am happier now. I can forget that I once had everything.”
“How do you find the energy to date other people, like Christopher, how did you get the courage to open yourself up?”
I laugh ruefully, “well I took a chance and when it fell apart there was a certain joy to it.”
She is looking at me perplexed as to how I could find such happiness in a breakup.
“You see, for once, it wasn’t my fault. It ended because he was the screwed up one, not me, and for that- I am thankful.”
Her laugh is hearty and exactly what is needed after our serious conversation. “I take back what I said about you being normal” she retorts with another laugh.
“Why do I hang out with you again?” I playfully shake my head, “Let’s get back to the dorms before you make me spill my heart out again.”

Chapter 4
You are just another thing I’ve yet to fathom

A rush of wind met me outside the church’s heavy doors. I found the campus’ infinite emptiness fitting for my present mood. “God is not insecure…” I always wondered why people talked about God as if he were human. It seemed to me that his mightiness could be better expressed than through broad generalities on the human condition. What the preacher and every misguided soul-saver I had met as of late misunderstood was that I was not an innocent non-believer. I was not a random soul that hadn’t heard of Christ, and could therefore be saved by their simple proclamations. I had been to the bible classes, and I had sat in the seminars on theology. I knew what there was to be offered by believing the omnipotent, omnipresent creature of God. They were literally preaching to the choir and all it did was push me farther away. I know that much of this began with John and I am wondering how it will end. He had said that I believed in him like I believed in God; I suppose one heresy deserves another.

I look up to see a couple of chavs walking my way. I slowly walk to the other side of the street to avoid the ruffians, and I am suddenly aware that I am a single female walking alone at night. I take out my phone to send off a quick text when I notice I have one waiting for me. Quickly, I scan the name and message, to my surprise it’s from Christopher and he wants to know if I want to get a pizza with him tomorrow. I start to place the phone back in my pocket, not ready to decide what I want; instead, I call Sarah and agree to meet her for a coffee at the campus coffee shop. I’m in the mood for conversation of a particular nature and she is the only one I know I can have it with. I still haven’t told her the entire story of me and John’s falling apart. She has asked me for the tale repeatedly but there are still a number of particulars that I cannot quite accept myself. The chavs have passed and I am alone again with my thoughts. The quiet streets surround me like a comforting blanket. I quickly lit up a cigarette and stop to gaze at the stars. Their presence reminds me of my desire to believe in something bigger than my life. I want to believe in God, love, people, and fate. I want to believe in all the things that they tell you to believe in when you are a child. I simply do not have the energy tonight to begin my quest back home, but there’s no work in the walking, so I set my stride towards the coffee house. I spot Sarah as I walk up to the Venue, she is clutching her jacket and I am reminded that the night is freezing. I had been too engrossed in my thoughts to ponder the weather and my lack of proper attire.
“You must be freezing!” She has spotted me and my light sweater/jean combo.
“I’m a’right, let’s get some coffee and I’ll be better.”
“I suppose your date didn’t go so well…” Again, she has reminded me of the obvious.
“Oh yeah, he was…under a false impression.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you are not allowed to pawn me off on guys from the club anymore because you have a boyfriend and want to live through me. I am giving up men.”
“Are you going to become a lesbian now?” She remarks with a smirk, she already knows my response.
“You know I would love to date you except for the whole sex thing.”
“We are slaves to the men and the problem is that we will never understand them.” She states as if it had been memorized from a Dr. Phil show.
“Oh, I understand men perfectly, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them.” We laugh and know that we are both thinking of Christopher. I have always understood him, there has never been a moment when he was not completely himself and therefore completely predictable but with that knowledge came the realization that he would never change.
“He didn’t deserve you.” I glance at her to see that she has been watching me intently.
“Why do women always say that to each other?”
“Because it’s always true. Come on, I’ll buy you a soy latte and make you feel better.”
We settle down with our coffees at one of the nearby tables. I have always loved to watch the characters the campus coffee shop; the various students: mostly foreigners and occasional misguided brit.
“I was thinking about John again tonight. I can’t get it all out of my head. Sometimes I sit and wonder how it was that I was the one worth leaving.” I am staring deeply into my coffee as if it contains to the answer to my troubling thoughts.
“Maria, there’s always someone being left and another leaving. That’s the nature of life. You can’t keep beating yourself up over something that happened two years ago. I don’t know what happened exactly but it can’t be as bad as you have been making yourself feel about it.” The misguided brit coughs nearby and the humanity seems to be all too pressing tonight. I can’t help it when the words tumble out: “Sarah, it was.”

To you:

I need you to know-

I'm praying for you
I want to make it go away
I didn't mean to use the past tense in my letter
I want to drive home, wrap you in my arms, and tell you it will be ok

You are strong and amazing. You are one of the best men I've ever known. I don't know what is going to happen, but I am sure that you will handle it with a manner of grace and maturity that will surpass those around you. I believe in you.

Calm in the Waves


There was a girl that lived next to the sea. She would watch the world float by her little life, considering the occasional waves that were able to change her perception of time. She would sit, watching the passing boats. With a raised hand, she steadied the horizon that lay before her. ‘All that I look past and all that I can see can be steadied by the width of my hand’. The little girl grew up to be a woman. As a woman she no longer lived by the sea, her horizon was filled with skyscrapers and speeding cars. She would gaze out the window, steady her hand and make the city still. She wanted to believe that there could be no effect that was bigger than the cause. With small decisions and smaller steps there could never be a leap.
She loved a man once. His ways were cold and calculating. She accepted his conclusions to a fault. Her love for him was like a breeze. She felt the effects on her body, the cold caress on her cheek, but it had no beginning and no end. Her love for him had always been but it was a passing breeze. It had a way that moved through her in search of its final destination. She was not the end to his means.
‘Each day is a blessing’. And she raised her hand again. Steady and calm but there was no ocean to be seen. She closed her eyes to a river that crashed through her. The water pulled her to a final destination and he became a rock, strong and solid but simply a minor block to her ultimate end. She would gaze at him and see something that was nothing. ‘You are almost enough’.
There was a woman that moved to the sea. She would gaze at the world that no longer floated by her. She had become an actor in her own play, a master of the river inside. Through the rushing and the failing, she felt no need to steady her hand. ‘There is calm in the waves’.

Until Lately...


Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus

They flee from me that sometime did me seek,
With naked foot stalking within my chamber:
Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not once remember
That sometime they have put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking in continual change.

Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once especial--
In thin array: after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this?'

It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking:
But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness,
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness;
And she also to use new-fangleness.
But since that I unkindly so am served,
'How like you this?' — what hath she now deserved?

--Thomas Wyatt

A Man who Stands for Himself


I don’t believe in labels, people rarely adhere to them.

I spoke recently to an old friend. I told him quietly, firmly that I was no longer a Christian and that I could not identify myself with this label any longer. He seemed perplexed by my words. His head tilted to the side as he said, “You were, but now you’re not?” I knew that this would be a difficult conversation to navigate. The label of Christianity is a salve for many. The word that slides off men’s tongue is familiar and tells others that he can be trusted, that he is part of their select society. I refuse to offer comfort with this term. It might seem as though I am disgusted with Christianity, but I am not. I don’t believe in basing one’s identity on labels. Men who have told me they live by other great moral standards have still failed. They say they do not lie and then spout venom with their tongue. They say they do not break promises and then leave the ones who love them standing alone. I do not stand for these men either. I can not stand for any man who wishes to identify himself with a power greater than himself because if so chooses this path then he will surely fail. Why not be honest for the sake of yourself? Not because it is moral and right, but because you are the master of your own dignity. I wish for a man who can not only stand but testify that he stands for himself alone. He stands for the purpose that is born within him, and if he lies or breaks his promises it is because he is a flawed man- not because there is a flawed moral code.

Religion covers a multitude of sins; it acts as an insurance policy for those who are unable to stand on their own.

Call me in five years.........

60 minutes
24 hours
365 days
5 years

Time: it's all I got and everything I need.



who ever said it was women who can't make up their minds?

Darlin'

"I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips, and
they both tell me we're better than this.
'Cause that's what I'm waiting for.
that's what i'm waiting for, aren't I?
that's what I'm waiting for darlin'. "


When did waiting for better become acting for nothing?

Last year around this time, I began the 'single thing'. I purposefuly remained single to clarify my mind and figure myself out. It all sounded very Zen. I would work out more, drink less, and come to find who the real 'clare' was. My longtime friends cheered my independence; I had always been the girl with the boyfriend and they were excited to see what I might find on my own. So I began my journey, full of my own pride and thinking that, when the time came, I could end my fast on love. Many long runs and attempted Yoga positions later, I decided to accept a date and get back out there. It all started out innocently enough, with someone I had known and wanted to date for a long time. But then one thing led to another and nothing seemed to work out. My friends who had cheered me at the starting line were now considering the various effects this jaunt into self-fulfillment had cost me. They began doing what is the gravestone of every single person's life: they set me up with their boyfriend's friends. A couple of dinners and some polite conversation later, I began to wonder where this Zen journey had left me. I had completed the journey; I had figured out exactly what I wanted, now I just had to find the guy. Three strikes was brought down to one and nobody was able to measure up. Not funny enough, not serious enough, oh wait too serious, but not smart enough, and definitely not cute enough... and again and again.

fuck Zen

I think my one year sojourn has become two

"Yeah!" they'll say, "You're a free woman!" they'll rant all the while whispering..."do you think we should set her up with Paul or Thomas?"

Tick, Tack, Tickle

The name of your name tickles my tongue
I open my mouth to give and say it loud
But the letters trip and fall onto the ground
‘Kiss me, call me’ you ask so pleasantly
One, two, three, an open mouth and then
I watch the consonants fall back down again
Eye to your eyes smile at my fumble
“When they open it is like a sunrise”, I say
Happy green that brightens my everyday
Tick, tack, tickle my words but then
There is only one that wants and needs to be said
I know! I’ll call you simply ‘Love’ instead

Random Song Lyrics from my Ipod set on random.

"falling in and out of love (something sweet to throw away)
i want something good to die for to make it beautiful to live
i want a new mistake, to lose is more than to hesitate."

"It's a backwards attraction to your forward eyes"

"the freckles in our eyes are mirror images, and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned"

"All at once you look across a crowded room to see the way that light attaches to a girl"

"I don't know who kept track (I didn't know there was score),
but it looks like you're the winner and I ain't gonna play no more.
It's over, game over."

"I'm filled with guilt from things I've seen
your water's from a battle, mine's from a canteen
at night I hear the sounds of screams so I'm a light sleeper
the cause of life seems to get cheaper
out in the desert with my street sweeper
'the war is over', so says the speaker with the flight suit on
maybe to him i'm just a pawn so he can advance.
remember when I used to dance? Man, all I want to do is dance."

I'm Driving

I want a breeze, and an open mind
I want to swim in the ocean
and take my time for me--all me


So I'm finally graduating and moving away. This has been one of the best times of my life. I read somewhere that in your twenties, you're simply reacting. I felt like that for a long time. I felt like I was only reacting to the situations and people around me. I couldn't figure out why I didn't like dating, but then I realized it was because it all felt like a charade. Two people get dressed up to put their best faces forward. Small talk and cheap wine collide until you walk away-realizing there's nothing real. I'm tired of other people making the decisions. I'm tired of playing life like it's a spectator sport.
So I'm moving. Where? I don't know. What am I going to do? I haven't figured it out yet. But it's my life and it's the only one I've got.
And as far as dating......I think my next response will be- "welcome to my life; you're welcome to come along for the ride, but I'm driving"

This one goes out to the one I love....

I said my first prayer in months for you today. When you told me, I realized that you might not always be here. All our past fell away, and I was talking to the man that I had given my heart to years ago. We've been through it all, and because of that, I know I can always turn to you. I am humbled by your honesty and the power that remains between us.

God Bless You

I love you

For me, I have

Palms graze palms with silent prayers
Rusty lips reciting antiqued lines
‘Forgive me for I have...’
Sinned? Sinned. Sinned!
Have I sinned for…?
Sinned? Sinned. Sinned!
‘Forgive me for I have…’
Rusty lips reciting antiqued lines
Palms graze palms with silent prayers

A Really Good Song

I know I would apologize if I could see in your eyes
'cause when you showed me myself, you know, I became someone else
but I was caught in between all you wish for and all you need.

--In the Sun by Michael Stipe with Chris Martin

Chapter 3
What It Means


“I don’t understand all the things you’ve seen, but I’m slipping in between you and your big dreams.” The lyrics float across the room as I lay on my bed listening to the CD Sarah had left on my desk. She had written a simple note, “#9, Love you,” I had known immediately the song would contain the perfect lyrics to carry me through my winding thoughts. I needed to move but the careful piano notes held me to the bed, beckoning me to pay close attention to every syllable of the chorus.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and realized I was going to be late if I didn’t get up immediately. I had accepted a date from a guy I had met on Saturday and was now starting to wonder what exactly I had been thinking. It was clear I wasn’t completely over Christopher and had no business accepting the proposals of other men. Then again, I had put this poor guy through enough. He had repeatedly asked to take me to dinner but I had refused, citing that I had a busy schedule. Finally, I told him that if he called me on Monday, not Sunday or Tuesday, then he could have a date on Wednesday. It was bitchy, manipulative but it had worked. I was now left to stare at myself in the mirror, wondering how I was going to get ready in 30 minutes when I hadn’t even had a shower.
“It’s to dying in another’s arms and why I had to try it”
Damn it, this is why I hate dating. I knew I had to give this guy a chance, and yet every ounce of my being wanted to simply forget that I had ever met him. “Dying in another’s arms…” the words seemed so fitting. That’s what love was like, dying, laying down all your pretenses to open yourself up. But for what? Hell, if I know. “Dying…” I felt the beginning of a poem coming to my mind. My hair would have to wait; he would have to wait. I was a writer at heart and when words came to my mind there was nothing I could do but stop immediately and write them down.

I opened my eyes to a painful measure
Lid to lid and yours half-closed
Exhaling of breath and slow divide

That’s how it felt: dying in another’s arms. I remember distinctly lying with my head on his chest, my neck resting on his shoulder and looking up to meet his gaze, and it had hurt, opening my eyes that fully to only see his half-closed. I don’t know how to explain it exactly but that was the moment I knew it was over. I realized that, like my eyes, my heart was completely open and his was shut.
There. The words were laid out carefully, and the truth had been spoken. I could now get back to fixing my hair………
The first thing I had noticed about Mike was that he was, so obviously, American. Yes, there is a look that American’s have and it can be blaring. He had caught my eye and got the signal by his own interpretation that I wanted to talk to him. I really didn’t know much about the guy except that he was originally from Oklahoma and had been living in England for six years. He had called me and told me to meet him at the train station and we would go from there. As I scanned the room I immediately zoned in on his bleach blond hair and bright polo shirt, could he possibly be more obvious?
“Hey, you look beautiful,” he said customarily with just enough sincerity to make me believe his intentions weren’t completely vile.
“Thanks. So where are we going tonight?” He had deliberately not told me the venue and I was wondering if my attire was fitting.
“I was thinking we could get a curry at this great restaurant on Manchester rd.” He said this statement as if, in fact, he wasn’t thinking but had already decided. I motioned for us to go ahead, simultaneously wondering how much effort I was going to put into the conversation tonight.
As we were settled into our seats we began the custom of exploring the menu and chatting over different dishes we liked. We chatted about school and family, finally getting to the question of what he was doing in England.
“My mom and dad are missionaries. They lead a church and help grass-root bible studies. That’s why I was really attracted to you. You’re American; therefore, you can share my faith. It’s kind of hard to find Christians in England.” He said this matter-of-factly, openly as if it were the only thought that had ever occurred to him.
I hesitated, “actually I’m not a Christian.” I could see the confusion in his face. “I mean, I was raised Baptist but I haven’t figured out what exactly I believe in.” This wasn’t entirely true, I knew what I believed; I just didn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Right…” As quickly as it had begun, the date was over. We continued to chat over this and that but the date was definitely a failure in both of our minds.
As I caught the train back to town I began to ponder my own beliefs. I believed in God, or I believed in a God. More correctly, I believed that every culture contains religion. Every man I’ve met believed in a moral code. Where does all this come from? There has to be a truth that extends past man’s need to understand his surroundings. Its simple uncertainty reduction theory, we must minimize the uncertainty of our surroundings; therefore, religions (and moral codes) offer a way for man to understand that which is incomprehensible: Life. Man only has one life, we are confined by our knowledge that we acquire through our interactions with others. How are we to understand the great complexity that envelops our every action if it is impossible to step outside of it? There was one thing I needed, and I needed it now.
As I stepped inside the old wooden chapel I felt the peace surround me. This is God. In some cultures the chapel is called a sanctuary, and that is exactly what it brought me. I closed my eyes to breath in the musky air and feel the worn leather of the Bibles. I didn’t believe in the stories that it contained but I felt the undeniable need that those who had grasped its worn pages clung to. The moment reminded me of a story a friend had told me once. He was an atheist and was walking home from the pub one night. He stumbled upon an old church and somehow found his way into the courtyard. As he found a place to lay his head, he looked up at the stars and began to wonder if there was a God. He pondered the vast expanse of the sky and then realized: He was drunk. The story had made me laugh at the time but now I simply understood him. As I looked around at the worn chairs I knew this wasn’t the place I would find my peace. There was a bit of it here but years of corruption had eaten away at any foundation God once had in the Church.
“Can I help you?” I looked up suddenly to see an old priest standing in the doorway of the chapel.
“Excuse me father, I was trying to find something but…I’m leaving now,” I had wanted to tell him more but years of Sunday school had trained me to stay away from those of authority in the church. But still…I needed to ask him.
“How is it that we are so innately, intrinsically human yet utterly incomplete at the same time?” The question had been plaguing me since the bus station.
“Well…I think that’s what it means to be human,” His voice held authority but his manner understood my need.
“Thank you father,” I walked toward him, handing him the old Bible I had been unconsciously clutching since I walked in.
“Child, God is not insecure. Ask him your questions and you will be answered.” His advice seemed shallow compared to the knowledge that stood behind his eyes. I looked at him closely wondering if he held all the answers to the questions I hadn’t yet discovered. I turned and walked briskly out the door. I had asked God a question once and he never answered. Damn it, if I was going to be a fool again.

This is what happens when I read E. E. Cummings


I loved you first (first I loved you),
did you (see) know it?

Neck (connects) to --------> shoulder
And

“”(wide) open (wide)””

eyes
flinching of wrist/tsirw
glances aside
I kissed you with my

w (each) o (and) r (every) d (syllable) s

to show it
breast to rib (like eve from adam)

F l n g hearts
u t r i
t e

s l i d i n g

of fingers (our intertwined)
wants
[wantingfingers]
collide

So there's been some question as to whether my blog is biographical or not. My commentary, short stories, and poems all have roots in my life experiences. I am constantly inspired by those around me to write about people and the lives they lead. If you feel that you have been misrepresented on my blog, then I am sorry. My characters are a mixture of the people that have come in and out of my life. I have also changed many details to simplify and clarify the message I am trying to convey. My blog is just a place for me to write, so take it simply as that.

Chapter 2
I Loved You First

There’s a certain beauty to being young- when regrets are only lessons and dreams are thoughts of tomorrow. This thought comes to me again as I sit on the English hillside: I am young, and I am free. I have become defined, but the memory still persists. I am dancing on the beach in my summer dress and he is there. “You are everything to me,” I had said it, but had I meant it?
“Maria, you shouldn’t be so anti-social all the time,” I look up to see Peter’s grinning face looking down at me.
“Sorry Peter, I was just…thinking,” I am unsure about sharing my anxiety. He had caught me in a fragile moment but the sudden interruption had caused my thoughts to shift so violently, I was unsure if I could get them back.
‘Oh yes, Maria, the girl with the great sadness,” his words were playful but striking. “I’ll leave you alone to your thoughts…if I can get a cigarette first.”
As I watch him walk back to the dorm rooms, I think of his words. Was I really the girl with the great sadness? Had I let this particular sadness live too long within me? These thoughts continue to dance on my mind as I watch the other students on the hillside. It is a rare, crisp autumn day. People had warned me that it rained everyday in England. This was, in fact, not entirely true; everyday it drizzles. The skies were clear for once and everyone was taking an advantage by playing various sports. I spotted Christopher playing football at the end of the slope with some of his students, and the familiar pang hit me again. When we had met, I had been bowled over by his intelligence and drive. He had big dreams and as we talked politics over pints, I felt like they could be my dreams also. That was six months ago and now he was nothing more than a stranger to me. This sense of rejection was particularly sharp because I still hadn’t figured out why we had fallen apart in the first place. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with a professor but he had treated me as a colleague and confidant. I thought we had a connection that would transcend the differences others had pointed out so blatantly. I had been the one to drop the final shoe..
"You are going to miss my love," he had said openly, smugly.
"I never had it anyway," I felt empowered by the realization that I was losing something I had never owned in the first place. It was over now and as sure as I knew it, I knew I would be moving on soon. I had always been a traveler, and though I had always considered myself to be one who was traveling toward something, I felt this time I might be traveling away from someone.
“Fuck!” In my search for answers I had forgotten all about my cigarette until it burned my hand as a reminder of reality. “Fuck,” I said softly, this time for reasons other than my hand. I had promised myself when I drove away from John’s house that I would show love with no remorse, it was proving harder than I had imagined. “Afraid of being alone,” that is what Sara had said. She was afraid because, to her, it meant being unwanted. To me, the goal of a relationship is to find a partner, and the truth was I only worked alone.
I glanced at my pack of cigarettes, considering lighting up another. Right now, cancer seemed a much better alternative to the thoughts in my head but I decided against it.

My ledger, My gravestone

I loved you first, but did you know it?
Neck to shoulder and open eyes
Flinching of wrist and glances aside
I kissed you with my words to show it
Breast to rib and fluttering hearts
Sliding of fingers and wants collide
I opened my eyes to a painful measure
Lid to lid and yours half-closed
Exhaling of breath and slow divide
I closed my mind to mark my ledger
Palm to cheek for your relief
Neck to shoulder and I abide

You Began Me

I was given a light, and told to follow
Think beyond knowledge, accept despite servitude
You made me
I was given a light, and clarity to see
Dream without dreams, reach above difficulty
You began me
I was given a word, and it was quiet
Speak with silence, give before receive
You told me
I was given a word, and nothing else
Light upon lie, embrace until breaking
You ended me

Chapter 1
Leaves Leaving Me

November 2006

The autumn leaves are leaving me. I watch as they drop outside of my window, their slow descent reminding me of my last fall. “That’s my biggest fear”, she says out of the blue. I hear her words echo off my dorm-room walls but I can’t comprehend. I force my eyes away from the falling beauty and turn to her. “
Never finding love…that’s my biggest fear”, she repeats to me slowly. My mind is still wrapped around the maple tree, yet I’m starting to register her words. “Why?” I am confused about the origin and the intent behind her comment.
“Why would that be your biggest fear?”
“It’s not yours? You have never thought about it, about being alone for the rest of your life?” Her eyes are searching my calm expression for a hint of her desperation. “No…I mean, I’ve never really thought about it I suppose.”
I know she is disappointed in my answer but I don’t know what else to say, so I turn back to the leaves. Sarah doesn’t understand where my real fear lies. I am not afraid of living without love, I am afraid of a love I can’t live without. I glance back at my friend to see that she’s perusing a bridal magazine; this must be the source of her angst. All the smiling brides make me want to lose my lunch.
“I am going for a walk.”
I grab my coat and walk quickly out the door before she can respond. There’s always been something special about autumn to me; the brisk wind hits my cheeks, reminding me that winter is near. It was fitting to choose autumn as the perfect time to change my life. The winter had come soon after, and though it had been the hardest I had ever known, the rebirth was worth the death. I reached into my pocket to pull out my pack of ciggies. I had taken up a number of sins to cover the one I couldn’t forget.
My feet beat out the sounds of my thoughts as I walk briskly to the forest, remembering that lonely spring evening I had stood outside of John’s house. I remember the rain and the feel of the cold, paisley fabric as it clung to my shivering body. He had told me that night, “I couldn’t complete you.” I was shocked; scared at the implications of his words but now I realize how true they were. I had been a lost girl when I fell in love, and a woman searching for her independence when I jumped out. There’s a stain on November 17th that will never go away, and the way it all began…
I was sitting in traffic, waiting for the turn light on University Blvd. I was sitting patiently behind this woman in a Volkswagen when I quickly noticed her montage of bumper stickers and absentmindedly began reading them. “I love someone with Autism.” “American’s united for the fight against Autism.”…the signs read on and on. My eyes drifted back to the front of the vehicle and the woman behind the steering wheel, and then it struck me: this woman has a purpose. This woman is defined. Her pain was her power and I felt like a weak child staring in awe. My life had been a serious of incompletes, without purpose or drive. I knew then that I need a break, and who it would have to be from.

The Indisputable Truth
Prologue- March 2005

“What was love supposed to be like?” She yells out to me through the rain. Her dress is soaked through and I immediately know she has been standing out here for hours. I stare at the shivering face of my fallen angel Maria. I haven’t seen her since the fall. The red and golden leaves drifted down to her as she descended with each lie. Maria, the girl that gave her heart to me at fifteen and took it back at twenty. I had the sudden urge to give her warmth. I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to come in but my words were lost.
“What was love supposed to be like?” Her face pleaded with me for an answer.
“What were you waiting for?”
“Did you expect us to be perfect?”
“Were you waiting for me to be perfect?” Her questions are coming too fast and my mind can’t comprehend their meaning. Maria, oh Maria, you tasted like summer and always stopped to dance in the rain. I thought having her in my life made everyday mean something. I wish I could hold her again but then I remember…
“I couldn’t complete you”, the words tumble out of my mouth before I realize their consequence. Her face looks stung, her green eyes opened wide at the realization of my words. “I couldn’t complete you,” I continue because I have to tell her everything now, “You were beautiful, enchanting. You gave yourself to me in ways I never knew I needed but I couldn’t be enough for you. I wanted to fix you, I wanted my love to be enough but it never was…
“When you talked about us, you spoke of our love like it was an indisputable truth. You believed in me as much as you believed in God. I wasn’t waiting for us to be perfect, and I didn’t need you to be perfect. All I wanted was for you to stop thinking I was perfect. I was your savior and you…you were my downfall…
”Her hollowed frame turns from me slowly and I know I have broken her spirit once again. I watch as she walks back to her car, and slowly her taillights fade into the night. I turn to go inside my apartment, still in shock from the night’s events. I know I won’t sleep tonight but I suddenly feel exhausted. I sit down in my room to write this all down but the words won’t come. I find my drawing pens to express myself in my notebook but I can’t see the lines. I get up to fix myself some dinner but nothing seems to satisfy this hole that is left in the pit of my stomach.
Almost two years have past and I still can’t shake her from my memory. I am angry that she had the audacity to show herself here, but I’m also heartbroken over her determination. Where was it when we needed it the most? I stare at my empty house and know that I am a broken man. I feel as though something stopped that November and no matter how hard I try, I can’t move forward. I wake up every morning to relieve November 18th, the day after she told me what she had done. I wake up in between a memory and a dream of her dancing on the sea shore, her red dress floating in the wind, carrying my worries along with it. I remember her laughing and her green eyes sparkling as she said to me, “you are everything to me”. Her love for me was like an indisputable truth and I was only starting to believe.

I would never again....the ending

She slept soundly next to me and I knew that her sleep was far easier than the questions that would occur upon her waking. I stared blankly out the window, watching the passing hills that had come to define my broken heart. I was leaving again and I wanted to scream. I wanted to say..
Fuck Leaving
Fuck Goodbyes
Anger is easier than sadness. She moved next to me, shifting to an unknown dream. I couldn't begin to explain what her presence meant to me. It had been a last minute revelation, that she would be travelling with me to the airport. I had been moved beyond words, never knowing this intimacy before. I had known love before with my family, strangers thrown together and commanded to love another. I had had lovers before, strangers who sleep together and therefore are commanded to love one another. This love was different. There was no give and take, just a state of being. A presence that did not require words. With no requests, all I could do was give.
Fuck Leaving
The train came to a slow stop and I softly bumped her shoulder. She awoke and I motioned with my eyes that it was time to go. It was I who led the way to the airport, having been through this station too many times. I had resolved to remain strong, the silence of our friendship helped. After we had found my flight and checked in my bags we went to eat breakfast. She had chosen a Burger King breakfast meal while I had bought a muffin and an extra water for her. She smiled gratefully and we settled back into our silence. It was these exchanges that others didn't understand. We would exchange small favors for each other without a word about paybacks or who had spent more on whom. I knew we both wanted to say something meaningful, but instead we discussed each others' schedules for the next week. I had wanted so much more for this moment, to have said or felt something that could be remembered forever. Instead I was left gazing at the airplanes coming in. Slowly, we began to watch the people around us, lives intermingling through a mixture of hellos and goodbyes.
Fuck Goodbyes
I knew it was getting late but we lingered longer at the table. I suppose we both believed that if we never moved towards the security gate I would never leave and this amazing experience would last forever. I was facing leaving a country where I had made my home for the past 9 months and yet...I could only sit there. Slowly we stood up and made our way to the gate. As we were walking, her eyes began to fill with tears. I was jealous over her ability to express all the emotions that were left alone in me. She reached into her bag and handed me a letter. I protested at first, embarassed that I had not thought of a similar token but she insisted that it was nothing. I took her gift and walked away. Once inside the safety of the airport lounge I opened her letter. She had copied down lyrics to our favorite songs and wrote about a friendship that would last forever.
I cried.
As my tears fell over my smile I knew; these were not the ones I had been waiting for. All the sadness I had been trying to express was lost in my overwhelming pride for our friendship. I looked up at the people around me, unconcerned about whether they had seen my reaction to her words. I wanted them to see that I had been given something that most people would never know, a true friendship. I wanted them to know that I would never again have to say goodbye.

Other people's shit


"Don't Take Anything Personally. There is an awful lot of negative energy out there and some of it is directed at us by other people. If you take it personally and take on the poison of another's words, it becomes a very negative agreement you have with yourself. What anybody thinks about you, or says about you, is really about them. Not taking it personally allows you to be in relationship with anyone and not get trapped in their stuff."

yesterday I had someone send me something that was intended to be very hurtful to me. At the time, I did get angry but after I had had some time to reflect on the issue I realized that the situation wasn't about me. I have not done anything wrong here and if they choose to lash out because of their insecurities...then that's their own issue. I don't have to take on other people's problems because that's not my responsibility. I believe in the dignity of people. I don't believe in religion but I believe in a God because there is dignity to people. Some of us have lost our dignity. When we let fear and anger control our lives we lose our dignity. I respect myself and others, and that is where my dignity comes from...

Respect yourself and then maybe you'll learn to respect others.

A More Perfect Fall


"But I could not recall a more perfect fall,
'cause when I looked up into your eyes it didn't hurt at all."

Today is a good day.

Find yourself a girl and settle down
live a simple life in a quiet town
steady as she goes, steady as she goes.
your friend have shown a kink in the single life
you've had too much to think now you need a wife
steady as she goes, steady as she goes
well here we go again, you've found yourself a friend that knows you well
but no matter what you do you always feel as though you've tripped and fell
so steady as she goes....

My friends tell me I'm the maneater and I'm starting to believe them. I've been on so many first dates the past couple of months I don't know what to do with myself. I always seem to get bored with guys and can't commit to anyone. So here I am, waiting for another date tonight and I am wondering if I am finally going to be interested.

'the only thing keeping me dry is where I am
seems so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that "i'm just visiting"
I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving
why I was the one worth leaving.'

I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving.
I am finally seeing, why I was, the one worth leaving.
I am finally; seeing why I was the one worth leaving.
I am. Finally seeing why; I was the one, worth leaving.
Finally I am seeing. I was the one worth leaving, why?
Seeing finally I am. Leaving one, I was worth the why.
Why I was worth the one leaving; I finally am seeing.
Why was I worth leaving? Finally the one I am seeing.
I am finally leaving. Worth the one I was seeing.
Leaving, am I? Finally seeing why I was worth the one.
I. Am. Finally. Seeing. Why? I. Was. The. One. Worth. Leaving.