A Distorted View of Love
I look at you
and I think that you are the embodiment of love.
Not all that love is,
but all that love could be.
Me and you,
we could take the world by storm.
Be the friends cheesy candy apple books are made of
and friendship bracelets made for.
We could love those around us way too deeply,
come out full of scars,
but unphased, nonetheless.
But you aren't the embodiment of love.
I am not.
Together we cannot be,
but we can try.
Actually, we're going to be fantastic, eventually. Until eventually, we'll at least not be alone.
I am prepared to meet today, but I wish I could have slept just a little bit longer.
It'd be about love and it'll have all been said before. But not by me, and that is where its beauty would lie. Not in its organisation or concrete nature, but in its identity as my essay.
The future is here. I can feel it; I can see it. It's terrifying and beautiful, but most of all it's here.
After playing the waiting game for what felt like too long, the future has finally arrived.
I have finally arrived.
I'm not yet who I'm meant to be, but I'm who I'm meant to be in this moment.
I'm finally the me who is ready to meet the future.
You know me, but I don't know you, so please be patient.
Thanks in advance.
- Me, 29/09/17
She took a deep breath and blinked twice to keep salty droplets of water from falling out of her mud brown eyes. She blinked because she was sad.
I tell you she was sad because not too long ago she was blinking to keep out the dust that found itself in the wind when she was speed-walking toward her dream. She later chose to blink to confirm that a distant blurry figure was her dream as close as it's ever been. She made the mistake of blinking and missed the instant the figure quietly vanished and made its way a few feet beneath the earth.
She blinked, took a stone, along with the little bit of lightning left inside of her and inscribed,
"MAY THE DREAM THAT I LOVED BUT FORGOT TO TRUST, THE DREAM UNREALISED, FIND A HOME THAT BELIEVES IN THE REALITY IT HOLDS."
She knelt to the ground and began to dig her small hands into the mud, all the while blinking to keep little brown specks from getting into her eye and salty droplets from getting out.
When she finished she laid the stone in the ground among a field of stones that were all different, but all the same.
Don't make mistakes, make choices. Don't wander through life hoping you'll end up somewhere wonderful, make choices. Make choices and if you realise later you could've done better, accept it, do better, and appreciate that the choice you made was yours. Let yourself be free to make choices, not mistakes.
"I like to wait till I have everything figured out."
"By then it'll be too late."
Sometimes life and the relationships in it aren't about saying something profound to another person, but saying something at all.
I dream up starry night skies, but too often all I ever create are acid-washed navy blue backgrounds.
Relationships are sacred like words are sacred. When we fail to define either as anything less than magical, we lose the opportunity to exist in the presence of two of the greatest abstracts known to any of us. We also, then, lose the opportunity to create anything concrete from either. Relationships are sacred like words are sacred; don't lose sight of that for anything.
During every fixed point in time, we simultaneously live in a world of innumerable possibilities and a world of only one possibility--existing in this exact moment.
What do you do with a heart that bleeds? I don't know. I do know that words help; they don't always fix things, rather "carry the pain."* No matter they do. They do something. Thus, Project Heartbleed: the posting of (at least) one phrase a day. These phrases used to wait for fully formed blog posts to meet the world, but now, they'll meet you where they are and you'll get to see, as I do, how they grow into more than a few words.
Carmel: a fellow beating heart.
"1000 Times" - Sara Bareilles
Welcome all beating hearts to Project Heartbleed--the place where all my writing begins.